I've noticed before that transitioning between school and home and back is weird, not because it feels unnatural or off, but because it doesn't. Rather, when I get to the other place, the things that happened before feel oddly distant. The new reality is prevalent. In theory, this should smooth the transition, but it doesn't mean I snap back into good school habits the minute I set foot in my dorm.
Here, for your education and enjoyment, is a comparative study of instincts while at home and habits necessary for school.
Home instinct: Wake up in time for Good Eats at 10 a.m. (Too bad Cupcake Wars is on half the time.)
School habit: Be awake at 7:15 to be ready for class and start functioning immediately.
Home instinct: Talk gibberish to pets in high-pitched voices.
School habit: Have actual conversations with roommates, who prefer a normal tone of voice.
Home instinct: Crochet. All. The. THINGS!
School habit: Homework first. All craft projects second, or even third.
Home instinct: Eat when hungry -- which results in not eating till 2 in the afternoon, thus not being hungry for dinner, thus requiring extensive snacking before bed to not end up ravenous in the morning.
School habit: Eat meals at regular times, because the dining commons will close and then you'll have to buy food from somewhere.
Home instinct: Take life at a slow pace. Prioritize naturally, based on what opportunities come up.
School habit: Work according to deadline, or be woefully underprepared.
Home instinct: Get around to projects long abandoned and things left untried, because there is finally time and space for them.
School habit: Do what is necessary, and in down time, rest. Exploration into new territory is too much work.
I miss the openness of being home at a time when I don't have many responsibilities. I like the focus of being at school at a time when I do. The hard part is reconciling my mind from one to the other. It doesn't feel like a big mental adjustment, but the things required of me do change enough that I have to be intentional.
Time to get back into the swing of things.
Sunday, January 12, 2014
Sunday, December 8, 2013
End-of-semester blues
Usually, the effects of wintry weather and school drag hit me worst around February, but they've come a bit early this year. I'm tired, I'm grumpy at myself for being so lazy, and I'm ready to go home.
I've never had finals that are really bad, and this year's aren't bad, either, but I have to put in some work on projects. Like, yesterday. (And you know how "yesterday" is sometimes a poetic expression for times long past?)
There are lots of factors that have led to the end-of-semester blues:
But as an expression of the blues and as a way to defeat them, music prevails.
Last night I went to Taylor's annual Christmas concert, Sing Noel. And we did sing. I listed to marvelous music and words in languages I don't know, but the meaning is clear. This is a beautiful time of year for some reasons, at least. Music is a good place to start.
Also: Christmas.
I've never had finals that are really bad, and this year's aren't bad, either, but I have to put in some work on projects. Like, yesterday. (And you know how "yesterday" is sometimes a poetic expression for times long past?)
There are lots of factors that have led to the end-of-semester blues:
- I failed NaNoWriMo for the first time in 5 years. I could write a post about how I had to re-prioritize, but considering my last post was a confident assertion of my ability to win...
- My healthy eating has been mediocre eating for quite a while and the last few weeks have had far more sugar in them than I would like. This makes me tired. Also, I have a new theory that coffee makes me depressed.
- I'm about a month behind on my daily Bible readings.
- Wise use of time has been something I've aspired to for a long time. But self-discipline is sometimes destroyed by necessity, and then it doesn't know how to pick itself back up once it has room to breathe again. Or at least mine doesn't.
- Currently, playing Bananagrams is more appealing than doing research on the Ottoman Empire. Much more appealing.
But as an expression of the blues and as a way to defeat them, music prevails.
Last night I went to Taylor's annual Christmas concert, Sing Noel. And we did sing. I listed to marvelous music and words in languages I don't know, but the meaning is clear. This is a beautiful time of year for some reasons, at least. Music is a good place to start.
Also: Christmas.
