Only Human

I covered it's been hard for me to embrace who I really am. In fact, I think I should admit that I still have no bloody idea who I am exactly. I'm attempting to discover myself, the person, the girl I am deep underneath the layers and layers of nature and nurturing I've acquired over the years of my life. Asking the questions, 

"Is this really me? Or is it a remnant of who they wanted me to be?" 

"Do I really think like this, or is this left-over from the fake me?" 

"What *is* my style?" 

"What do I think genuinely about this?" 

I find myself wondering who the hell I really am. I attempt to extend myself grace as I learn the little things about myself. I attempt (and fail) to love myself. As I ask these questions, however, I sometimes forget that this self-discovery is just not that: self-discovery. It is more. It is the discovery of who I am to the world as well. It is the discovery of who I am to other people while finding myself.

Am I the girl who loves herself only to forget to extend that love to others? Or does it make me more susceptible to extend grace and love? I find myself struggling to take in grace and to give it.

I am harsh with myself, loathing of all the negative qualities that seem to consume my life. But not

only that but I am also not as giving as I could be when it comes to others and the negativity I face 

from them. 

I think of my best friend and the qualities about her very self that tend to rub me the wrong way. There's nothing wrong persay with what she does, but it annoys me and as a result I look at these actions as offensive, my sensitive mind glaring at her because she's late and I'm early, she's stubborn in the moments

where I am not and I am stubborn where she is not. You'd think we balance each other out quite nicely, and we do. Normally I just smile and roll my eyes because we are best friends and that's just what best friends do. We irritate each other. 

However there are the days where I am just not easily amused and want to speak harshly.

And while I don't, because I'd feel much too guilty to say anything, I do tend to lock these feelings up inside, harboring them. What good is there in harboring feelings? When, one day, I was faced with a sudden realization that I was the one being completely unreasonable and selfish in my expectations of those who surround me in life. 

I was reading John Green's Paper Towns. And a friend of the main character says to him: 

“You know your problem, Quentin? You keep expecting people not to be themselves. I mean, I could hate you for being massively unpunctual and for never being interested in anything other than Margo Roth Spiegelman, and for, like, never asking me about how it's going with my girlfriend - but I don't give a shit, man, because you're you. My parents have a shit ton of black Santas, but that's okay. They're them. I'm too obsessed with a reference website to answer my phone sometimes when my friends call, or my girlfriend. That's okay, too. That's me. You like me anyway. And I like you. You're funny, and you're smart, and you may show up late, but you always show up eventually.” 

This is my problem. I keep expecting people to not be themselves.

How can I expect the world to accept me, the real me when I am unable to accept others for who they are? 

Real acceptance isn't about embracing the likable parts. It isn't about accepting the bits we like about each other. It is about accepting each other as wholes. Not a part of me, not a part of you, not halves, not pieces: all of each other. Taking the good with the bad, extending grace to one another for the screw-ups, showing forgiveness for the hurts, acting kindness for the mistakes, and above all being loving through the moments when we least feel like it. 

I have written on my hand, "Only Human", because I am that obnoxious girl who writes on her hands.

But also because it is the reminder I needed this week. The reminder that I am only human not only as I struggle to find and understand myself, but also as I learn to grow and live with those around me. I want to remember that not only am I human, but so is the rest of the world. I do not live in a bubble, I do not live alone, nor do I want to be alone. And because of this fact, I want to remember that those around me?
They are only human too.

Words

In the film The Book Thief Max, a Jew in hiding, asks Leisl, his protector, to describe the day to him. She responds with a cliche answer and he corrects her...

If your eyes could speak, what would they say...

It's the best advice I believe every writer should apply to their writing. One of my greatest struggles with my novels is to capture the story in a way that shows my readers how I've envisioned it. I have a vivid imagination and see my stories as if they were films inside my mind. It is incredibly easy for me to get into the rut of thinking that people should just envision the same film as I've seen it in my own mind. Weirdly enough, it doesn't always work that way with just roughly describing the story. It takes a unique approach of writing to capture each scene as I've seen it unfold.

If my eyes could speak, what would they say? They'd speak the depth and hues of colors, the warmth and comfort of relationships, the pointed and prickly way words can stick on a person...

This year's inspiration for my novels is simple...to write what my eyes say.

Books

It's amazing how overwhelmed I feel with the variety of things I could do in my spare time, now that the semester is over.

Should I try a new recipe? Should I deep-clean my room? Sort my books? Watch a movie? Knit? Read?
I actually have the time to read!

As always, I have an enormous stack to read, too. So what is there in my stack to read? Quite a bit. The photo above is merely one of the stacks I have lined up. I was very tempted to try the whole Project 52, where you read a book per week throughout the year. However, I know that realistically it's impossible for me to read a book in a week what with everything else I want to accomplish and do this year. Instead, I'm going to just be lax where reading is concerned and make a point of trying to read as often as I can.

So what exactly do I have coming up? A lot of Young Adult novels, apparently. I never quite realize how often I frequent the Young Adult section at the library until I stack all the books together at home and the red YA stickers stick out.

