Tag Archives: book

Time to Write Your Own Reality Check, Dear Storyteller.

13 Feb

Following someone else “Writing-Routine” isn’t going to magically fill the gaps in the story or book you’re writing.

Your experiences is what color your novel, and there’s a guarantee that no one in the world will understand your story better than you.

The answers to your problems, why it might seem unbearable to write because your writer’s block is so horrible, is in yourself.

You know what you’re going through.

If you’re anything like me, you’re great at giving other people advice. Your passion seems to be catching, and you have the habit of accidentally inspiring friends to take action while you’re talking of your own dreams. You seem to be able to inspire them, that it seems they are ruthlessly pursuing their passions. You seem to be able to talk down their dreams, to earth, to the possible plane.

You start to wonder, if you’re able to inspire people so well, to solve their own problems of self-esteem, or their “can’t-do-attitudes” why the hell are you so listless? Why are you so little motivated to move the mountains required to conquer your own dreams?

It’s you.

It’s your problem. Maybe it’s a fear of success, maybe it’s the fear or rejection, maybe it’s not fear at all, but your own complacency of failure. Instead of psychoanalyzing the people around you, seeing into their souls to see their problems… maybe it’s time for a little self-reflection.

After all, you’re the only person in the world who you can be sure is actually being honest with you, which makes great character fodder.

Look to yourself, Find out your fears, your creative blocks, and what you believe you can actually achieve and move from there.

As a writer, as a creator of worlds, you literally can shape mountains if you so please, so why in the hell are you not writing? Why in the hell can’t you finish that book? Why in the hell are you worrying so much about what happens after the book is completed rather than writing the book.

You’re a dreamer, all good storytellers are… I’m not saying deny your nature. Harvest it. If you can dream of the rewards of being an wonderfully illustrious writer… you can certainly dream up a book, with conflict, character motivation, and either a resolution or new beginning for an end.

You became, or decided you were a writer for a reason.

Maybe it was because you always enjoyed reading or being told stories as a little kid… maybe you found the nature of self-reflection calming. Maybe you wrote because you had to. It was a way to escape your little reality, and now you want to share it with the world.

Whatever your original reason was, you’ve certainly forgotten it. If you’re still looking at “successful” writers to solve your problems.

Figure it out, the you that you were, is most certainly apart of the you that you are now. The you that is having problems finding the passion, most certainly can take a page out of the book of the former you that wrote for hours, tirelessly.

Introduce the Passionate You, and the slightly-bitter-having-problems-finding-that-fire You, and let them affect each other. Let the one with their boots planted firm into the ground, reach and connect with the one in the clouds, and together allow them to make your story, the reason why you started writing, the story that you have been born to tell, rain down upon the world.

It’s that simple.

You’ve lost passion, right? Find it. You’re lost in your own story? Give yourself directions. You’re having problems with ending your story? End it, all good things come to an end, and I guarantee, that your story that’s changed you over the course of writing is good enough. Some things aren’t meant to be resolved and that’s the nature of the beast. Put a bandaid over it, and carry on.

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Back from the dead and better for it!

4 Aug

So the past few days have been horrendously stressful compared to what was before.

There’s a really good reason. I hadn’t backed up my novel on my computer since the 13,000 word mark and the computer crashed. (which has happened to me before… the only difference being… I was only like 3,000 words into it. So I really knew to back it up…. but I didn’t it).

To be frank, I was depressed…. all those 8 months of work… when I felt like I wasn’t just wasting my life was gone. Which actually meant I did waste all that time. My Dad felt really bad about… mostly I think because I came into his room tears streaming down my face and asked him where the set-up disk was… hoping I could boot safe mode from disk.

We’ve been having an effing-crazy virus that would pop up every 20 minutes and say that we had a virus and that we needed to take care of that… I’ve found random programs that have weeded their way into our system and hunted down every single one of them and rid ourselves of them. I couldn’t find this one… my dad believes it was in the browsing history… that my younger sister didn’t even know you were supposed to clear out…

Surprisingly enough, our computer didn’t die because of viruses…. it died because the harddrive was full… and couldn’t run because of it. The harddrive was full because my family has recently started using hulu a lot. Hulu saves the entire movie to your harddrive somewhere…. my little sister had been watching the O.C. for a couple days then… I think she was on the second season when it happened… we only have a 40 GB harddrive in the laptop… which is pretty good considering that it’s like 10 years old. I was never worried about it overfilling mostly because our main computer was a 20 GB for a couple years and we had never filled it.