Monday, November 18, 2013
NaNoHalfMo
Last month, I decided what I needed was a break from my novel, but not a break from writing. Thus, I planned to do what I started calling NaNoHalfMo -- write a story of 25,000 words. That seemed like a good idea to keep myself from being overwhelmed while still being creative and allowing a story that had been swimming around in my head to be told.
I'd like to think I have a talent for naming things, like characters and pet rocks. NaNoHalfMo, however, was too perfect. Half my month was eaten away with work in the theater, and I couldn't have written 834 words a day if I had tried.
Now, I have half a month left. Less, actually. Instead of 1,667 words a day to get to my goal, I have to write 1,923.
I just spent the last hour or so reading over all the NaNoWriMo pep talks and updates I've been ignoring for the last 18 days. And now I'm feel excited like I haven't been since last August when I started working on my second draft of Void. I'm starting to get infected with the frenzy that comes with NaNoWriMo. I'm starting to get hopeful, and stubborn, and determined.
Because now I have a chance to put other parts of my life on hold for writing instead of the other way around. Now I have room for a writing creative project and not just a theater one.
Now is the time for NaNo.
If you're writing a novel this month, I'll see you at the finish line.
I'd like to think I have a talent for naming things, like characters and pet rocks. NaNoHalfMo, however, was too perfect. Half my month was eaten away with work in the theater, and I couldn't have written 834 words a day if I had tried.
Now, I have half a month left. Less, actually. Instead of 1,667 words a day to get to my goal, I have to write 1,923.
I just spent the last hour or so reading over all the NaNoWriMo pep talks and updates I've been ignoring for the last 18 days. And now I'm feel excited like I haven't been since last August when I started working on my second draft of Void. I'm starting to get infected with the frenzy that comes with NaNoWriMo. I'm starting to get hopeful, and stubborn, and determined.
Because now I have a chance to put other parts of my life on hold for writing instead of the other way around. Now I have room for a writing creative project and not just a theater one.
Now is the time for NaNo.
If you're writing a novel this month, I'll see you at the finish line.
Sunday, November 3, 2013
Insidious
I made a rule for myself earlier this year that I would not do homework on Sundays. So far, I've been able to stick to it (except for when I do my American lit readings on Sundays, because that's reading and it's enjoyable, right?). Tonight, though, I'm going to bend my rule a little further, because it's not homework if it's a blog post!
This semester I'm enrolled in a lit seminar focused on C.S. Lewis. We've been going over The Great Divorce, which I read my freshman year when an actor named Anthony Lawton performed an excellent adaptation of it. Describing Lewis's words can't come near to the way he puts things himself, so if you haven't read The Great Divorce (or The Screwtape Letters), I urge you to drop all the things you're holding and pick up a book at once. And then maybe this will sound more like a musing on a book than an adapted essay.
Something made abundantly clear when reading about the ghosts in The Great Divorce is that selfishness goes along with the bending of good and truth. In making something more important than God, you set yourself up along with it. Almost any sin tries to make us God. All sins fail in that they take us farther away rather than bringing us closer to Him.
There are sins I am prone to. I look down on others for being less competent than myself. I'm jealous of those more capable than me. I let myself be carried away by more extreme emotions because I want to think I deserve to feel the way I do, which lets me wallow when it's too hard to do something about my circumstances.
The thing is, even when I'm aware of these things, I can trick myself into thinking I'm doing the opposite. Instead of being irritated at someone for doing poorly, I can pity them instead. That feels like compassion, right? Jealousy is just a desire to learn to do better. And when I know I'm letting myself get carried away, I can just try to get over it, and aren't I so strong and noble to be overcoming myself so?
Sin is insidious. It sneaks into the things we try to convince ourselves are right. It hides in the dark without knowing how big the light is.
The Great Divorce highlights how ludicrous sin and evil really are. In the face of God, in the knowledge of how deep and beautiful and enduring Truth and Goodness are, our shifting thoughts, self-justification, writhings and whimperings make for a pathetic show.
