It’s Good to Have Goals
Last week, I signed up for NaNoWriMo. For those of you not in the know, NaNoWriMo is an acronym for National Novel Writing Month. Throughout the month of November, aspiring writers all over the nation participate in the NaNoWriMo contest with the goal of writing 50,000 words by the end of the month. The contest focuses on quantity, not quality. If you meet the word count goal, you win.
Does the contest sound like a recipe for disaster? Perhaps it is, and maybe it was designed to be that way. Writing for the sake of writing and meeting a word count goal likely generates a lot of cruft. I imagine most (if not all) of the participants will produce reams of filler, but in the fluff, kernels of the storyline and glimpses of good writing will shine. At least that is the hope!
Everything I read says that writing well takes practice and discipline. Sitting around and dreaming about being a writer someday does not get you anywhere. Thinking you’ll write when x, y, or z is settled delays ever starting.
I am a prime example of a person who dreamed of writing and let everything else get in the way. My time-consuming job happened to be my largest obstacle and my biggest excuse. I did not have to take a career break to write, but I did, and now I have no excuses. Every time I think about being lazy, I remind myself that I shouldn’t squander the opportunity to write. Whether I bang out a quick blog post or spend a couple of hours writing down my thoughts or ideas, I need to write daily and make my writing practice as natural as breathing.
Signing up for the contest forces me to rise to the challenge of writing 50,000 words in a month. The contest encourages the discipline of a consistent writing habit (daily, weekdays, evenings, weekends, whatever works). Anyone can write, but not everyone wants to find the time to write. I know people who have participated in NaNoWriMo and won year after year while working a full-time job and raising a family. This is doable. Nothing stands in my way of succeeding except me.
I harbor no illusions about the quality of the work I’ll produce for the contest. Though I will aim for a coherent story, proper sentence structure, and interesting characters, I know this will be a very rough first draft at best. There will be days when I’ll be phoning it in and days when I’m on fire. At this point, I cannot predict which will be more prolific, but I can guarantee that the word count will be prolific. After all, the word count is the goal, and I like goals.
To encourage success, I have mapped out my writing days for November and figured out the word count goal for each day. With friends and family visiting during and after Thanksgiving, I have blocked off those days as non-writing days, so technically I will be finishing by November 25th. On the eve of Thanksgiving, I hope to submit my encrypted manuscript and kick back with a glass (or bottle) of wine.
May the writing begin…
‘Tis the Season
Crunching across the yard that I do not rake reminds me of all that I love about this time of year. Yes, yes, yes, I love all the stereotypical things about fall: pumpkin spice everything, fall colors, fall clothes, and the list goes on and on and on. Still, what I love most about fall (and in particular, what I love most about Halloween) is horror movies!
Now, I know horror movies can be enjoyed any time of year, but I always associate horror movie countdowns and marathons with Halloween. In general, horror movies engender strong opinions. Folks either hate them or love them. I have found a few people who can take them or leave them, but those folks are rare and non-committal (and they probably do have strong opinions but will not voice them, which is weak). I have always been in the horror-movie-loving camp.
As someone who has a good memory and latches onto details, I find horror movies leave their impression on me…for weeks! I guess my earliest “horror” movie was Ghost Busters. The ghost in the library scene haunted me and not just that library! Despite the scary thoughts, I still wanted more.
By middle school, I started watching real horror movies. Poltergeist on VHS offered some thrills, and I still cannot believe that movie was PG-rated. The only part in that movie that got under my skin (pun intended!) was when the guy peeled his face off in the bathroom. Now, that’s exfoliation! That scene gave me the willies, and I would think about it while trying to fall asleep, which I do not recommend. Oh, and possessed toys are bad. Stay away from possessed toys!
Over the years, I’ve indulged in ghost stories, slasher tales, demon exorcisms, monster invasions, zombie holocausts, and torture porn. Ghost stories still win out as my all-time favorite type of horror movie with stories such as The Others, The Changeling, The Sixth Sense, The Shining, The Amityville Horror, The Conjuring, The Ring, and yes, Poltergeist. Torture porn like Saw and Wolf Creek rank at the bottom of my list. Watching people being torn limb from limb or experiencing psychological trauma at the hands of a psycho fails to appeal to my desire for mystery and supernatural influence (plus, that stuff could really happen).
Of the horror movies I have watched in my adult life, one stands out as the master of terror: The Ring. After viewing The Ring (American version), I slept with the lights on for weeks. Every time I looked toward my bedroom door, which I always kept open, I expected to see Samara twitch-walking into my room. The mere thought of the videotape content from that movie sent chills up my spine. Something about the techniques of sound and color in that film permeated my waking and sleeping thoughts. I watched the Japanese original, Ringu, but it didn’t feel as scary. No horror movie prior to The Ring had left such an impression, and so far, no horror movies since then have had the same effect. I don’t know if it was just the right moment in time for me or if others felt that way about the film. I did learn one lesson from the movie: nothing good comes out of a well. If you are in a creepy place and see a well, run!
