What time is it?

PARTY TIME!

What time is it?

PARTY TIME!

Woohoo! CELEBRATE! YEAHHHH!!!

I JUST finished NaNoWriMo 2011!

10 days early! BOO-YAH!

I quickly typed up my epilogue and then was ecstatic when I hit 51,967 according to the NaNo validator!

As we know (see previous post), I started with 38,516 at noon! And somehow I got 13,451 words in 6 hours! WOOO! (Some was copy and pasted from the plot work I did earlier this month, not gonna lie — but it counts because I wrote it after Nov 1!)

Now, those 13,451 words may not be the best words… in fact, most are downright crappy, but I did it! HI-YA! ROUNDHOUSE TO YOUR FACE NANO!

Sooooo now it’s time to take a break. My butt HURTS! But come Monday morning, it’s editing time. But for now, IT’S PARTY TIME!

I decided on Friday that I want to finish my NaNoWriMo novel this weekend. 

Here we are on Sunday… and I totally put it off. Didn’t write ONE WORD at all on Saturday. So now, I am having an 11,484 word marathon. 

I’m a few hours in, but I only have 4,046 words until I hit 50K. 10 days ahead of schedule — this is awesome!

I’m doing this! I’m finishing this novel TODAY! And it’ll be nice because once it’s done, I can focus on studying for the GRE and writing my Statement of Purpose… so… here we go! And of course, on editing it to make it a suitable sample for submission. 

Man, I thought getting 50,000 words was going to be kind of difficult. But I am really skimming, almost just heavily summarizing scenes. There is so much treatment that needs to happen, so much detail that needs to be injected. I think the actual novel will end up being much longer… probably at least 70,000 words. But we’ll see! I don’t know. I just know that there will be so much writing that needs to take place even AFTER this first draft is done.

My dream came true when I furnished my apartment here in Michigan: I finally had an entire wall dedicated to bookshelves. Nice, tall, white bookshelves… and those bookshelves are filled up with my beloved books. 

It’s been a while since I’ve been in one place long enough to have all of my books with me. Years and years. (And actually, they are still coming by the boxful from California. But I will be reunited with all of them someday soon!)

I am very excited, though. My collection of books is a range of fiction, some text books, language reference books, memoir, etc. I even have a special “epicness” shelf dedicated to Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, and Twilight (yeah, that’s right — booyah!). But as I was unpacking my books, I was a little surprised: the books that I was most familiar with and most surprised and excited about having near me again were my collection of self-help books. 

You see, no one really likes to admit that they actually like self-help books. I mean, admitting that is almost like saying you should be admitted, if you know what I mean. Self-help indicates that you actually NEED help. And in the United States, we’re all about looking like we have it together — even if we’re falling apart inside.

Well, I’m here to admit that I love the self-improvement genre. I am fascinated by how much advice there is about how to live a better life. And as someone who is constantly trying to improve and better her life, well, it’s like striking gold!

Anyway, up until this point, I was all about books that dealt with specific issues: like relationships and health and organization. But now, I have a different approach. To use a nature metaphor: In order to become a sturdier tree, I must focus on the roots rather than the branches.

Let’s put it this way: let’s say someone really wants to lose weight. So, they buy a book about how to get their health on track. They realize that they need to eat less calories and go to the gym. So, they do it for a few weeks and then they stop. And they wonder: why can’t I find the motivation? What’s happening?

The thing is… there’s probably a deeper issue there. And that issue must be dealt with in order to make use of the information from the health book. 

So, true story: I was at the library today. I was supposed to go and work on writing my novel for NaNoWriMo, but of course, I got distracted by all the shiny, pretty books. 15 minutes later, I was schlumping over to a table with an armful of books that had caught my interest. Now, there were tons of self-help books, but I went for some different ones than I would usually get.

Right now, I am really into figuring out more about consciousness, Zen, the “Ego” and the “Self.” (So, I ended up checking out The 21-Day Consciousness Cleanse by Debbie Ford, A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life’s Purpose by Eckhart Tolle and Outliers: The Story of Success by Malcolm Gladwell — that one just seemed interesting and I’ve been wanting to read it for a while). Because if I can figure out how to live more consciously, how to understand all of that stuff, then I think I can better attack the other things like how to cook, how to have a more balanced vegetarian diet, how to be more organized, etc, etc. 