In Lewis's encounter with the Tragedian and the Lady, the Lady tries to make her husband understand. "Did you think joy was created to live always under that threat? Always defenseless against those who would rather be miserable than have their will self-crossed?"
No matter how we try to justify ourselves, Hell cannot veto Heaven. The things we would claim for ourselves cannot be right or great or truthful if they are not in God, even if born out of a desire to struggle for truth.
The real answer to all our desires can only come with eternity. With his usual deftness, Lewis puts it in words assigned to the character of George MacDonald:
"All answers deceive. If ye put the question from within Time and are asking about possibilities, the answer is certain.... But if ye are trying to leap on into eternity, if ye are trying to see the final state of all things as it will be (for so ye must speak) when there are no more possibilities left but only the Real, then ye ask what cannot be answered to mortal ears. Time is the very lens through which ye see -- small and clear, as men see through the wrong end of a telescope -- something that would otherwise be too big for ye to see at all."
In time -- or maybe, as Lewis puts it, once we're outside time -- we will see how small we currently are. We will grow bigger than the insidiousness that tries to claim us. Heaven will be an answer better than all our theories and strivings, better even than all Mr. Lewis's words can make us hope for.
This semester I'm enrolled in a lit seminar focused on C.S. Lewis. We've been going over The Great Divorce, which I read my freshman year when an actor named Anthony Lawton performed an excellent adaptation of it. Describing Lewis's words can't come near to the way he puts things himself, so if you haven't read The Great Divorce (or The Screwtape Letters), I urge you to drop all the things you're holding and pick up a book at once. And then maybe this will sound more like a musing on a book than an adapted essay.
Something made abundantly clear when reading about the ghosts in The Great Divorce is that selfishness goes along with the bending of good and truth. In making something more important than God, you set yourself up along with it. Almost any sin tries to make us God. All sins fail in that they take us farther away rather than bringing us closer to Him.
There are sins I am prone to. I look down on others for being less competent than myself. I'm jealous of those more capable than me. I let myself be carried away by more extreme emotions because I want to think I deserve to feel the way I do, which lets me wallow when it's too hard to do something about my circumstances.
The thing is, even when I'm aware of these things, I can trick myself into thinking I'm doing the opposite. Instead of being irritated at someone for doing poorly, I can pity them instead. That feels like compassion, right? Jealousy is just a desire to learn to do better. And when I know I'm letting myself get carried away, I can just try to get over it, and aren't I so strong and noble to be overcoming myself so?
Sin is insidious. It sneaks into the things we try to convince ourselves are right. It hides in the dark without knowing how big the light is.
The Great Divorce highlights how ludicrous sin and evil really are. In the face of God, in the knowledge of how deep and beautiful and enduring Truth and Goodness are, our shifting thoughts, self-justification, writhings and whimperings make for a pathetic show.
In Lewis's encounter with the Tragedian and the Lady, the Lady tries to make her husband understand. "Did you think joy was created to live always under that threat? Always defenseless against those who would rather be miserable than have their will self-crossed?"
No matter how we try to justify ourselves, Hell cannot veto Heaven. The things we would claim for ourselves cannot be right or great or truthful if they are not in God, even if born out of a desire to struggle for truth.
The real answer to all our desires can only come with eternity. With his usual deftness, Lewis puts it in words assigned to the character of George MacDonald:
"All answers deceive. If ye put the question from within Time and are asking about possibilities, the answer is certain.... But if ye are trying to leap on into eternity, if ye are trying to see the final state of all things as it will be (for so ye must speak) when there are no more possibilities left but only the Real, then ye ask what cannot be answered to mortal ears. Time is the very lens through which ye see -- small and clear, as men see through the wrong end of a telescope -- something that would otherwise be too big for ye to see at all."
In time -- or maybe, as Lewis puts it, once we're outside time -- we will see how small we currently are. We will grow bigger than the insidiousness that tries to claim us. Heaven will be an answer better than all our theories and strivings, better even than all Mr. Lewis's words can make us hope for.
