Why Only Dream?

Costa Rica & Running Away

2012-02-01T11:40:00.001-08:00

After a promotion at work, my dad passing away, dealing with some family struggles, figuring out a tumultuous relationship, getting myself neck deep into an interesting, frustrating situation, and pining away for a land other than my own, I flew off to Costa Rica.

It was beautiful--it was everything I wanted. Volcanoes, waterfalls, adventures.

I returned even more exhausted than when I left, but it was a beautiful exhaustion. The one that says, "Yeah, I did ALL of that. I took every opportunity. And it was life-changing."

I'm back now, and I thought going to another country would quell the want to travel, but if anything, the wanderlust has quadrupled.

Have you ever run off in search of something and come back to find, even though the adventure was grand, you were really just running away?

Image was taken at the Waterfall Gardens in Costa Rica

On being in a million places at once.

2012-01-30T18:47:00.000-08:00

I always post with the best of intentions.

I'm going to post weekly, I tell myself. I'm going to keep up with what's going on around me, I say.

And then two months later, I realize that time has passed, and I haven't made any effort to post. I try to read blogs every couple of weeks, but I never comment or post. Mostly because I'm trying to cram so much into my day that I just don't have the time--or I just don't make the time for it.

Part of it is because my internet life is spread out across so many different networks.

deviantART, first, since this is my job. I love it--I spend 8 hours a day helpdesking there, and I try to keep my journals and submissions recent/relevant.

Twitter, second, since it's the quickest, easiest way for me to send and receive information, pictures, quotes, thoughts.

tumblr, third. The pictures are inspiring, and I often go there to share others stuff on one blog and then share my own on another.

This blog is last. After all of that. After facebook. Mostly because I'm all out of words by the end of the day. And then because I'm intimidated by all of you. All of you amazing readers and writers. Everyone has so many amazing stories, and I don't want to post things that I've recycled from elsewhere.

I'm going to make a concentrated effort to at least comment. Even if this blog looks stale, at least I'll be able to interact with you all.

<3 Thanks for hanging around. You guys are great.

How do you handle/balance social networking? How do you balance the writing you do in your regular life and the writing you do in your blogs and social networking?

I bought a juicer.

2011-11-27T09:13:00.001-08:00

Oh man.

What did I get myself into? After watching Fat, Sick, and Nearly Dead, we've invested in a Cuisinart juicer. I've been slowly getting into it the last three days, and even though I'm not exclusively juicing, I'm incredibly cranky.

America, what have you done to us? Or... what have I done to myself?

I'm a food addict.

Not just any food, either. All of the foods that aren't good for me. The fast foods, the processed foods, the easy foods. I've been doing a great job cooking at home and making sure that I know what's going in my body, but when I'm at work or when I'm snacking... forget about it.

A dialogue from yesterday while driving in the car:

George (my fiance): ... if we just list the things on Craigslist, we can put that money towards a new bedroom set.

Me: Yep.

George: We'll clean the house, and you can take pictures.

Me: Oooh! In-N-Out. They have hamburgers. And fries.

George: ...

Me: ...

George: You know. The funny thing about you juicing is that you want to eat things you would never normally want.

Me: ... Mashed potatoes. Yams. We have leftovers from Thanksgiving.

George: ...

Me: Uh. I mean. Yeah! You're right! Isn't it weird. It's like I'm suffering from withdrawals or something.

It happened like that for the rest of the day. Even if I had the juice in hand or if I was munching on the veggies, I couldn't help but think how amazing something greasy and fatty would taste. It drove me crazy. The amazing thing is that I LOVE fruits and vegetables, but just the thought of not letting myself touch something from a package or a fast food restaurant... dfjkhdsfhksjh.

I don't know how seriously I'm taking this juicing thing. I'm not going to do 60 days of juice only--I'm not ready for that kind of commitment--but maybe 5 days is good. We'll see how I feel in a few days.

Cheers!

How do you choose what to post about?

2011-11-20T18:54:00.000-08:00

If I had a donut for every time I open up this blog post page and start and then close it, the entire office at work would either love or hate me for dumping plates of them in the kitchen.

When I started the blog, I don't even know what I was thinking. I think I just wanted to use it to connect with other writers and build friendships. I never thought I had much to say on any subject, and if I was writing, it was either for support tickets (for my job), my journal at deviantART, or my book.

After all of that, what is there left to say?

I want to write about writing, but so many people write about writing. What could I possibly say that hasn't been said before?

I want to write about my life, but why? Why not use my private journal for that?

It would be great to start using this journal to talk about something meaningful, but I guess if I have to try this hard, I need to reevaluate it's purpose.