So really, this is just a post to say that I am really excited to read these new books that take it to the next level of self-development. We’ll see how it goes!

I’ve been watching Oprah’s Life Class through On-Demand and online and it has been very powerful. I love it. Oprah’s so wise!

Let me pause for a moment and say: I’m speaking in terms of the definition of Extrovert in the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI). I am absolutely in love with MBTI and as this blog is basically my thought dumping ground, I will probably write about it a lot (especially since my friends are probably tired of hearing about it). If you don’t know what I’m talking about, basically, it’s one of the most accurate personality tests I’ve ever taken. It’s really opened my mind and helped me in a lot of my friendships and relationships. I strongly urge you to take the abbreviated version here (it only takes about 10-15 minutes and it’s free) and then check out your detailed results here (please check out this description rather than the one on the first website).

Back to this entry: I am an extrovert, though I can be very introverted, too. At times, I do wonder if I am a hermit. But, at the end of the day, I am very energized by my interactions with other people and too much time alone drains me and also makes me just plain weird.  

This is interesting, though, because I really love writing — an activity that requires a lot of introspection and also alone time. I love journaling and sometimes I feel like I don’t know what I think or who I am until I get pen to paper or finger to keyboard. But, I’m a very impulsive writer. I am not deliberate. I write what I think as I am thinking it or sometimes I don’t know what I think until I write. I make discoveries and open new pathways while writing. This is exciting to me… but it is also… well… this is what is making writing for others a very NEW and challenging process for me. In my journal (and here, as you’ll see), I just write. Whatever comes to mind is fine because, well, it’s my journal/blog. 

But I am getting more serious about writing now. Instead of having it be just a hobby for my own personal pleasure, I want to write in order to connect to other people, to learn and to help other people learn, too. I want to tell stories — not just my own — and… quite honestly, I have an agenda. I have values that I want to share, I have people who I want to encourage. I’ve done a lot of reflection and I believe that my purpose can be made manifest through writing (and in other ways as well). I do genuinely believe that I have a natural gift when it comes to communication. I think that I have some qualities that set me up to be a personable writer even without a lot of training. But I have come to a point in my life where I see that it’s not enough.

In high school and college, I think I took comfort in being able to say, “Oh, you think I’m a good writer? But I’ve not really had much formal training.” I used to write on the edge. I would wait until the last minute to do papers. And when I would get an A without putting in that much effort (at least, not over a long amount of time), I think it made me feel good about myself. But at the same time, I always wondered: “how much better would I be if I took my time? If I pushed myself more?” I think that my “arrogance” in waiting until the last moment, of being improvisational, was really just fear. When you put effort into something and let others know, that’s vulnerability. By waiting until the last minute to do something, I had something I could fall back on. “Oh, it wasn’t good? Oh, well that’s because I waited until the last minute.” It took the blame off of me and put it onto my time constraint. In some ways, it was a mask. This has led me to have some certain habits with writing. I rarely take my time and I love the exciting parts of it. I love to just go, go, go and be in that flow moment. I love getting carried away by an emotion, by a moment, and I love the rush, the danger of feeling that this thought or idea could be lost if I don’t just do it — just write very organically and then hit the publish button or the send button.

And even though those moments are quite amazing and fun, I always wonder: “Could I have been more effective given more time?” In some ways, I do have regrets with some of the papers and articles I have written in the past. If I had spent more time on them, I could have said what I wanted to say in a more powerful way.

As an adolescent, I never had to think about delivering a more powerful message because my time was spent making myself invisible and unheard. I was so used to not having a voice and muting myself. I had a lot of self-esteem issues and I felt unworthy of anyone else’s time or attention (even if I secretly craved it). So this is why, in recent times, it has taken me aback to know that people are actually listening to me. And now that I have people’s attention, what will I do with it? Will I waste it? Will I add noise without content? Or will I use it to help advocate change, understanding, growth, and other things I value? I’m so used to thinking that no one cares, that no one truly values what I have to say. Now I am starting to notice that people are listening and that scares me. I want to be valuable.