Sunday, October 27, 2013
Crafting
Every once in a while, I get in a really crafty mood. Sometimes it's the result of a project that's been mulling in my head and finally spills out, demanding attention (must! buy! yarn!). Other times it's from a need to do something with my hands and be away from people. Often, it's the drive to try something new.
For the last week or two, I've been working on my Halloween costume, a Regency-style dress so I can be Elizabeth Bennet from Pride and Prejudice. (Yes... book nerd...) I've never done such an involved sewing project before. I had to carefully read the instructions, troubleshoot problems, and worst of all, hand sew buttonholes. I even opted for period accuracy and hand stitched the visible seams. I usually wouldn't put in so much time for a Halloween costume, but my hope is that I can possibly use it in the future for reenactments and cosplay. (And now I can be Lizzie Bennet whenever I want.)
Making the dress started me thinking about the patience it must have taken to live in a time where people had to make their own clothes, grow their own food, and repair their own tools. Things we take for granted, even get irritated about if they take too long, were simply considered work to be done. People had to be productive in order to get to what was more important.
Except I realized that didn't have anything to do with me making the dress.
For me, doing something like sewing a dress simply because I can is a way to instantly feel accomplished. Since I'm good at doing crafty things, trying a different crafty thing feels like something new, but really it's just another exercise in things I know I can do. It doesn't take too much effort, but I still end up with a tangible manifestation of how skillful I am.
Even when I try something completely new to me, the beginning stages are often easier to grasp, so it feels like I'm making progress. I do believe it's important for a person to be able to do a wide variety of things, but in RPG terms, my weakness is a tendency to multiclass. And giving in to the excitement of trying new things can take away from working on more important things -- skills where I now need to put in a lot of effort to improve and really accomplish something.
Namely, writing.
Because I love learning, it's easy to feel satisfied when trying something new. It is much harder to get past the beginning stages and dedicate myself to becoming an expert. Writing my novel is proving difficult. It's no longer new and interesting, but if I want to excel at it, I'm only going to improve if I keep working, rather than distracting myself with easier projects.
It's funny how doing something by hand can show you how short your attention span really is.
For the last week or two, I've been working on my Halloween costume, a Regency-style dress so I can be Elizabeth Bennet from Pride and Prejudice. (Yes... book nerd...) I've never done such an involved sewing project before. I had to carefully read the instructions, troubleshoot problems, and worst of all, hand sew buttonholes. I even opted for period accuracy and hand stitched the visible seams. I usually wouldn't put in so much time for a Halloween costume, but my hope is that I can possibly use it in the future for reenactments and cosplay. (And now I can be Lizzie Bennet whenever I want.)
Making the dress started me thinking about the patience it must have taken to live in a time where people had to make their own clothes, grow their own food, and repair their own tools. Things we take for granted, even get irritated about if they take too long, were simply considered work to be done. People had to be productive in order to get to what was more important.
Except I realized that didn't have anything to do with me making the dress.
For me, doing something like sewing a dress simply because I can is a way to instantly feel accomplished. Since I'm good at doing crafty things, trying a different crafty thing feels like something new, but really it's just another exercise in things I know I can do. It doesn't take too much effort, but I still end up with a tangible manifestation of how skillful I am.
 |
| lotrolife.com |
Namely, writing.
Because I love learning, it's easy to feel satisfied when trying something new. It is much harder to get past the beginning stages and dedicate myself to becoming an expert. Writing my novel is proving difficult. It's no longer new and interesting, but if I want to excel at it, I'm only going to improve if I keep working, rather than distracting myself with easier projects.
It's funny how doing something by hand can show you how short your attention span really is.
Sunday, October 13, 2013
Upcoming NaNoWriMo
I came up with a list of posts this week so I'll never be stuck without an idea on a Sunday evening. Unfortunately, I don't have enough brain at the moment to write any of those. Instead, I've got a quick update on one of my favorite things -- National Novel Writing Month.
