Hi all! As you may know, I am now back at school! I thought you might like a quick look at what classes I’m taking and such. So here’s a quick overview of what my life will look life for the next three months. I’m taking five classes, most of them writing.
I’m taking a Freelance Writing class that I’m really excited about. We’re going to be spending a lot of time writing and editing pieces we’ve worked on. One of our assignments is to write at least 750 words daily. It doesn’t matter what we write, as long as we do. I’ve been trying to get into the habit of writing daily, so this is really quite perfect. We’re going to work in all types of writing, from blog to fiction, short stories to devotionals. I’m really looking forward to widening my area of experience.
I’m also taking a class called Writing Online, but my professor said it’s more like a literary citizenship class. We’re essentially going to be building our platforms, or our online presence. We’ll be working with our social media sites and blogs, so expect to see some changes here in the next few months!
Most writers choose other literature classes, but I’m taking Performing Literature. In that class, we are focusing on analyzing text and presenting it orally, using both voice and body to convey the meaning. I think this will be invaluable to me as a writer, to look at how words are conveyed and interpreted.
One of the classes I’m not quite so excited about is Layout and Design. It focuses on a computer program called InDesign. We will be designed various things throughout the semester, starting with our own resumes. While incredibly useful, I have a tendency to struggle with things related to technology, so we’ll see how well this class goes.
I’m taking another computer class as well, a computer science course. I haven’t actually had the class yet, so I don’t know exactly what to expect. It’s a general education course, so I imagine it won’t be too overwhelming.
That about sums up my classes. Other than that, I have a job that keeps me occupied, as well as extracurricular activities with my wing and the other people in my major. I think I’m going to enjoy the next few months.
Until next time, fellow wonderers!
Daily Habits
Whenever I make a daily To-Do list, there is always one item I include. Regardless of the day of the week, the homework load, or how tired I am, I remind myself I need to get it done. And it is never done. I put in on my list day after day, check it off, and put it on again the next time I make a list.
Writing.
Well, duh, you’re probably thinking. You’re a writer. Today I want to emphasize a piece of advice I have heard from almost every author I’ve heard give advice.
Write. Every day. Even if you don’t want to. Even if you don’t know what to write about.
Now, I won’t get into the debate of whether writer’s block really exists, but I will repeat what I’ve heard countless times. Writers improve their craft by practicing it. The only way to improve is to write consistently. It doesn’t have to be the next great novel, or even something you plan to publish. Simply getting into the habit of writing often will help you produce more, publishable material.
It is so hard to commit to writing every day. I struggle with it. But I’m working hard to make it a habit. I journal, I write stories, I work on my book, I write devotionals, I blog, and I free-write. Variety helps new ideas flow.
So for you aspiring writers out there, keep going. Get your thoughts on paper; don’t wait for them to ‘fully form’. That won’t ever really happen unless you start writing. So get to it!
Until next time, fellow wonderers!
Sorry!
Due to my high procrastination skills, I am packing like a crazy person and haven’t thought about posting here. So I’m going to skip this week.
Growing Up is Hard
This is a belated weekend post. I was busy all weekend, which actually inspired today’s topic. On Saturday I attended a wedding of two friends from high school. Sunday I helped someone move from home. This week I’m packing up to go back to college. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about growing up. And I’ve come to a conclusion.
Growing up isn’t the nice, slow process people lead you to believe. It sneaks up on you and then beats you over the head with responsibility.
I know that sounds bitter. But watching people I’ve known for most or all of my life go out and get married or move away made me realize that I am an adult. I’m nearly 21, which is considered an adult by most standards. But I don’t feel like an adult. I like being at home, where my parents take care of me. I like being at school, where I just need to attend classes and do school work, not worry about bills (aside from tuition) or other adult things. Thinking about the future is just weird.
I don’t know when people begin to feel like adults, or if they really ever feel comfortable with so much responsibility. But it’s something that everyone seems to struggle with at some point or other.
I know this is kind of depressing, but it’s what’s on my mind. What’s your best advice for ‘growing up’?
Until next time fellow wonderers!
Babysitting Craft!
I’ve spent the last two days babysitting, and we made a book!!
The Importance of Being Published
As I read the title I just wrote, I realize how pretentious it sounds, but it’s true! Just bear with me while I explain.