But anyways… the sucker would not even load up safe mode…. and I admit I cried at the lost of basically my whole novel and the 8 months wasted.

My dad, who used to fix computers as a living started in on it. I didn’t watch because I didn’t want get my hopes up or put pressure on him…. I believe he must have worked on it for at least 4 hours… the poor guy… seemed like he wasting all of his time… until linux started up. Through Linux (which will run by C.D.) we were able to access all of the files and back them up. 

My Book was an astounding 119 kb in a .txt file which my Dad said was the biggest he’d seen and was really worried that it was too big to have the computer extract it. But it worked out! The Novel is now on a flash drive and on my Dad’s other computer.

I almost think that this whole thing… thinking the book was gone for 2 days was meant to motivate me this whole time….. Can I just say that I’m so glad that I didn’t blog about this while I was in Mourning for my book?

My Dad literally is a witch doctor of computers…. he did crazy voodoo and resurrected a surly dead laptop. I had never witnessed him fixing a computer first hand… especially when it was so important to the person that wanted it fixed.

Well, I’m over and out! Good luck, Good weather and Good Day
♥Aspiringtobesomeone

Who says you can’t love everyone?

2 Aug

So, in case I’ve never told you fine people… My favorite movie is Moulin Rouge. This has nothing to do with anything really. I’ve been freakishly busy with everything that life decides to throw my way… I’ll have long periods of freedom… but I can’t get to the computer to work on stuff… so all of my time has seemed a waste lately. I love Moulin Rouge, I love Across the Universe too. Two fabulous movies.

Like Christian (in Moulin Rouge) I’m where I am (in mind anyways) because I’m an aspiring writer… (and that I’ve been having every song in it stuck in my head to the point that I’m even having Moulin-Rouge themed dreams) I want to do something! So far, I haven’t finished a book… it’s not that I’m not terribly interested in it… it’s just that after a while it feels like I’m obliged to keep writing it. It becomes a duty.

I can honestly and quite seriously say that I’m a slacker. I don’t mean to be… honest to god, but it just sort of happens. I find myself manipulating people to get out of work… when I felt fine doing it… maybe even enjoyed doing it. I don’t know why stuff like that happens… I’m perfectly content… then I come back to consciousness to find myself ruining it for me…

I don’t know…. life has been weird… I feel like I’m going nowhere… (most likely because there’s so much I want to do) and like I’m running out of time to do it. Maybe I’m just too aware of my mortality. I don’t like it.

I realized last night that I’m really skinny. Not that I thought I was fat… I just thought that I was getting to a normal weight… I’ve always had a grossly high-metabolism (I mean… at 10 years old… I ate 17 slices of pizza in one sitting… in a contest… me against my older brother… he won with 23 slices). I weighed 45 pounds until 5th grade…. and finally in 6th… I shot up and weighed 60 pounds…. by 9th grade I finally reached 100 pounds.

I’m not anorexic… if anything the opposite. I’ve always been told how skinny I was my whole life… so I tried to gain weight so people would stop bugging me. Last night I realized that I was the embodiment of petite. I’m pretty slim… (something that I’d been trying to convince myself that it was just because I wasn’t through growing…) and I’m 5’6″.

Which might not be considered really short….but it is for my family… we’ve just been getting taller in generations. My Dad is 6’1″… My mother was 5’10… My older brother has finally stopped growing at 6’6 1/2″…. My older sister is 6’1″…. I’m 5’6″… that’s probably why I was so convinced that I’d keep growing….

But anyways… I’ve always been told that I’m really skinny… even by my friends… who know I hate it. I hang out with a lot of kids who are mildly obese… unfortunately because of it…. I didn’t really trust their judgement so much… mostly because I thought I had finally gained enough to be considered average or healthy. I’m still skinny, pretty stick-skinny… but honestly, I’m happy with where I am. I’ll be happy if  I get fat too. I’m just happy now… all works out in the end.