Last year I did an August NaNoWriMo instead of the November version. This ran over into the beginning of school, but the summer version helped me avoid most of the stress of balancing school, theater, and writing for an entire month. This year, I've got another approach -- halving my word count.
My third year of NaNoWriMo, I wrote a book (based on Jack and the Beanstalk) that I realized wanted to be a graphic novel. It was painful trying to pack it with enough padding to make word count. The thing that really captured my imagination was the aesthetic of the world I imagined, one it took me a while to understand would work best in a visual medium. Since I want to illustrate it, that project is shelved until I get more experience in scripting and illustration.
This year I have an idea I'm also anticipating will be a shorter work. I'm going to shoot for 25,000 words, which will only be 833 words a day. (Or less than a page and a half. I can do that, right?) It is again a rewritten fairy tale -- maybe next year I'll try to shift out of that. I'm excited because I've never written a novella before, and I'm hoping I'll be able to play to the tightened medium. I'm also excited because the magic system is based on origami. This means I have to do research, but it also means I get to learn a new craft.
Unfortunately, my novel is still at a standstill, but I think it might be good to start a new and fun project for a change of pace.
Are you going to write a novel next month? If not -- what's keeping you?
Happy writing.
Last year I did an August NaNoWriMo instead of the November version. This ran over into the beginning of school, but the summer version helped me avoid most of the stress of balancing school, theater, and writing for an entire month. This year, I've got another approach -- halving my word count.
My third year of NaNoWriMo, I wrote a book (based on Jack and the Beanstalk) that I realized wanted to be a graphic novel. It was painful trying to pack it with enough padding to make word count. The thing that really captured my imagination was the aesthetic of the world I imagined, one it took me a while to understand would work best in a visual medium. Since I want to illustrate it, that project is shelved until I get more experience in scripting and illustration.
This year I have an idea I'm also anticipating will be a shorter work. I'm going to shoot for 25,000 words, which will only be 833 words a day. (Or less than a page and a half. I can do that, right?) It is again a rewritten fairy tale -- maybe next year I'll try to shift out of that. I'm excited because I've never written a novella before, and I'm hoping I'll be able to play to the tightened medium. I'm also excited because the magic system is based on origami. This means I have to do research, but it also means I get to learn a new craft.
Unfortunately, my novel is still at a standstill, but I think it might be good to start a new and fun project for a change of pace.
Are you going to write a novel next month? If not -- what's keeping you?
Happy writing.
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
Steelheart review
I should have learned long ago when my older brother handed me The Hobbit to trust his taste in books. Still, it's taken a couple years. There have been many cases when he would recommend a book, I'd tell him I'd get to it eventually, and then go about my daily life thinking I could find books perfectly well myself, thanks.
Then, since I'd delayed reading Mistborn by Brandon Sanderson much longer than necessary, he bought a copy and gave it to me. Since then I've been a bit more willing to trust. Also, he no longer has to remind me to read Brandon Sanderson's books.
I read Steelheart last week with high hopes. In short, it met expectations I might have had for any other book with its premise, but didn't quite reach typical Sandersonian levels of awesome.
Don't get me wrong. I liked it quite a lot. We've got an evil superpowered ruler and a team of resisters. We've got cool technology and character development. We've got edge-of-the-seat moments sprinkled with the ethics of rebellion.
What we're missing is the Brandon Avalanche -- the part of the book where stuff starts happening and then holy cow I didn't think of that and then things keep happening and, by the end, you're left in awe of the sheer brilliance of all the plot details and action you couldn't have imagined coming together in so short a time. Instead, we get a somewhat tamer climax.
But there are more books coming, and there are still questions unanswered. Nicely done, Sanderson.
As per usual, things were most exciting when we got to see the worldbuilding work. Supervillains -- called Epics -- exercise their powers and succumb to weaknesses. A city turned entirely to steel changes the lives of the people of Newcago. And we see how these things changed how one young man grew up -- David, the main character.