So, that’s why this blog exists. In a way, this blog is a bridge between the old one I had that a lot of people visited and the blog I hope to have in the future. I need a space where I can just talk, just work out my thoughts and figure out what it is I want to say. And how I want to say it. 

Connecting it back to the first thought, extroversion: I think in a lot of ways, my extroversion (combined with some other qualities) is what makes it difficult for me to be a thoughtful and powerful writer. My priorities in communication aren’t necessarily to be understood, but to connect. When I talk to someone in person, it kind of goes like this: They have a thought, which inspires a thought in me, which inspires a thought in them, which inspires a thought in me. There is meaning and significance in our vocabulary, but our intentions are reinforced by our body language and thus, better understood. My openness — especially in person — can create a mood, a safe space where we have instant rapport, a rare moment to be vulnerable. I know that this connection can be easily broken by an interruption or time constraints. I also know that it’s easy to feel embarrassed because you were being so open or because you felt like you shared too much. Because I realize that this moment/mood/feeling is so precious and rare, I just go with it. I take advantage of the moment — not to manipulate, but to connect — and rather than overanalyze or be picky with language, I trust that you will understand what I am trying to say (and my body language backs this up) and you also trust that I will understand you in this moment.

This is not the same with writing. This same behavior — just going with the flow, saying what comes to mind without filtering it — can seen as reckless, presumptuous, arrogant, clueless, delusional, and a whole other host of negative adjectives. I’m learning that it takes much more work to create that same safe space in writing that I can create in person. For example, in person I can make someone feel more comfortable with a single facial expression. With writing, I have to use vocabulary to express the same things that a glance or a smile would. In person, I can use generic words like “fine,” “good,” or “okay” but rely on my tone and body language to indicate what I mean specifically. In writing, being generic forces the receiver to assume — and that assumption could end up being the exact opposite of my intention.

In terms of MBTI, I am an ENFP and I feel the most alive when I have a new thought or discovery. I feel an overpowering sense joy, but it also feels slightly empty unless I share it with someone else. Maybe I am looking for validation — but I think I am mostly looking to connect. To not be alone. And because this moment can be fleeting, I get impulsive and want to share it before the mood goes away or I get distracted by something else.  

In my haste to connect, I prioritize MY mood, MY feelings, MY state of flow, and I push aside my regard for the receiver. I put it on them to make the connections between this idea and that, to assume my tone or intention, and to understand where this is even all coming from.

However, I’m learning that I must explain my intentions, clarify my emotions and thoughts, and more carefully consider the audience’s reception of my written message in order to more powerfully connect. I must “show” my smile, “show” my engaged eyes, “show” my trustworthiness, “show” that this is a safe place where they can be open as well. I want to “show” that I am not using them to listen to only my ideas and my thoughts, but that I want them to know that I value their thoughts just as much as my own — if not more. I want my openness to be an example to the receiver; I want them to know that they can be just as open with me (though they should not feel pressured to share as much as I do). Without taking the time to set up my intention, it can look like I just want someone to listen to me and to pay attention to me. Furthermore, because this rushed message leaves out personal regard to the reader, it suggests that I do not care who is listening as long as anyone is listening. It also suggests that I do not care about the reader’s feelings or reaction. And if this were true, then I shouldn’t change. But the thing is: it is actually the opposite. I care so very much. My hastiness to share comes across as a symptom of my disregard for the receiver, but in actuality it is a symptom of my overeagerness and impatience to reach out and pull the receiver in closer to me.

So, as someone seeking a professional writing career, I am learning that my extroversion may be a hurdle. I must remember that writing is not the same as talking. What comes somewhat effortlessly in social situations will probably require much more time and effort to set up using only language. It will be a challenge, but I like challenges. I am an ENFP, after all. ;) <— Yes, emoticons are cheating… I know. But I’m still learning!!!