How do you choose what to post about? Are there things you won't blog about?

<3 Love you all!

Two months.

2011-11-04T23:34:00.000-07:00

I've been writing so much lately, but I can't seem to stop.

When I got sick, it seemed like everything froze and being stuck in bed with nothing to distract me made me want to write faster.

It's been good.

It's been difficult as well.

Two months since my father passed. I hate saying 'passed.' Two months since he died. Kicked the bucket.

Some days I forget entirely but still have that lingering uncertainty as though something just isn't right.

And some days, everything makes me cry.

I want to believe I was my father's biggest supporter. I want to believe that I still cared for him, cooked for him, believed in him even though I received treatment I didn't deserve.

I'm not angry or bitter.

I just feel like in those movies. It's true. You do ask yourself, "What if things had been different?" Or "What if I had done more?"

And my result is always the same. He would still be who he was. A stubborn man who didn't want anyone's help even though his actions screamed for it.

I want to write here more often, but I'm afraid it won't be about writing. Or maybe it will be. I don't know.

How can life be so happy and so... dismantling at the same time?

I am humble, life. And I will continue to be grateful for everything I'm given, and I will continue to give. I will be optimistic. I will enjoy my life even when some days don't seem worth getting out of bed for.

That's the lesson, right? Live my life.

I am humble, life.

Writing and publishing dreams--what's yours?

2011-10-24T20:47:00.000-07:00

I tried to write this blog earlier, but I got caught up in an early online meeting and then had to pack up for work. The thought sat in my browser all day. Finally.

My mornings include waking up early, trying to squeeze out some words before work, and reading author/agent/editor blogs. I forgot how nice it is to have a routine and completely immerse myself in writing/publishing news.

I read this blog by Rachelle Gardner, and even though I don't know much, I've learned a lot in the three years I've been doing this whole sitting and reading thing. Publishing is serious business, and it's really easy to get caught up in the beginning stages. Maybe people have a hard time looking past writing because they are afraid they might never make it.

While it is important, it got me springing off tangents and finally wondering what my dream actually is. And as I sat here wondering about my dreams, I wondered about yours.

I want to be able to wake up early and walk outside. Smell forest, nature, pine, water. I want to have a cup of coffee, and I want to sit at my designated writing table. That might double as a kitchen table. Or a dining table. Or a patio table. I want to close my eyes and take in the moment. Breathe. Relax. And write. And know that, for at least the present, writing is my goal. Storytelling is my goal.

Publishing is wonderful. I want my books in print. I want millions of readers. I want all of that. But I also want that one moment of peace.

What are your writing dreams? What are your publishing dreams?

So much writing.

2011-10-15T19:00:00.000-07:00

This is good. All of this writing I'm doing.

I think.

Since my father passed, I've gone into writing overload. I don't know if it's healthy for me to be writing so much, but I think if I'm eating enough and sleeping enough...

Ah, well. Gonna keep writing and see what happens.

How are your stories coming along?

<3

Stay Hungry, Stay Foolish (for my dad)

2011-10-12T21:42:00.001-07:00

(x-posted to my deviantART journal which it was originally written for.)

So you're expecting another Steve Jobs remembrance journal? Kind of.

I've been needing to write this journal for a while. In fact, it's been burrowed inside of me for some time. Every time I looked at my userpage and the happy llama I helped create, I just didn't want to wreck it all and stop pretending that it's all alright.

When Steve Jobs announced that he was resigning from Apple, August 24th or 25th, I was inundated with journals and tweets and comments from co-workers passing by. I didn't know much about him other than his accomplishments, and I finally took a moment to watch the Stanford Commencement speech that was going viral again. The message at the end was clear, Stay Hungry, Stay Foolish. And stay happy. And stay fearless. It meant a lot to me at the time because there is so much life I want to live, so many projects I want to work on, so many words I want to write. It meant a lot because, like so many, I had gone through a lot in the last few years. Homelessness, hungry--you guys know better than anyone, really. I was humbled by life, and I had decided to try and be fearless.

His commencement speech reminded me, two years later, that I still needed to be fearless. I couldn't settle for okay, and I had to make each day count.

I had been living on this high for a while. The high of feeling fresh and new again. Ready to tackle it all. I spread the message--STAY HUNGRY! STAY FOOLISH! to anyone who would listen. I tried to re-inspire my loved ones to seize the day.

A week later, after a particularly amazing day, I received a phone call at eleven o'clock in the evening. It was a strange phone call--and it was one that told me two things: my dad moved to Arizona (from California) without telling me, and my dad was in the hospital--really sick. It's hard to not launch into the feelings and emotions again... there's so much to be said... but after an hour, George and I hopped into a car, picked up my mom and my younger brother, and beelined for Arizona.