As you may know, I was at a writer’s conference earlier this summer. One of the most important things I learned was that editors and agents won’t consider working with authors who have never been published before.
Before you start saying, “But that doesn’t make sense! How can you be published for the first time then?”, let me clarify. Anything you write and have published counts, not just books. That’s why it’s so important to expand your writing beyond the next great novel you’re working on. Start with simple things, like devotionals or book reviews. Those are great ways to hone your writing, as you must convey a lot of information with few words.
Another way to get bylines is to enter short stories or other pieces to contests. I have yet to do this myself, but I am working on a short story to send in to a competition. I know it’s hard to put something out there to be compared to others and judged, but it’s well worth the effort.
I encourage you to branch out and try writing in different areas than you are comfortable in. Write a news article, or a poem, or in a different genre. It can be fun and you might even find a niche even more suited to you as a writer.
Until next time, fellow wonderers!
An Urgent Need for Prayer
I have a request for you readers. I don’t usually get political, mostly because I don’t know much about it, but there’s something in the news recently that has been rubbing me the wrong way. A lot of people have been talking about the Americans infected with Ebola and there’s even been some controversy about their return to the country. What bothers me about this whole thing is that I almost never hear anything about the country being affected by this terrible disease.
Liberia-one of the poorest countries in the world. The location of the biggest outbreak of Ebola in the history of the virus. The country I spent time in just over a year ago.
I’ll admit it. If I didn’t have such a personal connection to Liberia, I’d likely not care, or even notice, the lack of coverage. But I do. The following is an email sent out this weekend from the missionary couple I visited. They are currently in the States, but hope to return.
“Greetings To All
We are begging you all to please, please lift up our friends in Liberia in deep, earnest and the Spirit of intercession, prayer.
First we still know of people who are trying to return to the USA, please pray that they may travel in safety.
Second, we received news of another friend who has lost a family member from Ebola, please pray for protection for the rest of the family.
As we shared with many of you yesterday, our fears of the consequences of the Liberian government making the choice to close the borders in a country who imports 90% of their food, and this is the rainy season, is unfortunately a reality. What food is available has gone sky high in price. Businesses are closed and thus employment has ceased. The mission has a few staff members who are unaccounted for, we pray that they are safe.
We understand that God knows what is happening and what is at stake. As much as our hearts ache for the fact that we left Liberia just over one week ago with a ticket that was purchased last year with this date, we are confused and torn. We are resigned to the potential that when we are allowed to return to Liberia (tentative September 9th) we may be going back to nothing. We pray we have a team left there and our dogs protect them from any violence.
Please, please call out to our Father on behalf of a country that is very fragile in the best of times and this is now the worst. Pray for peace, for calm, for food to reach those in need and pray for protection.
In the arms of Jesus –
Trav and Gina”
This country has been ravaged by war, and now disease. All I ask is that you spare a minute or two to lift up these people and their country in prayer. This is quickly turning into a crisis. You can easily find more information by searching for “Ebola in Liberia”.
Please share this with as many people as possible. The more who know, the more can pray.
Until next time, fellow prayer warriors.
Tattoos and Ponderings
I was recently talking to a close friend about a tattoo she’s thinking about getting when she asked me if I had ever thought about getting a tattoo. I said no, but it made me think. If I did get a tattoo, what would it be? What words or phrases mean enough to me that I would consider getting them permanently etched into my skin? And before you ask, Mom, this is all hypothetical. I’m not actually thinking about getting a tattoo.
I actually have a few friends with tattoos. One of my favorites is my old roommate, who had the words Leva Livet tattooed on her wrist. It’s Swedish for Live the Life. The friend who is getting a tattoo is probably going to get her life verse. So I started thinking about what words are the most meaningful to me and I kept landing on two.
Proclaim: I am a writer and I want to always remember that my job is first and foremost to proclaim God’s goodness. That extends beyond writing to every aspect of my life. I am meant to be a living, breathing billboard for God every day of my life.
Wonder: I love reading. Discovering new worlds, exploring complex plots. Sometimes, I think of myself as Lucy discovering Narnia for the first time. I love that sense of awe you get when a good book, or any incredible experience, draws you in completely. And I never want to lose that child-like sense of wonder. I think it’s one of the greatest gifts we humans have; the ability to discover and experience.
