Category Archives: Journal

Missives on Friendship, #1

I have a friend
Whose wisdom steeps like coffee
Always fragrant with friendship
Bringing good taste out of darkness

In a world driven by friending, unfriending, virtual words, and internet socialization, sometimes I think about the circles of my life—my family, my workplace, my acquaintances, my friends. How do you know if someone is a friend when you have never met them face to face? How does friendship form between two people whose threads have never crossed?

Some time ago, though dates aren't really my thing, I fell in love with the writings of LithiumAddict on my favorite fandom website. And you know what? Fandom gave me so much, but there is only one reason I truly don't regret it: because it gave me people I truly consider friends. One day, for one reason or another, I followed enough links and little breadcrumbs across the internet from that fanfiction profile to an online journal where I found out that this favorite author of mine was also lithiumlaughter, Percy O'Leary, the storygirl. If anyone ever deserved the name, she did.

I had never really thought about what it meant to put yourself out there online because at the time, I didn't. There was this little rosebud sitting in my heart I refused to allow to blossom, and I had reasons. I will not go into how terrible this world can be to those who are different and refuse to change, who dig in their heels and stand their ground, sure on the footing of familial attachment and obstinately stick up their chin in nonconformity while still preferring to skate beneath the surface of notice. I will not go into what my world looked like at the time, but let me say that that was me. If stubbornness is a strong will and obstinacy is a strong won't, then I am that won't. So I stayed tucked away inside myself and it was safe and comfortable and if people didn't like my fiction, then they were welcome to simply not read it.

And then there was Percy. She didn't just write fiction: she wrote her challenges and struggles; she wrote about the Man upstairs with such an honest, raw conviction of His tender care even in the strange turmoil a life could be; and she did so unapologetically and without offering offense. It made me willing to open my own self up a little bit, and a little bit more, willing to put my heart into words and take a look inside my skin in something more than the vaguest of terms. Oh, I had done enough of that inside my head and my safe circle of family, but to reach out my hand to another with the very real possibility that they would slap me back—I had never done it. I had not the courage.

Perhaps courage in writing isn't having the thick skin, but simply shrugging off the blood from our wounds because we have more words to say, more songs to sing, more love to offer. I can say honestly that lithiumlaughter taught me that.

In discovering that journal of a storygirl, I found a friend. I cheered her on and prayed for her and always received a welcome to my prayers. We started talking—this and that, writing, fandom, tea and poetry, the way we like to get under a character's skin and think about what makes them tick. When I was down, she cheered me up, she prayed for me and supported me when I needed encouragement and strength.

And let us say, that is what friendship is to me. Friendship is unconditional. You don't wait until someone is doing well to be there for them. Friendship is encouragement, support, lending our strength to share in the load. Friendship is laughter together in the good times, exchanging ideas and understandings and all the things that make us better people in the long run. Friendship is honesty and openness. Friendship is knowing when you cast that line out to another person, they will catch it. Friendship is agreeing to disagree. Friendship is sharing some of the same foundation or building it together.

Perhaps you could argue in this world of friending and unfriending that friendship has been cheapened. Not mine.

I have a friend
Whose hand is always open
Always free with her encouragement
Always stronger than she believes

Happy belated birthday, m'dear.

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To Be Read: Running Behind on Web Serials

This entry is part 3 of 6 in the series Am Reading

Quartz by Rabia Gale

In order to save their world, the mages of long ago plunged it into eternal night.

Now rare veins of quartz provide light, heat, and food to a dying world. And Rafael Grenfeld has just learned that the biggest quartz pillar of them all, the legendary Tower of Light, exists. Unfortunately, his informer died before revealing its location and he’s stuck in the hostile totalitarian state of Blackstone.

Desperate to find the Tower of Light for his people, Rafe forms an uneasy alliance with the mysterious and maddening Isabella. They’re not the only ones interested in the quartz. The Shadow, chief of the Blackstone secret police, is also hunting for it. As darkness-loving demons devour souls and dangerous magical artifacts resurface, Rafe must tap into the lost powers of the mages in order to find and secure the quartz—before his world is destroyed by famine and war.

Fire and Water by Allowyn Nyrti

For years, Enya Royston has hidden from herself and her abilities, fearing the destruction that always comes with using them. The others embraced their talents, but she turned away from them. Now, though, everything has changed, and their paths have twisted up together again, forcing them to reevaluate the choices they made and how they will go forward from here. The past stands ready to destroy them, and if it doesn’t get them, their enemies will.

So I'm behind on my reading. No surprise there. I've got a proofreading job, a few musical birthday/mother's day gifts to complete, and a job—besides the 365 Challenge and a remix exchange fanfic to write. En brief, the scribbler's busy.

What are you reading?