I’m working on my application to grad school and I had to take a break. I was getting very emotional… 

You see… sometimes it’s weird when a lot of different things align. When they all add up and you see the connections and things just make sense. And then there’s the amazing wonder that comes with feeling like you are in the right place at the right time. But maybe that’s hard to understand unless you’ve been in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

I’m doing NaNoWriMo this year and I’m also applying to graduate school. Both were possibilities I had been considering for a while, but I made the actual decision to pursue them quite recently. These “last minute” decisions mean quick action. My days must be packed with tons of writing, prep for GRE (I don’t know the last time I did a math problem that wasn’t simple addition, subtraction, or multiplication), and soul-searching. 

I’m pursuing a Creative Writing M.F.A. and to do that, you really have to dig deep. There are many sources out there that say, “DO NOT DO THIS! DO NOT GET THIS DEGREE!” After all, there is no guaranteed “success” with a Creative Writing M.F.A. The training, the hours, the work — none of it leads to a specific career or a definite job opportunity. I could end up in the same place I am now. On the outside, everything could be the same — except that I would have a lot of debt. Because of these reasons, I’ve tried talking myself out of it for a number of years. I’ve tried to be more practical. I’ve tried to think of writing as just a hobby. 

But as more time goes by, I am seeing that writing and I are intertwined. We are inextricably connected. Words have been my life, my strength, my hope. It is through others’ words that I have found courage. Courage. Even just writing that word is scary. But words, from trusted sources, have given me the courage to look at what I really want and to no longer be afraid to embrace that which would would fulfill me. Courage… is a process, I’m finding. I’m realizing that I am a little more cowardly than I would like to be. So I am trying to remedy that by facing my fears.

And that’s what I am doing by applying to this Creative Writing program. There are no guarantees. This is unpredictable. I can’t take a calculated risk with this and that scares me to my core. I’ve lived my whole life doing things that, for the most part, I knew I was good at and that I knew I would excel at. But with this? I have to put myself out there, say it’s something that I really want, and know that it might not “pay off” in a way that would be satisfying to most other people. I might not even get in — and that’s what makes me want to run away and not even apply. Because I’m afraid of wanting something so bad and not getting it. So, I try to want something else more attainable. And that can only last for so long. And it seems I’ve hit the expiration date on that one.

So, I’m doing this. And each step is draining. For example, I was nervous as I signed up for the GRE. And I nearly had an anxiety attack as I told my professors that I needed a letter of recommendation from them. I was overwhelmed and crying. I wanted to run away and take it all back. Embarrassed and painfully exposed is how I felt. But I pushed through it and went ahead with it. 

And now I am sitting here, working on an explain as to why I want this so badly and why they should let me in over the hundreds of other people who are applying. And figuring out the answer to that question, the why behind this weird desire that keeps popping up, takes a lot of digging. A lot of emotional work. A lot of getting down to the real nitty gritty of why I must do this, why I must finally focus and concentrate on writing beyond journaling. Why I feel it could serve more than just me. 

I got emotional, but in a good way. And then I came here, to my little piece of the web, and it’s nice to be able to summarize some of the things that are happening to me and some of the things that are coming out as a result of writing my NaNoWriMo novel. And it’s in these moments that I realize that I am exactly where I need to be. 

I’m a journaler.

I used to try to write down everything I was seeing and experiencing. I think it’s because I wanted to keep those moments forever. Life goes by so fast and journaling was my attempt to make those special little moments last forever.

My relationship with memories is like that of an aromatherapist and their essential oils. With the right mixture and care, they can bottle up an emotion that evokesa powerful response at a later time.

When I feel joy, I feel it with everything I am. But in some ways, I am outside of the moment, too. And I always have this feeling of wishing that time weren’t so linear… that if it could expand like those teeny tiny towels from gift shops that become full size when you just add water, then I could rest in that moment forever… nestle in and just feel that overpowering, overwhelming, overcomforting joy forever.

I think journaling is my attempt to take something that is intangible (an emotion, an experience) and make it tangible. I write it down so I can go back to that place when there was so much hope and so much possibility and so much happiness. 

