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 Well, not so much fun and leisure as...get some damn writing done, you fool! |
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A while ago, I attended a writers' workshop and the lady who hosted it told us all to go away with this bit of advice - to write for just ten minutes a day. I was determined to go ahead with it and I did...for two days. So today I remembered that I'd resolved to do so and I whipped out my journal and wrote for fifteen minutes. I'm typing out pretty much the same thing that I wrote earlier, with some differences. I find I can go a lot more in-depth when I'm typing than when I'm writing by hand. Writing by hand is such a chore! I've struggled with loneliness a lot throughout my twenty-nine years. I struggled with it when I was the only one home with my mum when I was a teen and everybody else had other places to be. I struggled with it after marriage and when we moved into our own house for the first time. I struggled with it after my son was born and I felt torn between pursuing my writing and being a good mum, because my culture seems to indicate that a woman has absolutely no chance of living her own life - or at least, she has no chance of attaining any goals she hasn't already attained - once she has children. I feel it occasionally still, even though I get so little time to myself nowadays that any alone time is simply awesome. I've tried to come to terms with the idea that being alone isn't a bad thing - and a lot of the time, it isn't. My friends don't live nearby so I don't get to see them often, and even when I do, I feel like there isn't much depth to our conversations. I'm surrounded by people who do not think like me, who do not share any of my interests and hobbies. I feel like I've become desensitised to isolation. Loneliness is my preferred way to be. I walked into my college cafeteria at lunch today and it was the usual hubbub of activity. Youngsters walking around, chatting animatedly, shouting across the room, laughing, eating, socialising. I could recall how that clamour wouldn't have bothered me ten-twelve years ago, when I would have been one of the youngsters talking excitedly with her friends. But, as this moment, I just found an out-of-the-way little table and sat down. I watched the crowds for a while, wondering why it was only at moments like these that the sense of isolation became so strong. In the middle of a crowd, I feel most alone. |
| 22:34 I attended a demonstration in my town today about the situation in India-administered Kashmir. As a fellow Kashmiri (though I come from the Pakistan side of it), the unnecessarily large military presence in Kashmir is not only unsettling, it is downright terrifying. I can only imagine how it must feel, to live under surveillance all the time, to have no contact with the outside world, to be in need of medication which is not allowed to come in because nothing is allowed to come in from outside. I may not be related to those people by blood, but no doubt we look similar and we share something which is, to me, more precious than any living, tangible connection. We are Muslim. We as individuals may not be able to do much when bad things happen, because how much sway does the average person hold over the general populace? Or...the world? Not much, I'd say. But we can spread the message. We can raise awareness, let people know so everyone can do a tiny little something towards helping and, hopefully, if the message is sufficiently spread, then the sheer number of people trying to achieve change is substantial enough to leave a mark. Or several, if we're lucky. I urge people to talk to their local MPs/councillors/whatever the title of the local government representative is where you live. It doesn't have to be a matter of faith. It's a matter of human rights. People are being denied basic rights like food and water and medical aid, and contact with loved ones who live elsewhere, with no news of how they're doing. Let's stand up for one another. 22:50 ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| 10:33 I wish I didn't have baggage sometimes. I wish I could go to sleep and wake up when I felt like it. Ah, those precious, precious years I took for granted when I could do just that. They are a distant dream now, so far in the past that it feels like they never really existed.  Is it a waste of time reworking a story you don't plan to do anything with? See, the story/stories I've been thinking about and mentioning on here the last few days are romance and I don't want to put romance stories out there. I want to be a fantasy author - romance is just a little side interest I have, like an exhibition I frequently walk past in an internal zoo. Poke poke. Awaken the sleeping beast! Well, the beast is already pretty wide awake. It always is. But let's ignore that particular one for now. The first story I ever wrote (the first story I was serious about, at any rate), was a fantasy. It was set on Earth, with passage to another realm a possibility and the main characters were three siblings, a pair of twins and a small girl. Looking back on it now, it was pretty bland. It was a mishmash of all the stories I'd read up to that point. I can't even remember the names or authors of the stories I'd drawn inspiration from - they were fantasy standalones or series with really bulky tomes that I only read odd books from, because those were all I could find and didn't realise at the time that the library had a system of ordering books in from other nearby libraries. Hey, what do you know, I managed to fill eleven minutes with pointless drivel, as usual. Should I keep doing this? Yes, I think I will. If nothing else, the blog is a constant reminder that I haven't written anything for a while. As long as I have a reminder, I will get back to writing. If I don't have a reminder, it might be months before I pick up the habit again. 