Can You Love What Drives You Crazy?

I'm certain we've all been here at some point.

The easy answer to this question is yes, yes you can. All those little flaws that make you want to deck your brother or sister, slap your lover, or tear the page out of a good book may seem like pure hatred, but the truth is it comes as part of the mental package. The flaws that drive you crazy do so for a reason, and often those reasons are nearest and dearest to your heart. I know there are things that I do which I will never understand. Procrastination for one. They make me want to tear my own hair out almost as much as watching people destroy themselves or each other out of selfish wants and needs. The world is a messy place and it's more than just bodily problems. We make "drama," add to our emotional problems, and do down right crazy things for those we know and ourselves.

Let's face it, no one is a saint. We try, we really do, but at the end of the day we are only human.

Some of the best stories I've read involved characters who felt just in what they were doing, and I almost loved them as much as I hated them. They were ruining or thwarting my favorite character's efforts in a way that seemed downright dastardly. Thing is, stuff like this happens in our every day lives all the time. Some girl stole your best friend's boyfriend and mercilessly flaunted the fact to her face. Your grandparent got robbed by some kid who was just trying to make it into a gang. Your school rival got the job you had been trying to get for the past five years and it was only because he or she was flirting with the boss to get it. Crazy crap happens and it's all around you. The key is writing about some of that stuff when you are angry or peeved. Capturing the thoughts of that moment are so revealing about what is happening to a person in a rage. Then, after some time trying to see what you have written in another light. I, for one, had a moment like that tonight.

There's nothing like experiencing a bit of my own stupidity. Even now I'm shaking my head wondering how in the heck I managed to miss that tomorrow was New Year's Eve. Time flew right past my brain and made me think it was next week, not tomorrow. Somehow, I managed to believe that December deserved another week of existence for 2012. There was so much I was going to get done in that extra week too! I wanted a certain project for Musa done by tomorrow and was supposed to be working on my notes for my 50,000 words in January. That has all been reduced to one day's work and as luck would have it the road will have a couple hours of my attention (again.) I'm seething and have no one to blame for myself. Sometime in the future, I'm certain I'll look back at this and laugh. Who knows I may even be glad I was late because of some of the inspiration I got from the film adaption of Les Miserables tonight!

I'm definitely hitting a learning curve. Now, I have some work to do! Happy Writings to all of you and may it be an outlet for all those moments in your life you feel the steam pouring out of your ears.

Rekindling

Sometimes when you sit alone in a quiet house you hear the little creeks in the wood and think maybe it's whispering to you. The television, books, radio, and computer may help you to forget you're alone, but when you look away from your choice of distraction you realize that you are. That there is no one there.

I've found in the past that I'm more productive when I'm alone. However, that has often been after a day full of seeing nothing but people. The constant feeling that I must rush to finish what needs to be done haunts me as I fill my day with friends and family. When I am truly alone and left to my own devices I find I am more selfish. Procrastination becomes a partner. Today I was alone and sadly I made no progress towards my future.

I watched several episodes of American Horror Story on Netflix and cuddled into my warm red blanket. I read chapters from A Clash of Kings by George R.R. Martin. I neglected to finish what little work I had left as I gave myself over to the little comforts of entertainment.

Tonight (technically this morning) I'll finish my work. It took all my strength just to start up again. No one is here to remind me that time is passing and so I take it at my own pace, occasionally looking back and realizing time was following me all along. However, I feed into my own farce, turn around and continue to waste the time I should have used on other projects instead of my own amusement.

I did check out the SFWA or Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America. Becoming a member is something I should try to do. If nothing else trying to attain membership will help me improve my writing. They also have a nice site to help writers navigate their way through the publishing system. Their blog Writer Beware is another source that is nice for writers new to the industry like myself.

These little finds aside, I am in need of a rebirth of sorts. I need to burn out my old bad habits and become the person I want to be. The focused editor, writer, and reader whose voice can help those around me, whose mind can help herself. I want to burn some of the tiredness out of my veins. I was almost successful a couple weeks ago. I need exercise. I need to wake up early. I need to eat vegetables. I need to breathe healthful habits into my life. I need to rekindle the ambition in my heart and find within me the girl who took on the world and didn't dread the sun's call to morning. I need to forge a path for myself.

To start I need to get back to work both in the house and for Musa. This day of distraction is wreaking havoc on my mind and I'm so close to the finish line for my project. This little post has been my match now I'll have to monitor myself before the flame of achievement goes out.

Can There Be Joy In Editing?

I often feel like beating my head against a table unceremoniously. The reason? Simple, finding an error in a piece I've already published. It makes my ears turn red just thinking about it.

The ironic thing is that when I was at school it never really bothered me. If I had a few red marks on my college paper I didn't feel like an idiot so much as I felt like I had been robbed of time before I turned in the assignment. Procrastination was a friend that I kept at bay mostly by being constantly busy. However, in my super senior year (that's year five for those of those who are curious) I contracted the infamous, Senioritis. Everything I did was last minute and I had little guilt. I just lost the will to care at that point. Mainly because no one ever marked me down enough on grammar to make me care. So I didn't.

Now, when writing for the public eye, I often wonder if my grammar is correct. I fret over comma placement like I haven't fretted since my elementary grammar tests. I constantly reference books on what I should be doing in regards to punctuation, and am constantly checking my use of affect and effect, usually twice before my work gets sent out. It's nerve wracking and I often find myself feeling like a degenerate when my German mother finds errors before I do.

Before I tear myself down any further I will add, that these last couple of months at Penumbra have started to re-instill the basic grammar I've been neglecting throughout my education. I can, and often do, find my own errors and do not need to have them pointed out to me. Typically. No one has the perfect first draft, it is usually filled with errors. I just find it ironic that I'm working for a magazine and don't know all the basics by heart. It's another one of those, "How did I get away with this?" questions.

To be honest in all of writing, editing is my least favorite task. You can edit as you go, but  it almost never ends up catching all of the errors. It's the method I usually did at school because it was quick and PAINLESS. I know it's silly, but it often hurt my pride to find those silly little errors. Quick and painless, however, were based in pride, and as the saying goes, "Pride comes before a fall."

I know time with my paper (or even my blog, yes I'm aware there are a few pieces I haven't edited here) would solve many of my problems. However, I always get the feeling right before I edit like someone is dragging their nails down a chalk board. While I'm doing it there is not problem and afterwards I usually feel secure. It's those minutes before that drive me crazy. I feel like I'm having a confrontation with my weakness and I, like many, don't like it.

So the question becomes is there a way to find joy in editing? To face yourself and not only be comfortable doing so, but enjoy doing it. You might be thinking this girl is nuts! Who equates editing with self worth? Well, the answer is a career writer. A career writer should care about the quality of their work. Deadlines should never be an excuse. Though, I admit, it's often deadlines I blame for my lack of editing.

Maybe if I start placing my pride in my ability to edit, I can change my mindset. When that happens I think I will truly find that joy in writing. In reworking and refining what I have into the best pieces I can make.

That and my proverbial head will enjoy not being bruised by repeated drops onto a hard table and my ears can keep their normal pale color.