I’ve just finshed ‘The Giver by Lois Lowry‘ and can I just say that this is a must-read? I’ve been reflecting a lot lately… and this book told me a lot of things that I think I knew…. but hadn’t acknowledged it conciously. Memories are what are required to gain wisdom… that much is obvious by the phrase, “Wisdom comes by experience.”

I also realized why people believe me to be wise. You may still recieve wisdom by second-hand knowledge… so long as the person you recieve that knowledge from fully understands what is said. That you are of the same mind, so to speak.

I’m an empathetic. I’ve always hated this ability because it hinders me from moving on with life as would a normal individual. I’m not saying that I’m not normal.. I’m just saying that I haven’t had the ability to mimic what my impression of most people are. But I realize now that it at least in some way allows me to absorb the wisdom that comes with experience… other peoples’ experience… though I’m sure I do not understand fully the experiences… I get something out of it… y’know?

You’re always hearing how important knowledge is… how knowledge can be power and the such. I’ve never really, truly understood it to the fullest. I’ve agreed with it, I’ve supported, I’ve preached it… but never have I understood the full extent of knowledge. It is important to seek knowledge and understanding because in some way it allows you not only to make your own choices wisely but it allows you to help other people in some way. I’m not saying that you should be a know-it-all or anything of the kind. It’s important to understand. Understanding is what makes emotions… what could make a memory have meaning.

Take for instance, you went to a ball game with somebody 5 years ago. You might remember nothing of that day… except that it made you appreciate hotdogs a lot more… because you didn’t eat anything that day until ‘so-and-so’ bought you a hotdog. You became grateful for hotdogs… you became meek and humble and grateful just for anything to eat. You felt relief and love towards the person who purchased it for you. Maybe you felt a small smidgeon of what a starving person feels like and it made you grateful for whoever played a part in giving you the ability to recieve the gift of satisfaction… say in the form of a hotdog… or whatever else.

It is important to share experiences… maybe an experience isn’t life-changing for you in any sense of the word… but it may be for someone else.

Every event in your life… every conversation… every book you’ve read… every commercial…. just every experience has created you… it’s built up your feelings and your regrets… your downfalls… your hopes and dreams… and of course you must feel grateful to whatever has made you the interesting combination that is you! It is important to experience, to savor, to share… because otherwise you could become inhuman… our ability to experience is the thing that turns us to individuals… to be able to cry because you are at the zoo and you feel terrible that the animals are locked up and away from the life that they could’ve had… if they were not captured or injuried… when another person might be entralled at the ability to see so many animals without ever being out of the country.. to be perfectly accepting and happy with the variaty of life.

This is the secret to happiness: experience everything and savor every feeling and take it deep within you and allow yourself to be open and change! Never fear change. Never fear adventure… never fear anything! Life is meant to be experienced… pain is meant to be side-by-side happiness…. So that you may experience the fullness of happiness and enjoyment. Love these abilities… love people for what they bring to you… for their wisdom… for their heartbreaks and for their abilities… for their happiness.

Who says you can’t love everyone? I’m beginning to see that it is possible. Mistakes only take place when someone’s judgement is clouded by arrogance, ignorance and misunderstanding. So go out there and do something! Experience others’ worlds by books or movies… or even blogs! Share your experiences through whatever medium presents itself… be it paint, internet, conversation, or service, or love.

Oh! In case any of you were wondering about my haircut…. it went fine. They didn’t do the exact cut I wanted… and I was kind of angry because they cut it into a pixie cut… but I’m over it. I love my hair. It really fits my personality and I’ve been getting mega-compliments and I think it’s more than them just pitying me because I look like a dyke like I thought I did before. But now, if anything, it looks more girly than my last cut… I’m proud of everyone and such. I feel like I’m where I should be.

Thanks for listening… may you live in experience and take pleasure in knowledge and learn the secret of happiness.
Love♥
-Aspiringtobesomeone

Crazy Aspirations are a Waste of Time.

