Some Things Shouldn't Come That Small

A few days ago, I watched the movie Courageous with my family.

From here, I'll say beware - for spoilers will tread here. If you haven't seen the movie and want to, I wouldn't recommend reading any further. If you've already seen the movie or simply don't care, then onward we go!

As I sat, watching the events of a child's death unfold on the screen, we got to the funeral scene. The camera panned across the small casket. It hit me in that moment that caskets shouldn't come that small.

Some small things are cute. Small pastries, small stuffed animals, small animals, small kitchen playsets, small gloves, small hats, small computers. The list could go on and on and on. Those things are adorable. You wind up gawking at them saying, "Oh my gosh! It's so cute! I want one!"

Caskets, hospital beds, breathing apparatuses, canes, casts...these things should never have to be small enough to facilitate a child.

Y'know, I'm not a huge fan of kids. My sisters can attest to that. Originally I had hoped that being around my nephew and my niece for a few months would have helped me gain a new appreciation for kids. All it did for me was make me have that much greater of an aversion to them.

That doesn't mean that seeing kids suffer doesn't rip me in two.

Kids are supposed to run amuck, playing games and making up stories. They're supposed to be creating and building, always smiling and never without hope and joy. Yet in this broken world, we sometimes have to witness the sheer brokenness of humanity by seeing it play out in a child's life. It makes me want to cry sometimes when I see a kid that should have no ambitions, fighting for their life. How heart-breaking.

Crazy as it seems though, these kids seem to be so optimistic. You constantly hear about these brave little children struggling against the hardest things imaginable. Thank God for that great representation of hope. I can't heal them, but I can surely pray for them, and for those that watch over them.

Personally, I look forward to when all that pain is gone.

Currently Writing: Zero Point
Currently Listening to: "Mirror Mirror" by Jeff Williams feat. Casey Lee Williams

Cabin Fever

In the span of two days, I wound up getting an intense case of claustrophobia in regards to my house. I don't know why, exactly. Just that I wanted out. I craved an adventure and for some reason, I wished to do so alone. Coupled with that was this sudden urge to not sleep.

Sometimes I get this strange desire to pull an all nighter, work until morning, watch the sunrise while I have some coffee, ease into the day, and then just barrel on through with whatever else needs to get done. Normally, I ignore this. Because it's crazy. It's bizarre. Normal people don't do that.

Recently, I decided that "normal" never applied to me and that I simply don't care what other people think of me or what I do with my time. So, following that mantra, I decided to stay up all night. It wasn't until around 5:30 that I realized my mom would be getting up and would undoubtedly question why I was awake. Thankfully, she didn't press the issue and let my randomness be.

Now, I really shouldn't call it an all nighter. I did nap for about two hours. (Aside, I'm smelling toast. I hope my brother is making something, otherwise, insanity literally is only moments away.) Anyway, now that I'm almost to my regular bedtime, I sit back and look at the day. I was incredibly productive. I had eleven things I wanted to accomplish. One of them was wishful thinking (building a custom bookcase). The only other thing I didn't get done was vacuuming, and that's 'cause I only just finished excavating my floor about an hour ago.

You've gotta blow up a room before you can clean & organize it.

Strange how I can function so well with so little sleep. I imagine that when I wake up tomorrow (later today?), I'll feel it and curse myself. At the moment though, I'm incredibly grateful for the fact that for once, I followed a brash and instinctual decision. I did a lot of nonprofit stuff and a ton of agent narrowing-down between the hours of one and five-thirty. Around six I began to get myself ready to go watch the sunrise.

All in all. It was a good day. I encourage you to do something random and unusual today. You never know what'll happen until you try something new. Make every day a new adventure.

Currently Writing: Zero Point
Currently Listening to: "Red Like Roses" by Jeff Williams feat. Casey Lee Williams

Introvert, or Extrovert?

When I'm in group settings, I tend to prefer to sit back and listen to others, rather than talk about myself. I mesh well with people who like to talk, because I love to listen. The tricky thing is, I remember lots of little details about people. Later in conversations I'll purposefully pretend like I forgot something about someone, simply so they won't find it weird that I remember minute things. Like what someone's favorite drink is to get when they go out to eat or a pet peeve that they off-handedly mentioned once.