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Seriously, now I must write about the dragon rodeo

This is the common or melting-pot American, in the particularly masculine form that Ms. Le Guin has singled out for castigation: and if he is afraid of dragons at all, he is probably afraid that they may be a shade too dull for him. Old-world etiquette requires him to be a St. George and kill them, but he would really rather climb on their backs, rodeo style, and see if he can stay on for the whole eight seconds. He used to be wonderfully served by what we may call his official culture, the Arts and Literature and Other Good Things with Capital Letters. Cooper, Irving, Poe, Melville, Twain, O. Henry — the earlier part of American literary history is a glorious constellation of tall-tale tellers who didn’t care a rap whether they were being ‘realistic’ or not.

"Why are dragons afraid of Americans?"
by Tom Simon

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Am Reading: "Firebug"

This entry is part 1 of 6 in the series Am Reading

The dance will be great, your mother tells Margaret, shunting her tomato to the side. You wish, not for the first time, that you’d developed any other neural disorder than the one you have—telekinesis so you could move a piece of chicken to her plate, or telepathy so you could plant the suggestion that she eat more.

What about you, Jessica? your father says, mildly. Everyone speaks mildly to you, except Margaret. Better safe than roasted.

"Firebug" by Katie Cortese
Carve Magazine, Winter 2012

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So about January...

I did more work on the website and more writing than I could have expected. I can't rightly call it just blog anymore. The menu holds just a handful of links, but they are portals into a newly vast area of the site: Bibliography, Fandom (the baby of the bunch), and Challenges.

So on those challenges. The only one I'm pretty on target with is the 365 Challenge, but I'm getting back on the pony with reading and also with the 100 Things challenge, where I write 100 blog  posts about creativity. I also intend to start slowly moving my fanworks over here and to add a Heinlein Challenge page. I started and failed the Heinlein Challenge last year, but I'd like to get at least 52 items out on submission this year. It is time to grow the scribbler's income and writing, publishing, submitting is the only sure way to do that.

In January 2013, I wrote and published 1 review for the 52 Read Challenge.

In January 2013, I wrote and posted 11 stories, 2 fanfics, 1 metafic, and 6 poems for a total of 25/365 items by the 365 Challenge count. Total word count: 8312. Total line count: 203.

This does not include any WIP or non-challenge works.

How was your January?

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Challenging Myself: 2013

2013 is an exercise in forcing myself to stretch my wings and grow, particularly in the area of discipline. I've been almost startled at how intensely my writing and even blogging world now revolves around the challenges I have given myself.

Finishing Things

The 365 Challenge is essentially a demand to finish things. Not just any thing, but things people want to read. The parameters are hardly binding or limiting, but I do get prompts in the form of questions that make me stop, pause, and ask myself: Do I want to answer this question? How do I want to answer this question? There are dark moments in my characters' lives that I'm not much inclined to get into, but I know them, like my own dark moments, even better. They are worn from internal repetition.

It's also making me stretch because I want each piece to mostly stand alone. There are exceptions. The drabbles for 100 Word Stories need to stand alone, but not as stringently. You can't give a broad sweep of a moment. It has to be very tight, narrowed, and focused.

Reading Inspiration

It was lithiumlaughter that suggested I do more reading this year, and I took her word for it. I've got several unpublished books on my plate from writerly friends and several more from BookRooster, which I'll need to review once I've finally done reading them. Which is also how I got started back into poetry. I yanked out all my writing magazines the other week and started flipping through them, to remind myself of the things I once knew and simply immerse myself back into that authoritative vibe.

I discovered Billy Collins poem, "Adage," and one of my favorites ever, "Anyways" by Suzanne Cleary, and so many others, and then lithiumlaughter introduced me to "Litany in Which Certain Things are Crossed Out," with which I'm in love.

...leaping out of the frying pan of yourself / into the fire of someone else

— "Adage" by Billy Collins

Reading the rhythm of language and the way intense things are presented inside of these poems has inspired me, and I found myself writing a good bit of poetry, stuff I never would have attempted otherwise, with experiments deemed somewhat less than perfectly successful, such as "The Un-Study" and pieces I absolutely love, as "Litterae" and "Normal written in coffee grounds."

Reading G. Jackson's novel-in-progress made me itch to try fiction written in a completely different style from my norm. I've hesitated to jump into this particularly frying pan, but I cannot deny the itch is present and well-accounted for.

On Creativity

Having the 365 Challenge page with its measured progress made me put together a page for the 100 Things Challenge, a blogging challenge I haven't finished yet, have barely even well begun. It made me want to get back up on that pony and start writing for it again. It's not so much about just finishing things as really growing myself by considering creativity, what it means to me, how I practice it.

So that's my 2013. Besides the other standard goals of get a day job, eat better, etc. Thanks all of you for how you inspired and continue to inspire me.

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I bought a ton a flowers...

Memed from likeadeuce:

  • Comment with "I got drunk and bought a ton of flowers"
  • I'll respond by asking you five questions so I can get to know you better.
  • Update your journal with the answers to the questions.
  • Include this explanation in the post and offer to ask other people questions. (If you want. Totally optional.)
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