20 Jul

It’s the 48th day of summer. Not that I’m counting (I’m really not… I was curious how much time I’ve wasted). That’s just it. It’s the summer before my senior year, and this is probably the last shot I have at completely wasting my time on stupid things. However, I don’t really want to waste my time… I feel like I should be doing something… Well I know what I feel like I should be doing…

I should be writing.. not “Blog-writing” I should be working on my book. Honestly, it’s a book that’s been in planning before Stephanie Meyer even got published. I’ve always wanted to write a vampire book… I was a horror fan, before I ever heard my first ghost story… I was in love with the genre before even hearing the proper term. I was looking for the unabridged version of Bram Stoker’s Dracula, since 6th grade.. when I was finally able to find one, I stayed up until four A.M. reading it (even though I had school in the morning and had to wake up at 5:30 am to be on time) I reread it until I had to return it. I felt like I could honestly say I was a horror fan after.

Naturally when I decided I want to be a writer, I want to contribute to my favorite genre, in specific, vampires. I know there’s tons of vampire books out there… especially ones that were written after twilight.

I personally don’t like twilight. I am biased, I admit it. Mostly, because I am a horror fan, and do not like a romance novel being considered horror.  I realize that vampires are freakishly trendy right now and I want to avoid being thrust into the crowd.. I believe that my take on vampires is as original as Anne Rice’s.

I refuse to compare myself to twilight… mostly because it isn’t original… anybody who’s read the Vampire Chronicles has to be admit the freakish similarities going all the way down to names… Maybe Stephanie Meyer didn’t write the Twilight Books without reading any vampire fiction before… who knows? But my book, cannot even be submitted (without being compared to Twilight) until 10 years later (at least, considering the movies will keep it alive longer no doubt.) So, I’m writing a book that literally can’t be seen until much later and I admit I have no motivation right now in finishing it.

I love the characters… I love writing it. But I feel like I’m doing a whole bunch of short stories that involve the same people.

I want to start something different. If it goes well I might give it a category in this blog and you can just read it here. and maybe I’ll feel better about things know that something of mine is out there, being seen and read….My idea, isn’t what ‘sells’ (meaning: it appeals  to a very limited audience). I don’t know I’m just babbling.

My dad is bummed out, I know he feels like he’s not getting anywhere in his life… because all that’s happening is he goes to work, comes home, maybe watches tv for a while and goes to sleep. I feel bad for it, I know he’s getting frustrated and there’s nothing that I can do. I’m cleaning out the fridge today, maybe doing the dishes… making sure the house is clean for him. It’s basically all that I can do. I feel like taking him out for a movie… or maybe we’ll all go camping like he said he wanted to this summer.

I’m just worried. When he wasn’t getting satisfaction out of his life… he turned to strange woman to get it. (Not saying that my Dad had affairs or anything… he’s happily divorced) I mean, he dumped this lady that was stalking him (Finally!) and three months later he tells us he’s engaged to her. They actually got married and she trapped him into a relationship by cohorted all his money and finally he saves up just enough to move out again and begins to be happy in his freedom… he even treated us better (not that you could really improve much on how he treats us).

But now, he’s starting to chill out with his ex-wife almost every night and I can’t help but be afraid that he’ll go back to her. Not only did she treat us like crap but she used my Dad and treated him like dirt. It’s not healthly for him. I just want him to be happy and let him feel satisfied. I feel bad for venting on all you people… but I just can’t not think about it.

He’s really worried about his retirement because my birthmother (who is remarried and honestly I think owes my Dad a buttload considering that she got the house and all of the possessions that were worth something) gets half of it. If it weren’t for her, he’d be able to retire at 55.  Now he’s worrying that he’s going to need to work until the day he dies. I always tell him, he’ll always be welcome at my house (of the future, considering that I’m 17.) He always says that once I get a guy and have kids, I won’t want him there. Honestly, I don’t plan on getting married. I don’t want to have kids myself… right now if there’s any kids in my future… I’ll take orphans or kids that were abused… who are older and potty-trained and need someone to guide them… that understands what it’s like to be abused. That’s it.

I would be fine with my Dad in any setting anyways. I think he’s refusing himself to take it from any of us because he feels like it’s a handout. I don’t see it as a handout. I owe him more than you could owe anybody. He gave up his life to raise some kids he didn’t even know. (My birthmother forced him to work two full-time jobs where he could only be at home for 4 hours and that was reserved for sleep… believe me… I saw it. Basically until I was 10. I’m the fourth out of six… so my older siblings were 17, 15, and 13… about the time that childhood evaporates.) He’s in a dead-end job that’s so specialized that basically no other industry will take him… he’s tried. The government is slowly liquidating his job… and who knows what’ll happen than. He has some college education but he went college 30 years ago.