David is kind of awkward. I had to accept the awkwardness as part of the character and not the writing itself, but once I did, I was willing to go along with some of the running jokes (David's inability to make a good metaphor, being distracted in his thoughts as he talks to the reader, etc.). It works to show a kid who didn't get a normal childhood because he was too busy plotting revenge on his father's killer and still has some growing up to do. (Seeing this quirky 18-year-old guy launched into a group of hardened fighters is pretty endearing.)
The book isn't long, but it's packed full. Details are dropped at a headlong run as the story progresses, which was great, but description isn't Sanderson's strongest point. Again, I got used to it as we went along, but I might have wished some of the information to be more smoothly integrated into the plot. Usually I cared too much about what was happening for it to pull me out.
Team and leadership dynamics are some of Sanderson's favorite things, and we revisit those here. I love that in a tough, dystopian world, Sanderson makes his characters laugh. The thing is, he seems to like to do that by inserting at least one character who acts the clown. I love zany, humorous characters, but it's just not as fun when an author uses the same zany, humorous character every time (okay, so just once before in Alloy of Law, but still).
I've been nitpicking, but that doesn't negate the fact that I read this book within a day even though I kept telling myself I had homework to do. Do yourself a favor. Read this one, and then wait breathlessly for Firefight to come out next year.
And Mr. Sanderson? Bring back the avalanche. I know you want to.
Then, since I'd delayed reading Mistborn by Brandon Sanderson much longer than necessary, he bought a copy and gave it to me. Since then I've been a bit more willing to trust. Also, he no longer has to remind me to read Brandon Sanderson's books.
Don't get me wrong. I liked it quite a lot. We've got an evil superpowered ruler and a team of resisters. We've got cool technology and character development. We've got edge-of-the-seat moments sprinkled with the ethics of rebellion.
What we're missing is the Brandon Avalanche -- the part of the book where stuff starts happening and then holy cow I didn't think of that and then things keep happening and, by the end, you're left in awe of the sheer brilliance of all the plot details and action you couldn't have imagined coming together in so short a time. Instead, we get a somewhat tamer climax.
But there are more books coming, and there are still questions unanswered. Nicely done, Sanderson.
As per usual, things were most exciting when we got to see the worldbuilding work. Supervillains -- called Epics -- exercise their powers and succumb to weaknesses. A city turned entirely to steel changes the lives of the people of Newcago. And we see how these things changed how one young man grew up -- David, the main character.
David is kind of awkward. I had to accept the awkwardness as part of the character and not the writing itself, but once I did, I was willing to go along with some of the running jokes (David's inability to make a good metaphor, being distracted in his thoughts as he talks to the reader, etc.). It works to show a kid who didn't get a normal childhood because he was too busy plotting revenge on his father's killer and still has some growing up to do. (Seeing this quirky 18-year-old guy launched into a group of hardened fighters is pretty endearing.)
The book isn't long, but it's packed full. Details are dropped at a headlong run as the story progresses, which was great, but description isn't Sanderson's strongest point. Again, I got used to it as we went along, but I might have wished some of the information to be more smoothly integrated into the plot. Usually I cared too much about what was happening for it to pull me out.
Team and leadership dynamics are some of Sanderson's favorite things, and we revisit those here. I love that in a tough, dystopian world, Sanderson makes his characters laugh. The thing is, he seems to like to do that by inserting at least one character who acts the clown. I love zany, humorous characters, but it's just not as fun when an author uses the same zany, humorous character every time (okay, so just once before in Alloy of Law, but still).
I've been nitpicking, but that doesn't negate the fact that I read this book within a day even though I kept telling myself I had homework to do. Do yourself a favor. Read this one, and then wait breathlessly for Firefight to come out next year.
And Mr. Sanderson? Bring back the avalanche. I know you want to.
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