One of my coworkers once said he hated how the British say, "Let me get me drink." He finds it irritating and thinks it's grammatically incorrect. Another one of my coworkers believes steadfastly that a needle and thread will dictate how many kids you'll have. One of my other coworkers almost got kicked out of school for standing up against a teacher that ridiculed a student in the middle of class.

That's just my coworkers. I could probably point to everyone I know and tell you one random fact about each of them that they wouldn't expect me to remember. I guess I'm a little bizarre that way.

As I talked with a friend tonight, she began to explain extroverts and introverts to me. Not in the world's definition. Apparently our perception that extroverts are bubbly and people love to be around them is wrong. Extroverts are people that like being around others and can mesh well with large groups (more than three people), whereas introverts would be searching for a way to get out of that large group and would strive to break off into a smaller, closer group. I, apparently, am an extrovert. Because I love being in large groups and listening to everyone around me, but I don't ever feel like running away or thinking about how to get off into a smaller group. But I love one on one time with people too.

Maybe I'm walking a fine line...

On another note, I slept for nine hours last night/this morning. That's a good way to spend my first day off, right? Tomorrow's supposed to be sunny and warm(ish), so I'm doing a bunch of different things that'll total the day flying by. Maybe some archery?

Adventure well, brave warriors! I'm gonna go back to talking to my friend about what it means to be an extrovert.

No, I don't understand myself.

Currently Writing: Zero Point

Currently Listening to: Some song by Bob Marley. It goes like this: "Don't worry, about a thing, 'cause every little thing, is gonna be alright"

Three Day Weekend

That's like a mini-vacation for me. I haven't had three days off consecutively in like, a month and a half. And what'll I do with that time?

Apparently tomorrow I'm watching movies with a friend, Sunday I'm building a bookcase, and Monday I'm setting up a computer. I also anticipate a lot of cleaning and writing in between those points. And, if the weather permits, a good bit of archery.

Change is coming to the Staples I work at. Whether it'll be a good change or not has yet to be determined. Am I thankful for it? Honestly, I can't answer that. I suppose I should be, but a part of me also knows that at the moment, everything I'm shooting for is sort of hanging on this precipice. It might all teeter backwards and fall back to square one. Or, it'll tumble forward and roll on into whatever it might be - good, fantastic, whatever. I don't know.

Sometimes I imagine that my life is just a tape someone set on play and forgot to edit out the boring stuff. Though, I guess that's what life is mostly. Boring stuff. The time in between major points is what makes us who we are.

Then I guess I've got a lot of work to do. 'Cause what I do in the time in between isn't quite on par with what I want to be known as. Seeing as most of my time in between is spent with me either saying, "AHH! What's going on?!" or, me saying, "I don't really care. Let's just start wandering .Eventually I'll find a path, right?"

Neither road is actually the one I want to be remembered for. If I'm remembered at all, I'd prefer to be known as someone who, despite the circumstances, knew that faith was an important ingredient to everything, and that sometimes, the faith needed to be blind.

Knowing me though, I'll be remembered for flailing about wildly and accidentally winding up where someone else probably should have been. I think my life has been a series of happy accidents.

Thanks for that one God.

Currently Writing: Zero Point
Currently Listening to: "Idumea" by the Millikin University Choir

Never Have I Ever

Tonight I had an interesting conversation with a coworker. Although most days I have interesting/strange conversations with my coworkers. So I guess that isn't news.

Somehow, we got onto the topic of alcohol and how I've never been drunk. A look of bewilderment on my coworker's face, he says, "You never got drunk in all your time at college? How does that happen?" I told him that I imagine that if I played "Never Have I Ever", anyone I played with would find my life incredibly boring. There's a lot I haven't done. He just stared at me with this half-smile as if to say, "I don't believe you."

I guess this'll be a fun fact post. 'Cause there are lots of things I haven't done.

I've never been drunk. I don't know what weed smells like. I've never smoked a cigarette or cigar. I've never been to a party where there was underage drinking. I've never seen porn (although a lot of Hollywood stuff is pushing that limit). I've never stayed out all night. I've never gone over 85 in any car I've ever driven (my dad's Sky included). I've never heard a gun fired in real life. I've never been in a life-threatening situation brought on by another person (aka, assaulted). I've never threatened or thought of running away from home. I'm sure there are many more things I haven't done.