I thought so many things. Why didn't he tell me he was in Arizona? Why did his new wife only tell me now that he was this ill? Is he tricking me? He's tried to get sympathy before...

... and I thought of all the rotten things I could to keep myself from thinking what I already knew. What I already felt.

This is so hard--so hang out for a second.

Okay. Breathing.

We arrived early in the morning. It was already so, so hot. Ninety degrees at five in the morning.

I... I can't explain fully what I saw. I can see it vividly, but the words are too hard to write (the thoughts too hard to think.) A shell of a man... on a hospital bed. I don't even... Ah.

Not my father. The man lying there wasn't my father. Not the strong, proud, stubborn, angry man that I had known. Or the one who sought to find the good in people and lift them up--the one who was so hard on himself as he was on those around him.

A body. A body strapped to the bed because he was going through alcohol withdrawals. A body. Just a yellow-skinned, bleeding body.

I've spent a lot of time in hospitals. I mean, a lot of time. If I tally up the hours I've spent, it has to be a cumulative total of a couple of months. None of what I saw prepared me for it.

It looked like the worst. It was the worst. His liver failed, and his organs were bleeding... he couldn't breathe--his lungs were failing. He gasped for air, this frail man who wasn't my father. I felt ashamed in those moments to know exactly what the cause of my father's death would be years before it even happened.

We left him hours and hours later. We hadn't showered. We hadn't slept. Even at the bleakest moment, he was getting better. It was silly to believe, looking back, but when we left his breathing was steady. He was calm, he wasn't shaking or jarring. His ammonia level was dropping. It would've been a huge battle to win, but things were promising. That's what they said.

Two hours later, we received a phone call from his wife saying he didn't have long. Breathing...

To save myself from feeling everything, I'll only say that I watched his last strained breaths before he died.

That night was the worst. I couldn't sleep with the lights off. I wasn't afraid of the dark. I wasn't afraid that he died, but everything that happened that day in all it's gruesome detail made me lose my mind. It was on a loop. Over and over again.

I left for California the next day. Everything was numb. Everything I saw, no matter how small or how fucking stupid, reminded me of him. It's funny how you forget all of the horrible things and only remember the good things. You know why that is? Because it doesn't matter anymore. All of the hurts from when he was alive? They just don't matter. My father was an alcoholic, and we got to enjoy the benefits of it.

Now? He's just gone. He's the memories that we choose to remember, the words we choose to keep him.

My father was a troubled man with a troubled past (much like we all have), but he couldn't face his demons, disappointments, or despairs. Underneath all of that? Underneath that anger, underneath the alcohol? A brilliant man who could touch anything and turn it to gold. He knew the secret before it was The Secret. He understood the value of helping people by pushing them to their limits--making them test themselves and achieve things that no one could dare to dream of.

And he held me to that too.

Stay fucking hungry, stay fucking foolish--that's how he would've said it.

The theme of living, even in death, ESPECIALLY in death, continued to resonate with me through the days after. Through his funeral. And still now, through the death of Steve Jobs, whose words were the catalyst to a deepening epiphany that I'm still living in.

You don't have to know or love or cry for Steve Jobs to appreciate the message he said... many have said it before him, many will say it after.

Keep living. Be fearless. Find your happiness. You just have to. Otherwise, what's the point?

There is still a lot I have to get through. It's fresh, and it keeps happening. My first birthday without him passed, and his first birthday without us is ahead. I'm not trying to get spiritual about any of this. I wrote this for me first, and for all of you wonderful friends second--it's been simmering inside of me for so long, and now the water is boiling.

And you know what? It's all okay.

Seriously. It is.

Finding happiness. (one moment at a time)

2011-10-03T19:50:00.000-07:00

My birthday was yesterday, and as awesome as it is to be twenty-seven (right, yeah right), it was a difficult day.

It's been a month since my father passed away, and having my birthday happen right after things became less sharp and pointy made feelings and sadness I hadn't felt resurface.

I'm not saying it's been easy, but it's been easy to dive into work, and for that, I'm grateful. The downside is that I rarely have time to myself, and things have just been piling up until I just breakdown. Physically, emotionally.

Even though it's hard to say "My father is dea--", well, I still can't say it.

Even though it's hard, I'm not unhappy. I'm happy with my life, with everything in it and the direction I'm going in. Sometimes, though, I should have more patience.

I'm trying to slow down, even though it hurts, and let myself experience everything. The happy bits and the sad parts. All of that.

It really is just one moment at a time.

Every EFFING time.