This morning, I thought about last night. I thought about how my roommate and I spent hours laughing. I thought about how it was that real, gut-busting laughter where you have to hold your stomach and close your eyes and possibly lay down because it’s just too much. I remember how that didn’t use to happen that often for me — if at all. And how now it’s happening on a daily basis. 

And so, of course, I wanted to write it down. 

I used to write down every joke, every detail that I could remember. All of the specifics. And I could do that with last night. But something I’ve realized in the evolution of my personal journaling style is: try as I might to actually capture a moment, I will always be behind. Because how can I live life if I am constantly documenting it? How can I have a new moment when I am living in old ones? So, I have to strike a balance. I have to compromise. 

So, my journaling style has evolved since I was a little girl. Instead of writing everything, I write when I am inspired. And sometimes, I leave the physical details out and focus on the emotional. And instead of looking at it as one stationary moment, I see it as a quilt… as just another memory to add to a growing fabric of my friendships, of my relationships. I see it as something that characterizes our connection together. 

In 2009, I decided to do NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) for the first time. I had heard about it from some people at my college and I always wanted to give it a whirl. In late 2009, I found myself without a job and wondering what to do with my life. I always liked writing and secretly dreamed of being some sort of professional writer… so in addition to enrolling in a fiction class at a local community college that semester, I was determined to do NaNo. I mean, writing a novel was on my bucket list anyway.

I ended up “winning” (getting to over 50,000 words). I had hoped I would do the word requirement everyday — almost 1,700 words a day that would help support a newfound writing habit. Instead, I just wrote my novel in fits of 5,000 word bursts and sometimes 10,000 words. So, in November, I spent about 7 days working on my novel.

I’m doing NaNoWriMo this year and I have a different goal. In 2009, I wrote just to say I had a novel. Just to have done it. To prove to myself that I could do it.

This year, I am writing for a different reason. I’m telling a story that I’ve been wanting to tell for a long time. I thought I could just have a general outline and see where that took me, but instead, I had to take a few days off and focus strictly on crafting a solid plot.

And it’s nice, because now it’s going smoothly. I’m actually writing a story, with goals in it, with a structure. My last NaNo was all over the place. I still haven’t looked at that manuscript again because it just tuned into a bunch of craziness. 

But today, as I broke 30,000 words, I realized how much I was enjoying this and how I actually have a cohesive story on my hands. And it’s going to need so much work, but it feels good to work hard, to put in effort on an almost-daily basis, and to figure out the pieces of where this is going.

Writing is hard work. It can be very frustrating and tedious at times. But I love it so much. I really do. And that’s why I decided I want this for my life. For my career. But more on this later. Much, much more. For now, I’m just going to celebrate the fact that I broke 30,000! :)

(Source: nanowrimo.org)

I had my first blog when I was about 13 years old. That was back when most people didn’t know what a blog was — and I liked that. There was freedom in my little boring blog. I don’t even know what I updated about — but it didn’t matter. I didn’t think about whether or not it was interesting. I guess what I liked most about it was that I could simultaneously share my thoughts and keep them hidden. No one I knew in real life had access to my blog. It was a secret and it was public. 

I’ve had many blogs since that time and most have died. My most recent blog actually was pretty frequently visited by people I know in real life… and for some reason, that created a kind of pressure. I don’t think anyone was expecting me to be entertaining or witty or anything like that, but suddenly, I realized that people were visiting, coming back, and that I should be more careful with what I write. Because, you know, people’s time is precious and I didn’t want to waste it.

So, I’ve been silent. I’ve told myself to write in my own journal and to keep some thoughts for myself. And of course, I do (to a certain extent). But a part of me (and maybe it’s the 13-year-old in me that doesn’t ever want to seem to go away) wants a place that’s secretly public again. A place free from the pressure of “trying.” I don’t want this blog to be much of anything. I just want a place to put some random thoughts that I have. Maybe so I stop talking so much about these things with my friends, boring them with my every single little thought. Now I have a piece of the web for that.