Like The Ring, most horror movies do have good lessons. These are just a few:
- The Conjuring and The Amityville Horror: If you hear something in the basement, don’t go in the basement.
- The Exorcist, The Conjuring, The Exorcism of Emily Rose, etc.: If someone acts possessed, they probably are.
- The Shining: If you turn the corner in a hotel hallway and see creepy twin girls, run!
- Poltergeist: If your home is built on a Native American burial ground, move!
- The Conjuring and Poltergeist: If toys move or talk on their own, run!
- The Changeling and The Shining: If someone rolls a ball to you, run!
- The Others: If something feels creepy, it is.
- The Sixth Sense: If you see dead people, you’ve got trouble.
- Hellraiser: If you get a magic box that conjures really good stuff or really evil stuff, just leave it alone!
- Halloween: If you see a dude in a William Shatner mask, run…oh, and don’t have sex because he’ll kill you.
- The Blair Witch Project: Don’t hang out in the woods!
I love carving Jack-O’-Lanterns, and I refuse to use patterns or special tools. It’s just me, a pumpkin, and kitchen knives.Through the terror and thrill of horror films, we understand just a little bit more about ourselves. We wonder how we’d deal with such terrifying circumstances. We relive scary scenes in our minds. We remember the people who watched the films with us and when whether we were huddled on the floor during a slumber party, sitting in a dark theater, or relaxing on the couch. We make the memories we come to associate with certain times of year and certain phases of our lives. No other genre of film has made such an impression on me. I doubt I am the only person who feels this way.
Enjoy the horror movie (Halloween) season!
Career Break: Two Weeks Later
Two weeks ago, on October 1st, I started my first-ever career break. The past two weeks have been all over the place for me emotionally. I am overjoyed about having freedom and yet terrified about the lack of definition for when this break will end. The security freak in me worries about money, but I keep reassuring myself that I planned this, that I am capable of finding new work, and that this is needed. Why is it so difficult to do something good for yourself?
As for my goals for this break, I’m doing fairly well. I have written and posted more blog entries than I have in years. I managed to write several thousand words in freestyle writing, and I enjoyed it. I walked in the cemetery most days during the traditional work week. The writing and walking go a long way toward keeping my spirits high and fulfilling my creative needs.
On the flip side, I slipped in my sleep schedule, gravitating toward my night owl ways. Though I prefer that sleep schedule, I do think I should make more of an effort to mirror my husband’s schedule. Setting an alarm for a noon lunch date feels a little much. I have caught myself mindlessly surfing the Internet and, in particular, Facebook. I catch myself ruminating on the what-ifs of my next career move rather than living in the moment and enjoying this gift of time.
My anxiety levels are decreasing daily. In my job, I was stretched thin under constant demands for my attention. Between emails, phone calls, meetings, co-workers, and process and project management, someone or something always needed my feedback or direction. My thoughts fragmented into little bites. That’s a pretty standard work life for a lot of (maybe most) people. Everyone told me I should write in the evenings or on the weekend, but at the end of the days, I couldn’t string together coherent thoughts, and I had difficulty coming down from the demands of the day. As an introvert, I demand more downtime than most, and I just wasn’t able to flip the switch without rest.
I need to learn to let go and relax during this career break.I never expected the lack of demands on my time to feed into my insecurities. Without being pulled in all directions, I cling to anything I can as an anchor to say that I am valid and important. During the first full week, I hit the writing aspect of this journey hard. I wanted to prove something. Last week, I was more relaxed about it, even taking a day to do nothing, but guilt lingers. I feel self-indulgent when I am aiming for self-enrichment. This break is supposed to be a reset. I need to give into that.
First Frost: A Secret Garden & Bugs from Hell
Last year, my Mom and I stashed caladiums and geraniums in my cellar for the winter. Unfortunately, we remembered them fairly late in spring, and despite lots of water, they didn’t seem to resurrect. We did notice some eyes (sounds gross) in the caladium corms, but the growing season was so far along that it didn’t seem to be worth the effort to foster them. We tossed the caladiums in a wooded tract of land behind a fence in an area where we have taken soil grafts for use elsewhere in our yards and tossed organic matter from the fish pond. The previous owners of home purchased that tract of land as a way to protect their privacy behind their home, so it has two fence rows full of trees with an entrance onto the road and two entrances into my side yard and back field. I always thought that area of my yard yearned to be a secret garden, but I had no idea how much until a few weeks later when my Dad informed me that the caladiums had flourished.
My secret caladium garden!The caladiums remained a special attraction in that tucked away nook. I showed guests the secret, wild, little garden. It reminded me of a woodland cluster of wildflowers, except caladiums are tropical and definitely would never crop up in this area as a wildflower. Still they were beautiful all summer long in their special shady corner.
Meteorologists have warned that this weekend could be a killing frost. One of the perks about my career break is that I have the time and daylight hours to take action. Granted, I could have remembered the caladiums on a weekend during my working life, but I have a tendency to forget things that I should do with the changing seasons. This morning, well near noon, I went out and dug up the caladiums in the wooded tract and in flower pots at my back door and near my fish pond.