Here are some things I have done.

I stole once when I was a kid (I don't remember what, I just remember stuffing something into my pocket and continually looking around all nervous-like. I was probably like, six). I cheated on a quiz one time in elementary school. I lied about a few of my classes when I transferred to Houghton (classes I should have passed and, because of laziness, failed). I've looked people in the eye and told them I loved them when all I wanted to do was punch them square in the face. I've rubbed my financial stability in the face of people struggling to get by. I've lied to my family about so many things I've forgotten them all. I'm materialistic when it comes to technology (legit). I can be a hypocrite if I'm not careful. I have anger issues. And many, many more things.

I guess that what I'm trying to say is there's nothing wrong with being "sheltered". Yeah, my life is pretty dull. For now. Give me some time. I've still got a few more books to write and quite a few to get published. One day my life will be a little more epic. Until then, I'm just gonna be a twenty-something working in retail, trying to make a difference in the people that inhabit this world.

Happy adventuring everyone. Go make today a great one, regardless of whether it's within a "sheltered" sense or not. It's your adventure after all. Make it one worth telling.

Currently Writing: Zero Point
Currently Listening to: "All the Kings Horses" by Two Steps From Hell

P.S. - Today one of my coworkers climbed into an empty box and had a fellow coworker push him across the store. Just in case you ever think that retail is boring.

Valentine's Day

This is a "holiday" I never liked. Not because I've never had a valentine with whom to share the day, but because of the absurdity behind it. The fact that our society literally takes a day and highlights the importance of having a significant other doesn't make sense to me. Why is it so important? Sure, I wouldn't mind having someone to share my story with - and I theirs - but it doesn't define me.

When Valentine's day rolls around, I don't start scrambling, hoping that I'll come across my soul mate within the allotted time. In fact, the day would go completely unnoticed - if people wouldn't harp on it.

One of my co-workers said to me today, "You need a boyfriend. It'll make you happier."

I don't remember what I said. I just remember that I walked away and rolled my eyes. Yes, because my happiness is exactly proportional to whether or not I have someone in my life I call my boyfriend, I thought. I wanted to tell my co-worker that I was fine without a boyfriend, because I have a Heavenly Father that loves me regardless of the stupid things that I do.

I have yet to meet a guy (or girl, for that matter), that through it all, dating, engagement and marriage, to love every facet of his/her girl/boyfriend-fiance-wife/husband. Inevitably, all those little things you used to find cute turn into the biggest annoyances the longer you spend together. Even the happiest couples I know fight and disagree. Everyone always seems to think they'll saunter into marriage and it'll always be roses and poppy fields. That you just go frolicking through life, hand-in-hand, without a care in the world.

This day doesn't bother me because I find myself alone. It bothers me because we've turned what could have been a day to celebrate relationships and instead flipped it on its head. Valentine's day has become this thing to exemplify how if you're important, if you're special, then you've got someone to share Valentine's day with. It kind of makes me sad when I see beautiful girls say things like, "I'm so happy I finally have someone to share Valentine's day with!"

...So? No offense deary, but you've gotta learn to be okay with who you are and who God sees you as before you can learn to properly love another person. At least, learn to love them in the right way. But that's just me. Little ol' me. I've never been in a relationship and I don't know if I'll ever get married. So maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'm way off base. Something tells me I'm not though.

Thankfully, there are places like Chick-fil-A that spent the day handing out flowers to their female customers, telling them, "Happy Valentine's day ma'am." Do you realize how refreshing that was? For a large company to look at the world and say, "Y'know, every woman is beautiful, whether she's got a guy in her life or not. Let's celebrate that instead of emphasizing how you've gotta have someone, or you're no one."

Like I said though, I may be wrong. I may be a hypocrite and whenever I am in relationship, I'll be all gung-ho for Valentine's day. I'd be surprised if that were the case though. I'm not really a flower's & chocolate kind of girl. But who knows. Maybe that'll change. Maybe my cynical heart still has some hope.

Well, here's hoping you had a wonderful day - whether you celebrated Valentine's day or not. And guess what? You're beautiful. Or handsome, if you happen to be a guy and you're reading this. In which case, I congratulate you for trudging through the muck of my blog writing! I always kind of thought my writing didn't appeal to guys.

Happy adventuring.

