An Update on Me

A friend of mine recently challenged me to participate in this 26 books to read this year challenge. Of course, I couldn't say no.

So, I'm not going to read the books in order, because that just seems way too simple. So I started off with reading a book I was supposed to read in school. This ended up being more of a bad choice than anything, because the book was slightly awful, but I had to read it anyway.

So my first book of the challenge is The Circle by Dave Eggers. Plot was okay, interesting ideas for sure and definitely gave me something to think about. But, as much as I hate to say this, the writing was somewhat lacking and definitely boring at some parts. But I didn't skim at all, and forced myself to stick through it and read the whole thing anyway.

I've also been writing a lot for classes and working on Equity again, and reading and reviewing a ton of poetry and basically just being surrounded by all things writing. I'm even back working as a mentor for a group of middle schoolers in this program called Word Play, which is all about trying to get them excited about writing. It's great.

Other than that, there isn't all that much to say. Sixteen hours of class, ten hours of work, however many hours of homework, and a lot of freezing cold wind and snow outside. Life is, well, it's life. I try to spend as much time as I can curled up with a blanket and tea in my room reading or writing instead of wandering out into the cold.

What Does it Mean?

What does it mean to be a Christian?

I skipped church today, for the first time this year, and slept in an extra two hours and watched a sermon on my own. And the truth is, I went through a massive debate in my mind the night before, trying to figure out if skipping church was an okay thing to do. I guess you could say that wanting to get more sleep and avoid the ten degree weather outside are bad reasons to sleep through church.

But the truth is-- it's not about what I do. See, I'm broken and sinful and weak. I mess up, constantly, and sometimes getting out of bed in the morning really does feel like the most difficult thing in the world. I cried through worship last Sunday because all I could see were the families sitting together in church and the very, very empty chairs on either side of me. And this morning, I just couldn't do it.

There's that part of me that wants to be able to say I go to church every Sunday and do all the good "Christian" things. That part of me is right sometimes, and knows that the only way I can build a solid church community is by going to church. But that part of me is also selfish, and wants to do things on my own. That part of me forgets that I am saved not because of me, but because of God.

And trust me, God doesn't need me to be at church in order to speak to me.

Over the last week I've been reading through the book of Exodus, and I'm now at that part when God is telling Moses how to set up the temple. I just read chapter 28, the entire thing about how Aaron's clothes should look. I find myself wondering how important attaching pomegranates and bells at the bottom of the vest really is. Does God really care what Aaron wears? Does God really care whether I sit through a church service or listen to a sermon and songs online?

I don't have the answers, you know, in case you were hoping I might. I just know that I'm broken and sinful and weak. I know that God is perfect and sinless and strong. I know that somehow, He uses all things together for His good, for His plan.

And I know that He wants my complete and total devotion. He wants every ounce of my love. He wants me to be able to pull myself out of bed and brave the freezing half hour walk to church. But He also knows my heart, and He understands when life just gets too hard and what I need most of all is to spend time alone in His presence. He knows. He knows everything, and He loves me so much more than I can understand.

That's what it means to me to be a Christian. To live in God's love, always and forever, no matter what.

One Word at a Time

So I waited too long to write about Christmas break, and now it feels like I've been back in Burlington for years instead of just a week and a half. I'm tempted to ramble about how difficult Journalism class is or how much I enjoy Creative Writing or why in the world I'm taking Japanese.

But I think I'll go back to Christmas break, even if it's just to remind me that there are times in my life when I am so happy I don't know what to do with myself.

I started out the break with an amazing birthday party full of Scottish line dancing, and then I spent a few days in the mountains playing cards and going on hikes. I then went on an overnight hike to this gorgeous lake, and then I went to this retreat thing with a bunch of friends and we went on another hike. So yeah, I spent a lot of time outside, soaking up the beautiful sunshine.

I also spent a lot of time watching movies and random episodes of TV shows my dad, mom, and brother were watching. I had forgotten just how wonderful it feels to curl up on the couch with someone and watch a story unfold and just enjoy the presence of someone else.

Man, I miss that.

I got to see my boyfriend at least once a day for a whole month, which is so amazing considering it had been about four months since the last time I'd seen him. This time we only have to push through two months, though of course that will be more than long enough.

I also got to go on a little bike ride with my little brother, and I got to see how much he's grown up in the months I'd been gone. He's turning into quite the man now. I was amazed by how far he rides on his new birthday bike and how ridiculously daring or foolish or whatever he is.

And I don't want to talk about my parents, because today's been a good day and I've been smiling, and I don't want to mess that up by missing them too much. Moving out of the house is a lot harder than I thought it would be, but maybe that's only if you do it the way I did- yanking myself away completely and moving to another continent and then another country. I wish they were closer sometimes.

Unfortunately, as far as writing goes I really didn't do a thing. One poem for my boyfriend and a couple of ranting journal entries on the one or two off days. I didn't even open Equity Blue the whole month. I still haven't. Maybe this weekend I'll find the motivation to get back to Equity, but I'll allow myself to take the break and work on fitting into Vermont life again first. One thing at a time, life's too hard to do anything else. One step at a time, or more importantly in my case, one word at a time.