I prepared the caladiums for winter.After digging the caladiums, I tossed them in paper bags and took them to the cellar. The corms will go dormant in the darkness and coolness of the cellar, but they won’t freeze. I also tossed two hanging plants containing caladium corms in the cellar. I hope they bring us more joy next spring and summer. I won’t give up so easily on underdeveloped corms, and I just might plant that secret garden again.
My other pre-frost activity consisted of cutting back peonies. I’m only two months behind on that one! About ten white peonies line the right side of my driveway, and they make a beautiful show every spring. Of course, at this time of year, they’re just green clumps with various trees trying to grow in the middle of them. Volunteer trees sprout up all over my yard and prove to be a constant battle. For whatever reason, they seem to love the peonies.
About halfway through cutting back peonies, I encountered a yellow jacket nest. At first I did not know it was a nest. I just knew that one pressed itself into the opening of my gardening glove and stung me on my wrist. The stinger and venom laid on top of my skin right next to an obvious puncture wound. I ran into the house and poured vinegar on it. The area swelled but didn’t hurt very badly. Now a few hours later, the area remains red, and the swelling has subsided greatly.
I question whether or not it was a yellow jacket. It certainly appeared to be one, but it was smaller. I tried to take a picture of the nest with hundreds of yellow jackets (or small bees) flying around, but they were moving so quickly that they didn’t register in the photo. In fact, looking at the photo made me question whether or not they were my imagination. My wrist tells me they are real. I’m really lucky more did not sting me. I had no idea there were so many until I returned to the scene of the crime.
Though you cannot see the hundreds of yellow jackets flying around, I assure you that this is the portal to hell!A meme floating around on Facebook a few weeks ago commented on the fate of insects this time of year. The meme mentions wonderful things about fall like pumpkin spice lattes, football, fire pits, sweaters, etc. The punchline is that “bugs return to hell where the belong.” I have to admit that I am ready for those bees/yellow jackets/whatever to return to hell where they belong. They can take the mosquito that bit me last weekend along with them. I’m over it!
Welcome Jack Frost! Feel free to fly your Rankin & Bass self through my yard and whistle your frosty magic all over everything. Thank you for the relief you bring from mowing, biting/stinging bugs, and other yard nuisances. Hey yellow jackets, your nest is toast!
Missing: Goldfish (Sarasas, Comets, and Shubunkins)
In the spring of 2014, I made the startling discovery that all the goldfish in my outdoor fish pond were gone. I dredged the pond for bodies, but I did not find any. I even had the pond drained and cleaned, and we didn’t find one remnant of a goldish. Nothing. We restocked the pond that summer, and the fish did fine through the fall, winter, spring, and summer. Now just within the last few weeks, it has happened again. All my goldfish are gone!
The black walnut trees dominate my yard. I have several near the fish pond, and each fall walnuts plop into the pond. Though I know that the juglone in the walnut is toxic, and it can kill fish, I cannot explain why my goldfish survived and thrived for years even under the constant threat of the black walnut trees. Untold numbers of walnuts would fall into the pond every fall, and yet the fish would live and grow. The first batch of goldfish that went went missing had been there for ages (well over five years), so I couldn’t imagine it was the black walnuts. Plus, there were no bodies. It’s not like juglone is hydrochloric acid. This is not some horror movie where the murderer dissolves the bodies.
Four frogs inhabited the pond, and now only one survives. We never did figure out what types of frogs they were. Each one could fit in the palm of your hand, so they weren’t very large. They certainly weren’t large enough to eat all the fish (around 30 in total), and the last one left wasn’t large enough to have devoured everything including fellow frogs. I’m thinking the missing frogs were victims as well.
I have noticed two blue herons flying over the house from time to time. Heron usually prefer to hang out by themselves, but for whatever reason, this pair seem to enjoy each other’s company. Though I have never seen heron by the fish pond, I suppose they could have dropped by for an afternoon snack. The thought of two heron dining out at my local fish pond infuriates me. Bully birds! They have a whole creek full of fish nearby. Still, I have heard stories that a heron emptied a pond a few streets away in the spring of 2014, when my first fish disappearance occurred, so I’m thinking they are the likely culprits.
Other possibilities include local cats and raccoons, but in both of those cases, I would think the fish could swim away. The deep end of the fish pond is around five feet deep. No cat or raccoon I’ve ever seen could reach down into a pond so deeply.
This is the scene of the crime. The specks of red in the pond masquerade as goldfish bodies, but they are leaves. All my goldfish are gone without a trace!My heart feels heavy knowing that my goldfish are gone. I guess I won’t have to worry about them this winter if it gets incredibly cold. I won’t need to go out and poke holes in the ice. In the spring, I will begin again, but this time I’m putting up a trail camera. I want to know who’s visiting that pond when I’m not looking. The next time my fish disappear (and I’m sure they will) I want to be able to identify the thief!