O, the Many Paths of Life

Do you ever feel like your life is one of those choose-your-own-ending books? I do.

It seems like there are so many options and so many different turns your life can take, each one affecting the outcome. Should I go here? Should I go to this school? Should I take this job? What should I write about? What should I eat for lunch?! Okay, so maybe what you eat for lunch isn't as major, but it really is if you think about it in the long run (but that's an entirely different post).

Even little, seemingly insignificant decisions can lead to running into a person you wouldn't have otherwise seen, or hearing something you needed to. All events in our lives build upon each other, making us who we are. So what if you make a decision differently than how you should? How will it alter your life?

Tribute of the Mother's Day Variety

None of us would be here without our moms. I mean that literally...it's physically impossible for us to have been born without a mother.

Other than that, though, it's also impossible for us to be where we are today without a maternal figure in our lives. I've been blessed with a fantastic mom. Of course we have our differences at times, but we enjoy a much deeper relationship than most daughters can claim.

My life right now is a direct result of my mom's influence. She was the first person on either side of my family to become a Christian and without that occurrence, I wouldn't have gone to church when I was little. I wouldn't have heard that sermon when I was five, the day I decided to accept Christ into my heart. I wouldn't have grown up in an environment powered by Mom that encouraged me to make decisions based on what God wanted for my life.

When I was five years old, my mom almost died from an extremely serious illness. Those times were intense, but she's still kicking and at a greatly force than ever before...and completely healed too!

She's silly, she's weird, she's beautiful, she's funny, and I love her more than anyone can even know.

Long story short, it's a good thing Mom's in my life. And I'll never stop praising the Lord for putting (and keeping) her here with us.

Cures for Writer's Block

I've heard different methods, read author's advice on "how to deal" with this affliction. I still haven't found a sure-fire way to get past it, but I thought I would spend a brief post imparting my aquired knowledge. Who knows! It might help you.

1. I learned that a good writing friend of mine likes to write "fan fiction" in other to get over a writing rut. Sometimes it helps just writing about characters already established. And you don't have to work on a specific part like plot or scenery to progress the story. You can compose a dramatic monologue from a certain person's perspective or add a much-desired twist or create an alternate ending. In my friend's experience, it helps revive the creative mind. www.fanfiction.net

2. Every book I've read written by writers for writers says that when encountering a bump in the twisted, unsure road that is authorhood, the surest way to conquer is by just writing...something....anything. As long as you consistently put something on that blank page, an idea is sure to come. Some even say mindlessly typing "blank blank blank" or "word word word" or something of that effect will help. I think they mean that by going through the physical motion of writing, you're mind will soon follow. Whether this is true or not I can't certainly say, but on rare occasions it has helped.

In short, everyone has their own little trick when it comes to writing, whether it's dealing with creative difficulties or the order in which you compile your story. What techniques do you use? Any interesting theories or methods?

Musings about Japan

Warning: this post will probably be a little rambling and may seem aimless, but bear with me!

This weekend, as I mentioned before, I went to my friend's new family lake house. It was a beautiful location, with tall trees that stretched farther toward the sky than the squat live oaks we have here. As the name would entail, we were right beside a massive lake, although I was mildly depressed when I discovered it was manmade. The calming beauty was dampened, however, by the catastrophe in Japan that I heard of from my mom when we were beginning the 4 hour drive to the retreat. I can't imagine an earthquake, what it must feel like when the ground beneath you (the one thing we think of as solid) is actually quavering. I can't imagine what it would be like to see a rolling tower of waves rushing toward you, literally swallowing every thing you own. But the thought makes me sick. It would make any of us horrified if we actually took the time to think of the implications were we in their shoes. So many of us (I would venture to guess 80%, at least) suffer from what I call "The Bubble Syndrome." We constantly separate ourselves from any train of thought that doesn't seem comfortable or applicable to our own lives. We don't even attempt to truly imagine what someone else is thinking or feeling. Right now you're probably thinking that you're not "one of those people"...you actually sympathize with people around the world dealing with tragedy. If you are, think again. Do you honestly even take the time to see a situation from your brother's viewpoint or try to understand an argument from your best friend's mind? Probably not.

I believe it was the British poet, Matthew Arnold who conveyed similar sentiments in one of his poems, lamenting the unavoidable isolation we all face in life. You may feel extremely close to someone, but then you realize that you can never truly be of one mind. Individuality is a wonderful thing, but it can also be an excuse for narcissism. It can be used as a tool to further separate "us" from "them." We seem to view others through a pane of glass, their pain isn't real to us. Why? Because they're aren't me, and I'm not them. That's how our minds work...I guess.

This past winter, my worldview widened considerably. While in Minnesota, I met two college students who were on the same delayed flight to Tokyo Narita airport (the very airport that was flooded with water from Friday's tsunami). They were from Japan. One was an American who had grown up at the U.S. military base in Okinawa, heading back to spend Christmas with her family, the other was a Japanese girl born and raised in Tokyo, returning from studying. When the incident occured on Friday, I was thinking of them. And also all the other people from Japan that we spent hours with when our flight was delayed for two days. The idea that someone I had seen or spoken with or smiled at is dead from this natural disaster was shocking to me for some reason. Not only that. How many (if any) have family members or friend unaccounted for? Were any of the people I saw headed to Tokyo from Sendai or one of the towns washed away? It wasn't just the people I met in Minnesota that made me feel so deeply about this, though. For going on two years I've been thinking and wanting to teach English or live in Asia when I graduate. Japan was one of the places I've been considering, so when I heard that an American girl who had been teaching there for 3 years was missing after the tsunami the thought occured that her and I are not so dissimilar. (Thankfully, she contacted her parents after 4 days of being unable to communicate--she's okay :) Also, when I was watching the news coverage in the aftermath, an American correspondent was being interviewed over the phone from Tokyo. It shook me to my core when I heard his voice quivering as he related the earthquake. Realizing how deeply it affected him (someone I don't even know!) was...strange. He and his friends were in the newsroom going about their day when the world fell apart. He said that Tokyo was the more fortunate of the cities hit and that people were mostly dealing with the psychological blow. How could they not be reeling from the shock?

There are thousands of people still unaccounted for in Japan. Thousands. And now they're also facing a nuclear disaster. Even though it's impossible to imagine the gravity of the situation, I dare you to try. Burst the "bubble" that separates you from the rest of the world. What really makes us so different?

Inspiration

It seems only appropriate to make my first post about one of the most important ingredients in constructing a story, poem, or any media of art.

If there's anything I've learned, it's that inspiration can come in any form and from anywhere. My most recent story idea came from a mystery artist from England named Banksy who appeared in an independent film and was sending his fans on a scavenger hunt all over L.A. in the days leading up to the Oscar award show. Stranger than fiction right?

Another source of inspiration can come from history. That's right, our very own history. I'm constantly getting whispers from a muse in the middle of my college history classes. The unexplained colony on Roanoke Island. Gladiatorial games in Ancient Rome. People are people no matter what era they're from and as always, react with powerful emotions and interesting drama.

I like to collect my ideas into a journal or clip out newspaper articles that I think are interesting and could provide a good plot or solid characters later on.

Sorry for such a short blog entry, more to come! I promise! :) Until then, keep writing!