Who can blame the guy for having a bleak outlook? I want to help him out. I want to calm his fears… and just let him relax or party if he feels like it.

My Dad is one of the sweetest guys you’ll ever know… he’ll help out anybody…even if it feels like it’s going to take out a chuck of his only possessions in this world. I mean the guy will be running late to a wedding, or baby blessing or whatever… and he’ll stop on the highway for whoever’s car didn’t seem to work out today. He’ll give strangers rides… he’ll talk to someone who’s headlight went out and follow them home (if they want it) just so they can make it home okay.

My Dad is the prime example of what people should be striving for. He is perfectly supportive of everything we do. He genuinely hurts when people around him are hurting. I remember one time he bought a candybar (A little sneaking around for the guilty pleasure of having chocolate) saw me and broke it in half and when I refused saying that he needs to let him have his own stuff and that he shares too excessively (which is true… almost every penny of his paycheck goes to the wellbeing of others… house payment included) and he replied, “I’m a father. I’m supposed to be a provider… sharing is my job.” That’s the attitude he has about everything! Anybody could learn something about kindness by watching my Dad. I’m not saying that my dad is perfect or holy or anything.. (to be frank his obsession with model airplanes, cars, and robots is a bit excessive). He’s just a good man. A very rare type of man, nowadays.

I just don’t know what else I can do for him.

I mean I pride myself on my ability to help others, as my Dad does… and what does it mean when I can’t even help my own father? I feel like I can’t do anything. I just want the people around me happy… than I’ll be happy.

Which is my problem… my happiness depends on the happiness of others around me… I’m perfectly willing to conform into whatever they need me to be. That’s what it means for me when I say, “Aspiring to be someone.” I am noone. I have no likes, or dislikes… I have no personality except the one the people need who’re around me. I’m literally just learning who I am myself. I want the ability to know myself, and to be selfish with things (besides the occasional candybar) I want to see how it feels to live life normally… (like how other people do… instead of literally trying to please everyone).

I don’t know… it’s been a couple of crazy days… I don’t know what I’m saying or what I’m feeling… but thank you for tuning in, and allowing me to vent.

Yours Truly,
-Aspiringtobesomeone

Inevitable Success

1 Jul

Sometimes at the end of the day, the only success you’ve had is that there weren’t any successes.

Most of the time, this in itself is a success itself. When you look out there in the world… there are definitely a lot of possibilities. A daily success can be measured in many ways.

You could consider a day, a success if you literally stop to smell the roses. I do this twice, everyday. Once on my way out of my house and again on the way back. Going among the same lines a day could be considered a success simply because you saw the sunrise and set. There are few places where you can’t do these same things. If you can’t, you can always find some alternatives… instead of roses, it could be the hot smell of asphalt and tar in the summer, the nice smell of mud after the rain, the smell of getting out of the shower.

Maybe it’s not a smell at all, but a nice reassurance that everything is intact, perhaps that the ratty old teddy bear that your grandparents rushed to the store to buy at the occasion of your birth, before meeting you for the first time at the hospital. Maybe it’s saying goodbye to the moon every night before you go to bed, and being memorized by the stars or by the clouds that will hang overcast in their place.

Maybe you don’t consider these everyday things successes.

Maybe it’s not considered a successful or eventful day if you don’t see that boy you like at school, or you happened to forget an important homework assignment. Maybe you don’t consider it a good day, if someone neglects to tell you that they love you, or to otherwise pamper your ego.

What if at the end of everyday you could feel peace instead of fretting about how on earth you’ll be able to write a book report assignment before school, or have enough gas to drive to work when you’re on your last dollar for the next week. Maybe you’re afraid that your deity of choice is going to strike you down from the heavens because you said something particularly blasphemous or did something particularly sinful.

I’ll let you in on a little secret: No matter how you might have failed by the end of the day, however many mistakes you made today….today will still end… tomorrow you will have another shot at perfection and bliss.

So you go to bed quiet, blissful, and happy because you know that tomorrow will come and nothing can stop it.