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone by J.K. Rowling is a re-read. It is a well-written, interesting children's book. And I just felt like re-reading it. That's my excuse. ;)

I Thought It Was Just Me (But It Isn't) by Brene Brown was a bday gift and recommendation from my older sister. The only piece of non-fiction in my pile, currently, it is *fascinating* and thought-provoking. A book about how "We spend too much precious time and energy managing perception and creating carefully edited versions of ourselves to show to the world..." A book abut how imperfections are okay, no one is perfect, and being vulnerable is not a weakness. Really good stuff here, people!

Demonglass - by Rachel Hawkins is the 2nd in the Hex Hall series. Tale of a girl, who thought she was a witch when she was sent to Hex Hall, a reform school for witches, fairies, werewolves, and other mythical creatures. There she discovers she's in fact a demon and her crush is working for a group set out to wipe out all of her kind. Interesting yet not quite as well-written as I'd like. A bit too predictable, Sophie feels like a bit of a whiner to me. ;)

Rose Under Fire by Elizabeth Wein is the sequel to Code Name Verity. I am in awe of Elizabeth Wein's writing style with its depth and intrigue. I am excited to crack this book open and it will balance nicely amongst all the fluff I have in this stack without feeling like a chore.

A Brief History of Montmaray by Michelle Cooper is the first book in a series. In journal format, we discover the world of Sophie, member of the royal family on the tiny island of Montmaray just before the outbreak of WWII. I do love a good journal-format novel and Sophie is relateable while her little sister is hilarious and her cousin is fascinating.

Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins is yet another re-read. Seeing the film Catching Fire called for a re-read of the entire series. I feel like every time I read this series, I learn something new and I relate so much more to Katniss.

Etiquette and Espionage by Gail Carriger was a recommendation from my co-worker, the Young Adult librarian at work. Apparently it is a novel about a teen girl sent to a very unusual finishing school.

The 5th Wave by Rick Yancey was a recommendation from a patron, a mom who has pretty good taste in novels. I'll admit I groaned a little bit when the library added this to their collection...there has been no end of dystopian and post-apocalyptic young adult novels since The Hunger Games, but I've become more willing to try this particular one since it was recommended by this particular patron. Here's hoping to some good reading success!

What about you, blog followers? What have you been reading and what do you recommend?

Writer's Block

There are times when writing drives me completely insane! I mean, the times when it just won't flow out and I'm stuck with these scenes in my head and yet no way to get them out, pen to paper! It's so completely aggravating. Which is why I am so excited to say that brilliance has struck in a completely different form...and that brilliance came from...*drumroll*...Pinterest, where else? :P

Pinterest is good for many different things...I'll admit, I'm addicted. ;) Who isn't, these days?
Anywho, I found an image on Pinterest of a journal...a journal overflowing with pictures and words and ticket stubs and postcards...little pieces of beauty. And it struck me as I saw that image: that is exactly what my novel is about! Finding beauty, even in little things...even in times when it's hardest to find anything of beauty. And as I discussed these ideas with my favorite writing friend: Scarlett!...I found myself getting more and more excited. I decided to try something new...something more 3-D when it came to capturing the thoughts and feelings and emotions of my characters. 

I've recently started to edit my novel, transcribing it from 3rd person POV to 1st person. It's been very strange, to say the least, especially since it's been years and years since I attempted to write a novel in first person. Needless to say, the first time I attempted it years ago was not successful. I found it to be much too difficult. Yet, ever since I started this novel, something kept nagging me at the back of my mind that this novel was *meant* to be written in first person. I ignored it but eventually had to give in. And happily, it's made writing the novel that much easier!

All that to say, I've begun to place myself in the shoes of my protagonist...to try to *be* her. What have I done? I've taken novel planning to the next level. ;) 

I took all my scrapbooking supplies, a blank journal, all my magazines and spare pictures/postcards, etc. and plopped them down on my bedroom floor. With a corkboard and a fun playlist playing on my boombox...oh, yes, and don't forget a cup of tea!...I began to write, to piece together, to tape, to cut, to glue, to transcribe, to scribble...I lost myself in the world of Julian & Simon.

It's not necessarily the journal of Julian, my protagonist, so much as a journal of my discovering new people. I write out scenes for my  novel, I jot down notes, I paste in photographs and magazine clippings that illustrate what I'm trying to say. I put down photos of places and people that Julian sees.

What I'm doing is viewing the world through a character's eyes. 

It seems completely insane, doesn't it? To get one's self so wrapped up into a novel and to go to so much trouble to do so. It is insane! I'll admit it, readily! But it's also fun! And here's hoping it causes the juices to flow!

How far do you go to overcome writer's block? ;) 

"Writers are desperate people..."

For each book I finish reading, I bring home two more. It's a vicious, never-ending circle. And I love it.

So much of my reading stacks these days are made up of children's and young adult novels. Why? Two reasons really...I read when I'm tired these days, and the last thing I want is a particularly deep book that needs my entire mind to focus on. (No, I save those books for when I'm most energized in my mind!) Instead I choose children's and young adult books because of my love for them. The simple yet meaningful or total fluff and fun! stories that you can get totally sucked into, no matter what age you are.