Reader's Problems Tag

So, I'm moving up in the world. Rachel found my blog and invited my to join the Reader's Problems Tag which includes answering questions about reading. So, Rachel's Blog, "Rachel's Reading Corner" is awesome and you should definitely go check it out! 

Now, my answers to these book related questions. (Because seriously, who needs to study for finals?) 

You have 20,000 books on your TBR. How in the world do you decide what to read next?

 I mean, I make lists of books I should read, but when it comes to it and I'm choosing what book to read next the answer is always just whatever book happens to be nearby. So, if you really want me to read a book, the only way to be sure I'll read it is if you hand me a copy. 

 

You're halfway through a book and you're just not loving it. Do you commit or are you committed?

If I don't like a book I feel no obligation to finish it. There are too many good books in the world to spend time reading a book I don't love. An important exception is One Hundred Years of Solitude which I've been fighting through for just about a year now. I will finish it. Eventually.

How do you determine which book from your TBR pile to read next?

Hm... Isn't this basically the same as the first question? In any case, my answer is the same.

The end of the year is coming and you're so close, but too far away on your Goodreads reading challenge. Do you try to catch up and how?

  I would try to catch up... but I definitely wouldn't stress about it. I mean, there's always next year. Plus, I tend to set impossible goals. That way even if I fail I still got higher than if I'd set some piddly goal I knew I could meet.

 

The covers of a series you love do not match. How do you cope?

Ooooh. That would drive me crazy. I don't know how I would cope. I guess I would just have to read faster so that I could finish them and pretend like I never even noticed the mis-matched covers. 

Everyone and their mother likes a book you didn't enjoy. Who do you bond with over shared feelings?

I try to just deal with it and bit my tongue. Everyone gets their own opinion, right? Besides, I know that I've read books I really liked even if I can completely understand why other people don't. So I shouldn't try to force my dislike on them.

 

You're reading a book in public and you're about to start crying. What do you do?

  I just cry. Books and movies make me way too emotional sometimes and there's nothing I can do about it. I suppose I would lift the book to hide my face though and pretend like I just had bad allergies. I would probably also try to take a five minute break from the book to calm myself down and get back to the real world.

 

A sequel of a book you loved just came out but you've forgotten a lot from the prior novel. Do you go back and reread the book, skip the sequel, read the synopsis, cry  of frustration or what?

Honestly I just keep reading and trust that eventually the second book will make sense on its own. I don't usually have enough time to reread the first, and I'm just too lazy to find a synopsis...

 

You don't want anyone to borrow your books. How do you politely tell them that when they ask you for one of your books to borrow?

No way. I hardly ever buy books so I rely completely on borrowing books from others, so I would never say no to people borrowing the few books I have. I think of people reading my books as a huge honor and compliment. 

You've picked up and put down five book in the past month. How do you get over these sorts of reading slumps?

I take a break and just let myself not read. Maybe it's time to go crazy writing. When I am really inspired with a novel I'm writing I usually don't read very much, and I think that's okay. 

There are so many new books coming out that you're dying to read. How many do you buy? 

  Yeah, I don't usually buy books. I let other people buy them for me, or borrow them from friends with similar taste. Or, now that I live in the wonderful USA I can just go to a Library and check out a book. Such excitement, and way cheaper. 

Looks like that's all for these questions. Feel free to leave your own answers in the comments or disagree with anything I said. I am a bit more careless with books than many book lovers. I mean, books are important, but the story itself is the most important part. I don't think that makes sense. I should go study for finals. Or, better yet, I should get some sleep before my 8:00am final tomorrow.

Roustabout

A Roustabout is someone who lives by chance.

I learned this from a guest speaker in my Professional Writing class, a man that told us his crazy life story with a banjo, a guitar, Polish bagpipes, a love flute, and a stick of hobo signs.

While I'm not quite at the point of applying for a grant to learn bagpipes in Poland or sitting in a sweat lodge to earn the right to learn to play the love flute, I like to think that I've kind of lived a life of chance anyway. It's not like I've done anything off the charts crazy, not exactly, I've just been incredibly blessed by incredible opportunities.

In two weeks I go back to Oaxaca, Mexico, a place I've come to think of as my 'home away from home' or 'home here on Earth'. It's a place that stole my heart and makes me dream of cacti and rain on dry dirt. It's the place where I'll get to see my family again after way too long, and the place where some of my best friends will get the chance to meet up again. I can't wait to go back, and even though I still have 12 days to wait I don't know if I'll have the chance to blog again before then because finals and projects and Christmas parties.

So here's the facts. Ten months ago (ten by the time I get back in a couple weeks) I left Oaxaca. Since then life has swept me off my feet and carried me across the world. If you had asked me a year ago, when I turned 18, to predict my 18th year, I would have painted an awesome picture, but it wouldn't have come anywhere close to how crazy and amazing this year has actually been.

I have sat through 15 plane rides since that first flight out of Mexico City. Granted, this includes those little connection flights that leave me stranded in airports because they're always delayed. By the time I get to Mexico again there will be another 3 flights thrown into the mix.