Currently Writing: Zero Point
Currently Listening to: "Transformation" by the Cinematic Orchestra

Not My Strong Suit

I'm not so good at writing about myself.

I get hung up on the formality of it. Especially in the confines of something as important as a query letter. That's right, I'm working on a one-page document that I'll probably agonize over more than anything I've ever written. All 'cause this is my first impression. This is the only shot I get at these agents.

One page. Three paragraphs. That's all I've got to get this right. To snag the right agent's attention. Thank God I know people who are good at marketing, well, anything. I imagine that when I get an offer from a publishing house, I'm going to hire a few of my coworkers to be my publicists. Kid you not - I think some of them could sell anything to anyone.

So as I sit on my computer, going over and over my query while "Idumea" plays on repeat, I just wonder if it's worth it. Sure, I know whenever End Game hits the world and I market it properly, it's gonna get devoured. I know there's little out there like it. That's not me trying to be arrogant. The story God gave me is awesome. The world just doesn't know that yet.

In the past three weeks, two of my closest friends finished all five books of the End Game thread. They both offered resounding enthusiasm on how I chose to end the series. I can't even properly describe how great it is to have feedback from three very different people and to have them all come around and very honestly tell me what they did and didn't like. (An aside, but I do have awesome friends. They're so brutally honest with me that I can't help but trust them when they tell me things like, "I loved your books.")

Despite me literally trying to avoid writing the query (I just don't like how complicated this formula is! I always feel like a robot when I'm writing the third paragraph about myself), I've had nothing but encouragement to push forward. Three customers have asked me what I write and talked with me about what I do outside of work and two of my friends have attacked me - in a good way - about how they feel about my books.

I kind of have no choice.

I'll sleep on my query for tonight. I always see things better with fresh eyes. So tonight I'll continue to slowly chisel away at one of the histories and then tomorrow I'll hack at my query again. Then I'll go to work, talk nonprofit, then I'll go back to hacking at my query. Then I'll write up some website stuff, then I'll go to work, then I'll work some postcard design, then I'll attack my query, then I'll have a day off and apparently go to Asher's so my mom's life is complete.

Happy adventuring everyone!

Currently Writing: 1/8 of Zero Point
Currently Listening to: "Idumea" by the Millikin University Choir

One More Job

I work full-time hours at Staples. I'm not technically full time and don't reap the benefits of that, but I tend to work upwards of 35 hours a week. That's the job I get paid for. Then there's the writing. That's the job I try to do when I have time and energy after a long day and am attempting to fulfill at the moment.

Now I've signed up for a third job. It started as this epic conversation last week with a few coworkers while we were out to dinner. Somehow we got onto the topic of changing the world and being part of a group. The next day, one of my coworkers called me and started asking me about this nonprofit he's got in mind. Five days later we've bought the website, made the Facebook and LinkedIn pages, set up our emails and are beginning to figure out how much all of this will cost.

As I sit here attempting to collaborate and make a logo (which I'm really not that good at, by the way), I kind of want to kick myself. Why do I do these things? As if I didn't have enough time, right? The plus side is, this is forcing me to make time for my book stuff.

Take today for instance. I've got off work and put my car at the shop so its oil could be changed. That leaves me stuck at home with nothing more to do than work on my query letter and research agents. So far it's been an agonizing process and according to all the recommendations I'm finding from agents & other authors, I should work on perfecting my query for the next month. Rewrite, rewrite, rewrite. Over and over and over again.

So this all boils down to me figuring out my schedule and my dreams. Making them coexist together whether they like it or not. There is a rather nice piece to this puzzle, and that's the fact that I work with the two people that are heading up this nonprofit with me. Naturally that means that when we're at work, half of our time is spent talking about our ideas for getting this thing off the ground.

Now if only I could get this logo right...

Until we're off the ground, I'm not going to release the link or name of the nonprofit. Just know that it's out there and that we're for serious. Can't tell us 20-somethings to just wallow in our college debt. No sir. We're gonna change some lives if it kills us.

Apparently snow storm Nemo is coming my way. First Gandalf, then Khan. I've gotta say, these have got to be the best storm names ever. Of all time.

Happy adventuring everyone!

Currently [re]Writing: Genesis
Currently Listening to: "Hope Will Lead Us On" by Barlowgirl