10:45 ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| 23:26 I am stuffed. I made pancakes in the morning (well, past noon actually), had parathas for lunch (more like tea), and pizzas for dinner (at...ten 'o' clock). Not strictly not my usual routine but it's been a fun couple of days, having people staying over. Tonight is probably going to be another late night spent watching something or other on Netflix. We're currently watching 13 Reasons Why. We've nearly finished season one. It is not the sort of thing I or my friend would usually watch but searching for things to watch on Netflix can turn into a bit of a struggle. Anywho, onto more writery matters. I keep thinking about the story of mine that I recently read. My interest in the whole thing has been reawakened. I want to write. I'm itching to write, but I also want to be a good host so this is the only time I've allowed myself to go on the computer for a bit. I actually want to squeal due to how badly I want to write right now. When I'm really into a story, I start fantasising about it when I'm supposed to be sleeping. Back to being a good host...and watching 13 Reasons Why. 23:37 ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| 06:35 I have been very busy this summer. I can't believe the holidays are almost over! I've woken up early today and thought I'd try to get some writing done now because I'll be busy later. Guests are coming to stay. I will likely be up until five in the morning watching Netflix  Good times! I will try to read some more of my Rift-Touched novel today as I go along, although I have no idea how much success I'll have. And right now, I want to start working on the other story idea I had after reading the other old story of mine. The one I want to write for NaNo. Yeah, I can't wait. I'll do something else for NaNo. I don't know what else to say. I am supposed to be working on an assignment and I had a bit of help from a friend the day before so I have a faint inkling of what I'm supposed to do, but I haven't yet been able to find any complete journal articles or research papers I can use so I'm not entirely sure how to begin. There is access to more papers through the local library but you have to go into the library to view them, despite there being a website. How am I supposed to do that with a three-year-old in tow? I'm dallying now, waiting for the clock to read 06:45 so I can stop. But I guess if I have nothing more to say, I'd better just click off. 06:44 ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| 22:50 I guess not really "paid", but...yeah. Motherhood and its associated endevours are often not very rewarding. That's my opinion anyway. I've been rushing about all day, busy with something or other. I have only myself to blame - I'm not very good at pacing myself and on the days when I don't wake up early for my prayers, I sleep in and lose several valuable hours I could have spent doing some writing or working on my college assignments. Anywho, I have done nothing for my story today. I have not read anything or edited anything or even thought about my stories. I want to explore my idea for the story I'm going to be doing for NaNo this year. So, basically, because I'm more into the idea of exploring racism and prejudice and all that, I thought it would be interesting if one of the main characters brings some diversity into the mix and the relationship between these characters has to be about finding ways around the cultural differences and language barriers or something. But these types of stories are not usually my kind of thing, although it would be nice to add to my skills. I'm thinking now that I've been over this because it's starting to sound very familiar...I don't have a very good memory. But that's what I'm thinking of. Hopefully, I'll get an early start tomorrow and try to get some of it out. 23:00 ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| 22:55 Another day has passed where I haven't done any writing at all. I read a tiny bit of my story in the morning but found it too boring to continue. See, I'm not usually like this with my own stories. Only the serious ones. What does that say about my writing? I have had some ideas while I've been reading though. Character flaws are a great way to bring about conflict in a story, right? But does the focus of a story have to be about the character's flaws? Or do character flaws have to play a really big part? I just don't want my character coming across as overpowered or invincible...although he isn't, but I don't think he's ever in any really serious trouble. I guess I'll find out how much I've concentrated on his flaws as I read. If I can bring myself to do so. But I have experienced a lot of interest in the story I'm thinking of writing for NaNo. It'll be the fourth rewrite of a story I began writing