But most importantly, I have been immersing myself into the world of young adult novels because I am writing a young adult novel. Part of the whole process of writing this novel has me digging deep into the mind of young, teenage Sam as well as reading book after book of young adults struggling with some issue in their lives. The language, the culture, the thought-process...it's like research for a  fictional story. On top of all that I have also dug out my own journals from ages 16-20 and oh the flood of memories comes back! Experiencing those feelings all over again, understanding, sympathizing with, and cringing at my old self. I went through those same novel-like moments of struggling to discover who I am.

In the odd yet brief, free moments that I have when I'm not reading, I am writing. My novel is coming along so slowly because the words have to be right with this novel. The understanding and opinions and attitudes of my characters...the struggles...all of it has to be as real as possible. But a little bit every other day or so, several sentences are added and the more I get to know my characters, the more I relate to them.

Isn't that why we read in the first place? We relate and yet it's not real...merely a distraction from life.
I won't lie, I have thought several times of giving up on this novel because I feel like I relate too much with the characters, and because all this reading and digging back into my past has brought back hard memories as well as pleasant ones.  But there is a side to me, the teenage Sam who wants this novel to be written. A book about young people who struggle and grow and crave understanding. It is a novel that must be written. So, here I am, comfortably situated on the couch, pillows behind my back, Pandora playing, and a cup of tea nearby as I let the words slip from fingers to keys. I know it won't be a great novel and most likely will never be published, but it will be mine. It is already mine...words that are a part of me in a way that some people cannot understand. And even if no one ever reads it, I know there will be a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction once I've finished this novel, because I am a writer and sometimes there are words that just need to be written.

Isn't that why writers write, after all? It's not because we love it, although we do...there are days where we absolutely loathe writing. It's not because we are passionate about words, although we are...there are days where we passionately wish we'd never write another word. It's because we must. However, I find that people assume that because I'm a writer that I write everyday. Normally, this is true...these days I tend to write every day, either in the form of a letter or a blogpost or a journal entry. However, I can go weeks, even months without writing a single word for myself. This is especially true during a school semester. I get over-loaded with essays and papers and assignments for school writing that my desire for any other writing becomes burnt out. Do I believe a writer has to write everyday to be a writer? No, I don't. I think a writer writes when he or she simply needs to. If there is the desire to write and you follow up on that desire, you are a writer, in my book.

Tell me, why do you write? What do you write? Perhaps the words come out in a trickle or in a steady stream. Perhaps they appear once every blue moon or perhaps every day. I am not a strong writer in the sense that my writing is spectacular, nor do I fool myself to believe that many people read this blog or enjoy it. But I write because the words come. More often than not they come messily and in a confused ball that seems to just spew out of my mind.

So, yes, please, tell me, why do you write? Share something with me, ask about guest-posting on my blog! Share your blog! Share a novel, a poem, a journal entry...anything! I am intensely curious about other writers who write because they must.

Books

Ever since the semester ended, I've been going a lil book-crazy. I've currently managed to get my book pile down to 11 books. Mostly fluff with a few with more depth to them. But which ones do I recommend?

Elizabeth Wein has showed how much a genius she is with her book Code Name Verity.  I'm a sucker for anything WWII and anything to do with enigmas and code-breakers...spies, personal stories whether it be fictional or nonfictional...it's all incredibly fascinating. And Code Name Verity doesn't disappoint.  It is so well-written and detailed that it is not difficult to get wrapped up into the story. Julia and Maddie are two characters you fall for. You cannot get more kickass women than those who do their bit for the war. I read this wonderful book and felt empowered as a woman to do something, something I love. Brilliant stuff, Elizabeth Wein.

Just One Day was a book I finished several weeks ago, but it still sticks in my mind.  It was such a refreshing read and completely inspirational for my own novel that I'm currently working on.  Unlike most YA books it's not cheesy, and while maybe it is a little cliche in its plot, it holds something that similar books lack: charm. Allyson is a character that I can completely relate to.  A girl searching for herself, taking chances, falling in love, and finally pushing past denial to pursue what she loves instead of what is expected of her.  Complete with travel, this book won me over and pushed me to explore the possibilities of different paths my own novel can take.

Photojournalism and Today's News by Loup Langton is a book I read a couple months ago for my big class project on photojournalism.  When I was told I would have to write a research paper on something related to my degree, it was hard for me to decide which aspect of photography I wanted to write about. I sat, notebook on my lap, and I began to create a list of what it is about photography that I love. The one thing that kept popping up on the list was: Impact. I love the impact of photography. And that led to the question of what kind of photography creates an impact on our world. The answer was obvious: photojournalism.
I was worried when I started researching that I would be unable to find the sources I'd need to explore the photography aspect of Photojournalism vs. the journalism side. This book was amazing. If I ever should one day find myself in the field of photojournalism, some of the credit definitely goes to Loup Langton for his inspiring book.  Photojournalism is explained and detailed so well in this book with photos as examples and wonderful, expressive quotes and stories from various photojournalists, explaining how their job change society, represent stories, and impact us all.