That’s why I’ve finally settled on a way to close out my blog posts. Because I want to encourage all of you to keep on looking for new experiences, new adventures. Also, it’s less permanent than a tattoo. Well, less permanent on me.
Until next time, fellow wonderers!
For My Grandma
I love my grandparents. And my grandma has been lovingly asking for a sample of my writing for quite some time. So I decided the easiest way to share would be here. That way the rest of you can see something creative I’ve written. This is a short story I wrote for a class earlier this year. Enjoy!
*****
To Have Loved and Lost
Someone was using my chest as a punching bag.
It seemed crazy, but as far as I could tell, it was the only thing that made the slightest bit of sense. I was being hit in the same spot, with the same force, at a steady rate. There was a short pause and the pounding started again. When I figured out who was doing this to me, I was going to . . .well, I like to think that I’d give as good as I was getting, but to be honest, I’d likely yell a bit and break down in tears. Again, the thudding stopped for a few seconds and resumed.
What on Earth is happening to me? I thought frantically. This time when the thumping stopped, I felt something pinch my nose and pressure on my face. Oh, I realized, someone is giving me CPR. You know, that makes a lot more sense than magically being turned into a. . . OH MY GOD!!! Why is someone giving me CPR?! What happened? I started to panic, but couldn’t. After all, when a person panics, her heart races and she starts hyperventilating. I was obviously unable to do either of those things.
Okay, focus Janet. What is the last thing you remember doing? I thought back. Today was Friday. At least, I hoped it was still Friday. I had gone home after work and called my best friend, Kelly. We were both excited about something. What was it? We had recently been on a shopping trip and she was telling me to wear the new blue dress because Scott would love it. That was it! I had finally agreed to go out with Scott earlier this week and the date was for Friday night. Oh, I hope I didn’t collapse in front of Scott. I remember Scott picking me up and driving me to. . . a local bar. His brother’s band was playing. As the memories grew clearer, I felt my heart begin to beat faintly and a wisp of air tickled my lungs into breathing on their own. I began to feel the pain of someone pushing on my chest repeatedly. My eyes opened fractionally and I saw Scott’s face hovering over me. Then I passed out.
When I woke up again, I was in the hospital room. I looked around at the familiar, sterile surroundings. I turned my head to look out the window and was slightly comforted by the sight of the river.
“At least they got the outfit right,” I murmured, smiling at the neon green hospital gown. Bright colors helped me stay optimistic.
“Janet?” a voice asked. “Are you awake?”
I turned away from the window to the seat on my left. I wasn’t used to seeing anyone in it, but today it was occupied, although only barely. Scott was practically falling out of the chair as he leaned forward in concern. I sighed. I really didn’t want to worry about him. I was saved from explanations by the arrival of the doctor.
“Hello, Janet. I’m glad to see you awake,” he said.
“This is Dr. Gregson, Janet,” Scott said. I didn’t bother to tell him that I knew Dr. Gregson very well. Dr. Gregson looked at me and I shook her head in response to his silent question.
Dr. Gregson turned to Scott. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave for a few minutes, Scott. I have a few things to discuss with Janet. You can wait right outside the room if you’d like.” Scott nodded, but left rather reluctantly. I gave him a reassuring smile.
“I’m happy you have a boyfriend, Janet, but why haven’t you told him about your heart?” Dr. Gregson said sternly. I knew he meant well.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I explained. “Not really. Tonight was our first date. At least, Friday was. What day is it?”
“It’s Sunday morning. You’ve been through quite a bit.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“Your heart gave out. I think the medication has stopped working. Scott gave you CPR until help arrived, which saved your life. However, it may have further damaged your heart. We won’t know for sure until we run some more tests. Serena is on duty right now; let her know if you need anything, okay?”
I nodded distractedly as he left. Scott came back in. “What’s the verdict?” he asked lightly.
“My heart gave out,” I said frankly. It was time to be completely honest with him. “Scott, there’s a reason I kept turning you down for all those months when you asked me out. I have a heart condition. One of the valves in my heart doesn’t work properly; it never has. I’ve spent a lot of time in this hospital room over the years. I’ve had multiple heart surgeries. Dr. Gregson thinks that my medicine has stopped working. I don’t know what will happen next; there may be some new experimental drug to try or he may want to do more surgery. Or there might be nothing he can do. Scott, I’m going to be in the hospital for a while. You don’t need to feel responsible for me. You can go home.”