like seven-eight years ago, if not more. The plan is to make it more fantastical with every rewrite, with a bit more of the stuff I usually write. I did a bit of a massive leap with NaNo last year, by making it a retelling of the Little Mermaid, but I'll go back to the original story and tweak it here and there. I like the idea of magic realism. It's something I've not tried to write before and I think there's a tiny bit of it in the original version - the main guy has brown eyes with gold flecks which people find mesmerising. Now, whether they're really magic (as he casually claims) or just really unusual enough to make people stare for too long is not confirmed. Now, if they are magical, I don't explicitly mention that they're magical, right? I make it out to be that they're unusual but due to such things not drawing too much attention in the setting, no eyebrows are raised, right? I'll look into it. I had another thought for this story. Previously, my identity as an Asian, Muslim woman didn't mean much in the world of fantasy. But as I've started to note how the world works and how racism and prejudice work, I've started to see things from a different perspective. I don't typically like writing stories about people from totally different backgrounds in relationships, but I think I could practice a hell of a lot of character building if I did try to write such a thing...with the aforementioned magic realism. It's me - I have to make it somewhat fantastical! 23:08 ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| 10:24 I usually like Sundays. They're my chill-out days. But today I'm a bit irritable. I was doing some learning activities with my son, in the lead up to his starting nursery in a few weeks. I know he's small and doesn't understand a whole lot, and I usually try to remind myself not to get annoyed, but today I did and my exasperation with his half-hearted attitude manifested in some angrily-spoken words. I feel so ashamed. Earlier, I had a go at the cat too  I'm tired and wondering if maybe that's the cause of it. Also, it's not my typical Sunday because we're going out in a bit with my sister and her two kids. I'm looking forward to an outing but I want to stay home more than I want to go out. I like being home, especially following a day when I spent most of the time elsewhere. Anyway, until my sister comes to pick us up, I'm going to continue reading my story. I'll probably finish it today - I'm near the end. The first time I participated in NaNo, it was to do the second draft of this story. And then last year, I did a the Little Mermaid version of this story...kind of. I picked randomly and it was quite a challenge to get the thing to match up with the character details I'd already established. Oh well. This year, I'm thinking I'll do another version of the story. I'm still thinking what it'll be. NaNo's just a bit over two months away! 10:34 ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| 23:11 There's this story I began in like 2010 or something and I read the second version of it a few days ago. Then yesterday, I decided to read the first draft. Since the first draft is my planning stage, it had a lot of inconsistencies in it which I managed to smooth over in the second draft. But I like the first draft way more, because the characters feel more believable in that one. I had more room to experiment in that one. I enjoyed the journey of shaping their personalities more in the imperfect version than I did the latest product. There are so many more nuances to so many different characters which had to be cut in the second draft, because of loose plot threads and characterisation errors which had to be corrected for the sake of consistency. Although the first version rambles on and often goes nowhere, it was so much more fun to read. Although I felt initially that I wasted my time in reading my own stories (especially since the story in question is not one I'm interested in having published), I believe I should take something from this experience. Everything I read now, whether it's other people's work on WDC or reading books by my favourite published author, I read through the filter of a writer. I thought this would hamper me from enjoying a story but...no, not really. I enjoy it. In some ways, I enjoy it more as opposed to being a casual reader who follows the story at on the surface. 23:20 ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| 21:09 The day I had the interview for my counselling placement, I came back from my mum's without my son in tow. He didn't want to come home. It's so much better, so much livelier over there than it is in our two-person (and one pet) home. I don't know why it bothered me so much - usually, it doesn't! I love having the house to myself! But that day, I felt so much more lonely that I usually do at these kinds of moments. I suppose it had a little something to do with my negative thoughts about the placement, my friends not able to come over to mine even though I've met with one of them so many times over the holidays (which is so rare!), but then when I'm in that mindset, the catalyst isn't always clear. When I feel down, all the bad thoughts come to the fore and each thought makes me feel worse. So this time, my son didn't want to come home and I left in a huff because I hate having to deal with him when he gets all whiny and starts crying about