I have taken 10 train rides.

Only 5 coach rides (a coach is different than a bus, a coach is for long distance and is usually bigger; buses are short around the city and I am definitely not going to take the time to count those up).

And probably spent more than 100 hours in a car. I wasn't going to add this up either, but on at least 5 different occasions I went on a car ride that was longer than 5 hours, so that's 25 hours, plus countless 2 or 3 hour drives and then all those minutes added up... you get the point.

In 10 months I have stepped in 9 different countries, 7 of which I'd never been to before.

I've also been to 9 different USA states, 6 of them for the first time.

I started college at Champlain as a Professional Writing Major.

I wrote the first 73 pages of my latest novel. (I'm hoping to get it to 100 before I leave. That's just a much better number than 73. We'll see if projects will allow for that.)

I started writing for a magazine, got a job, opened a bank account, saw 5 concerts, practically met the Queen of England, kissed the man of my dreams, finished reading the Bible for the second time, made a ton of wonderful, wonderful friends from all over the world. You get the point. I've done a lot these past 10 months. It's been crazy and fantastic and new. 

I know at least some of this was planned out ahead of time. You can't exactly just hop a flight to London. But so much of my travels has also been spur of the moment, spontaneous decisions to skip class and fly to Dublin or hitch a ride to Pennsylvania.

I couldn't ask for better adventures, better stories I will one day get to write about. It's been a wonderful trip, and I am still in awe of how lucky my chances turned out to be.

The Stonehenge

I have written at least one chapter of Equity Blue this month. Definitely not my most productive month as far as writing goes. In fact probably one of the worst. Like, in my whole life, ever.

But, although I may have kind of abandoned Equity, I've been introduced to a new form of writing--the Stonehenge.

Perks of being a Professional Writing Major in college? I get to study with a professor who made up his own form of writing to help us learn some super valuable skills. He even has a book about this new form of writing- The Stonehenge- and is working on a second, which theoretically I could be a part of and have my own writing published.

Stonehenges are three sentences long. The first two sentences set up the stage, giving some description, maybe a bit of context. The last sentence is *bam* some sort of surprising action. These three sentences together create a moment.

(I definitely suggest buying this book. It gives a better explanation of how to write a Stonehenge and a lot of beautiful examples. And the cover is so... um, soft? Can I describe a cover as soft? I just love holding the book. It's great. Anyway, check out the book.)

So I've had an incredible battle with this Stonehenge project. It's so much fun to scrunch an entire life-changing moment into three sentences, and I love the challenge. But it is definitely a challenge. Which words to keep, which to take out, where to put the ones I want to keep. I must have written this Stonehenge about a thousand different ways now.

I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with all of this. I guess I just want to make sure everyone knows that I am still writing something, even if my "NaNoWriMo Project" is 50 words instead of 5,000.

2:00 AM

I really should be asleep right now.

A year ago, there's no way I would even have imagined writing a blog post at 2:00am. No way. This is the time for sleeping and dreaming and NOT thinking. I mean, there were nights when the Whisperers kept me up until midnight, but that was a big deal. That was for days of intense inspiration and ink running through my fingertips in place of blood.

Now it's Friday night and I'm still awake, and I feel a strange sense of accomplishment. This is college. This is what college kids do: stay up at all hours of the night for no reason in particular.

But see, you've got to understand that I'm not forcing myself to stay awake to write a blog post just to say that I fell into the college stereotype of not getting enough sleep. I mean, for one, I can sleep in tomorrow. It's Saturday, my plans don't start until 1:00pm. See, this week has been a long one, and really hard. I've found myself curled up in bed fighting back tears almost every night, wishing I had someone to talk to, and yet knowing that whenever my boyfriend or sister did write to me I wouldn't actually tell them everything. I felt drained throughout the week, angry at myself for not feeling happy but too tired to do anything about it.
I started reading the Bell Jar and found my emotions put into words beautiful, way better than I ever could. And then I saw the character move even further, even deeper, and the easy, smooth transition terrified me. I felt stuck in a life that is so unclear right now and could go anywhere. I don't think I'll ever be able to comfortably go to New York City anymore, and I'm not sure I want to finish reading the Bell Jar.

But today something clicked. I guess God just decided that I had been sad enough, that it was time to answer my prayers of the week and give me a smile. He even gave me the snow I'd been asking for, and time alone when I prayed for it and friends to talk when I complained about being lonely. My God is a great God.

So now it's 2:00am and I feel more awake than I have all week. I feel alive again, and energetic, enthusiastic. I feel happy, no, not just happy. I feel joyful.

I don't know what happened, honestly. Something just clicked and feeling dragged down is just too much work. So tomorrow, if I can manage to wake up before 1:00pm... which seems a bit doubtful, I'll go for a bike riding in the morning sun. I'll go Christmas shopping and laugh as much as I possibly can and maybe write a poem about keys.

Because the book of my life is a good book, and it will have a happy ending. And if it takes staying up until 2:00am to figure that out, well then... this is college!