“But if I hadn’t taken you out to that bar-“ he started.
“Then I would have been home alone when it happened,” I interrupted. “And I would have died.”
Scott sighed. “I don’t feel responsible, or obligated, or anything like that, but I want you to know that I will come to visit you as often as I can. I care about you Janet, and I want to help you beat this thing.”
I didn’t disagree, as I figured after a few days he would tire of visiting and stop coming. I was wrong. Three weeks later, Scott was still coming to see me almost every day. He entertained me with stories of his childhood and family. I absorbed them like water. I grew up alone; earing about his family made me feel like I was a part of it. The time passed with some minor improvements in my health, but Dr. Gregson began to smile less when he came to see me.
“Unless a miracle happens, Janet, I don’t think you’ll leave the hospital again,” he said sadly one day. I nodded. I had expected as much, but that didn’t make it any easier to hear. That night was a rough one. I had long ago resigned myself to an early death. I was an orphan. I was leaving no one behind. Now I had something I wanted to live for. I was in love with Scott. And I was sure he felt the same way about me.
“How did you sleep?” Tina, another nurse, asked the next morning.
“Not well,” I said. “I was Jacob last night, wrestling with God.”
“I thought he wrestled an angel,” Tina said as she checked the various monitors. “What were you wrestling with, dear?”
“I don’t want to die, Tina. I thought I was ready, but I’m not. I want to live for a long time. I want to get married and have a family, to see the world, to be happy and sad. I just want to be.” I started crying. Tina sat on the bed next to me and gathered me into a hug. She rubbed my back gently, not saying anything. There was nothing to say. We both knew I was dying. By that afternoon, I had accepted it. Scott could tell something was different as soon as he walked in.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Scott, I don’t think you should visit me anymore,” I said gently. I didn’t want to put him through more heartache. I should have made him stop coming long ago, but I enjoyed his visits so much, I selfishly took as many as I could have.
“Why?” he asked. “Has something happened? Is it too stressful for you?”
“No, it’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“I’m not going to leave this hospital again, Scott. You have a life; go live it.”
Scott turned to stand by the window, his back to me. I tried not to cry again.
“’It is better to have loved and lost. . . .’” The words were so soft, I almost missed them.
“What?”
“I won’t let you die alone.”
“Scott, please-“
“Janet, I love you. I know you don’t want me to, but I do. Please, let me spend time with you while I can.”
“Okay,” I whispered, tears in my eyes. He sat on the bed next to me and wrapped his arms around me. I laid my head on his chest, listening to his strong heartbeat, so unlike mine. I felt my eyes drifting shut. There was nothing I could do to stop them. I knew that it wasn’t sleep coming over me. I looked up at Scott for the last time.
“I love you too.” Then, darkness.
*****
Until next time, fellow wonderers!
Let Gravity Go
I can’t guarantee how coherent this post will be, but there have been a few thoughts floating around in my head the past few days. Mostly, I’ve been thinking about the striking similarities between the songs “Let It Go” and “Defying Gravity”. This was sparked by recently listening to the Frozen soundtrack and soon after hearing my sister and her friend singing “Defying Gravity”.
Both songs are originally sung by the same person, the incredible Idina Menzel. They are moments of empowerment for her characters, Elsa and Elphaba. The two have incredible magical gifts that they have been struggling to understand. They have decided to embrace the part of themselves that they have been denying. That’s when the songs become very different.
“Let It Go” is Elsa breaking off from society. She has decided that she can no longer conceal her powers and that her only option is to isolate herself so she doesn’t hurt anyone. A noble idea, but it’s always rubbed me the wrong way that she immediately assumes that in order to be herself, she can’t be around others. Though, in her defense, she did accidentally hurt her sister as a child with her powers.
Elphaba, on the other hand, defies the world as well as gravity. She is tired of people pushing and shaping her into what they want and decides to pursue her own happiness, even if it means the disapproval of others. Granted, she does go a little overboard, daring anyone to try to stop her and stating that no one could. But she doesn’t care what anyone thinks anymore.
Personally, I’d like to be like Elphaba, but if I had to be honest, I’m probably more like Elsa. What about you?
Until next time, fellow wonderers!
Kate G. Jameson 