wanting to stay, I hate having to burden my parents with him especially since my mum looked after him all afternoon while I went to the interview and then to my friend's house, I hated that my mum gave into his whining when I would have dragged him out of there kicking and screaming if I had to (I usually have to), I hated that I came home to an empty house, I hated that my husband should have been back from Pakistan that day but due to unforeseen circumstances he had to extend his stay, I hated that the friend I went to see is only ever able to hang out like once a year and although we are going to hit 30 next years she is still very much the product of our strict culture...I hated a lot of things. I cried myself to sleep that night. I don't know why. I just felt really empty. Maybe it was the very fact that I got to spend so much time with my friends? Because I don't usually, and I had a great two days when my best friend came to stay over with her kids last week, not being able to spend as much time together and then going back to an empty house was depressing. Who knows? I was trying to get to the bottom of it while I was crying my eyes out but I couldn't figure it out. Let's just say it was an amalgamation of all the things listed above and be done with it. Anyway, why am I talking about the day I had my interview, you ask? Because I got the placement! It's been a year and I finally got a placement! It starts around the time my course finishes so there's no way I'll get my required 100 hours of therapy in time, which means I have to find another place so I can make the hours add up...more headaches, yay! -_- But I got the place! It's the first time I ever did a good interview and left enough of an impression to get the job...even if it's not really a job. But I got it! Yay! 21:27 ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| 07:21 I don't think I got the placement. The interview yesterday was the best one I've ever had (of the...what, three that I've ever been called for in my entire life?) but I don't think I got the role. Too young and too little experience in dealing with people who are bereaved, they said. I guess it's true - I've led a pretty sheltered life, which is not something that I like and even now, I still struggle to get around it. Anyways, onto the song. Finally, last verse! The sky above the battlefield is a bright blue, The Blue-Eyed Demon will cease its night-time rule, Her face affixed in my mind, I throw the blade to the ground, To protect what matters, I have no need of this power from a parasite Not while I have these hands to hold what I have And that's all right, I've realised at last. I hate this verse! I despise it! It wasn't part of the original song. I added it in when I felt the song wasn't adequate enough after revamping the story a little, but I just don't like this. It feels too forced, like I'm trying too hard to fit in Aoi's desire to overcome Raven. And the whole blue sky thing is just a little too sickly sweet, what with the main girl being called Sky and the main guy's name meaning "blue". Yeah, I'm so creative! For her sake, I will do whatever I must, Even if I have to turn Raven into dust. To protect what matters to me, I don't need the power from this being. Not while I have these hands to hold what I have, And that's all right, I've realised at last. ...A little better, I suppose. So here's the whole thing after revamping: Raven in my hand, darker than night Dripping wet in the pale moonlight Cutting down every foe coming at me Leaving rivers of blood for all to see. Those were bloodthirsty nights Without thought or purpose When I was a slave to these impulses. I see the destruction at my feet, Lives cut short, bleeding out around me Did my hands do this, the sea of red where I stand? Will Raven ever leave me to live in peace Or is this what I am where none can see? Those were bloodthirsty nights I have to have greater purpose I refuse to be a slave to these impulses. I saw her for the first time, A doll-like face and skill combined To make a mixture of blood-lust to mirror mine. Broken inside and crying for help, But no voice to voice the nightmares of bygone days Which haunted her to the present day. Those were bloodthirsty nights I'm searching for my purpose I push away the impulses. Raven's voice in my head is getting stronger, Even at rest, I feel the rush of power. "Let's spill more blood like old times, it says, Don't give up the blade now, don't let me rot away, Because we're partners to the end, until you break." They used to be bloodthirsty nights But now I've found my purpose I don't worry about those impulses. For her sake, I will do whatever I must, Even if I have to turn Raven into dust. To protect what matters to me, I don't need the power from this being. Not while I have these hands to hold what I have, And that's all right, I've realised at last. The bloodthirsty nights don't haunt me anymore. And there we have it, folks! *Bit of an edit on 3rd verse, 5th line. It was by far the longest line out of the whole thing so I cut it back a bit. Another edit on the 3rd and 4th lines of the 5th verse. And I also decided to put "break" in after all, at the very end of the 4th verse, since we now have a bit of assonance there to help the rhythm along. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
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