2011-09-24T17:30:00.000-07:00

Every time I say that I'm going to be on here, something else happens. So I'm here to say I won't be here at all (lie) in fact! I intend to stay as far away from this blog as possible (lie).

Sadly, I haven't been up to par with my writing goodness, mostly because of the following:

1. http://deviantart.com - My job. I love it, I spend 8 hours a day there.
2. http://thefancynarwhal.com - My other job. I love narwhals.

3. Well.

This one isn't as happy.

My father passed less than a month ago.

It's still an open wound, and I'm sure I'll have a lot to say about the subject when things are less sore. I guess the only thing worth saying now is: Be fearless. Live your fucking life.

I'll be back again soon (hopefully not a lie).

I just wanted to see how you guys are doing. <3

What keeps you reading?

2011-07-10T09:32:00.000-07:00

I'm in the midst of writing my second book, and I keep getting caught up in one thing or another, and before I know it my will to write is at its wit's end.

That's when I pick up a book and just read.

I read a wide variety of books, though I read more YA and Fantasy, and I can't help but think, "What keeps me reading this awesome book?"

What keeps you reading?

<3
Juli

Why I've been gone & Fancy yourself!

2011-07-06T18:32:00.000-07:00

Hi everyone!

It's so good to write a blog post after I've been neglectful for sometime. Unfortunately, I don't know when I'll be able to post again with my schedule, but I'll be making an effort to check up when I can.

On a good note, the reason I've been gone: I finally opened my new store, The Fancy Narwhal.

The store has a small amount of products right now, but I'm still working on growing the store slowly. :)

Take a peek at it, and if something catches your fancy (hurr), pick something up!

The Fancy Narwhal

It's been challenging trying to juggle so many projects, but I'm really excited, tired, and ready for more adventures!

<3 Love to you all; See you soon :D

Where do you write?

2011-06-11T18:29:00.000-07:00

In an attempt to find a comfortable place to write, I lugged my laptop to the bedroom, to the couch, and finally to this little nook pictured above. When I moved into this apartment, I saw this space and knew I wanted to do something different with it. I wanted it to be cozy and comfortable with just the right lighting and just the right chairs.

I really wanted a place I could sit down and feel like I was in my own world where I could just write all of my thoughts and be surrounded by the books I love.

You know how many times I've used it?

Two times.

One was today.

I'm sitting here now in an attempt to get used to this, but it really comes down to convenience. It's easier for me to write on the couch with the TV on, or at the dining room table, but I'm trying to create a habit now that will last for a long time.

I want to put my butt into this chair and BOOM my mind goes, "Hey, time to write!"

It's been asked many times, and will continue to be asked many times over, but where do you write? Where do you think? Do you have a routine?

Maybe you need a special chair or a special drink, or maybe you just need to be outside with fresh air.

Spill the beans!

w

ajhsgdjsahgdjhsagsdf.

2011-06-11T14:07:00.000-07:00

Yes, the title sums it up.

Life is taking me for a spin (instead of the other way around), but it's so much good I can't complain.

It's been tough balancing everything with this blog. I spend so much time on deviantART that I rarely have time to do much else. I think it's a matter of carving out time on the weekends to make sure I check in here. I've missed so many great posts, and the thought of reaching back a couple months and trying to catch up makes my eye twitch. I'm going to be making a greater effort to blog here, even though I'm sure there are many other writers out there sharing their journeys... and they are much more interesting and helpful than I am.

Since I've been gone, what have you all been up to? If you link me to a blog post you've posted recently, or one that's important to you, I'll drop by :)

<3
Juli

PS. I still have to announce my giveaway winners! Stay tuned for that in the next journal. Yeah. I know. That was a long time ago :D

ADVENTURE!

2011-05-16T16:26:00.000-07:00

<3 Lovely blogfriends!

The Group 9 Crusaders present to you the Choose Your Own Adventure bloghop! Enjoy your adventure, and be careful to make the right choices ;D

PS. Follow the links, and you may end up back here to read my entry

Wait, do you mean to read this first? If you haven't started the adventure, start here: Click me to start

If you are already on your quest:

You've chosen: Smack it! Whack the Yeti!:

           Ha! Pet it! You’ve seen enough man-eating animal documentaries to know better than to touch it. It’s all a ploy. Those sweet round eyes and moist nose. Just a ploy before he’s sure to sink his teeth into you.
           The fear sets in again, and you do it. You swing the rock down, aiming for the beast’s head.
           Unfortunately, you’ve never really been an athlete, so your whack does little more than your bare hand slapping it would’ve. Actually, that might have been more effective.
           The rock slips from your hand and falls to the floor, and you’re frozen. The beast’s eyes stare at you, and you wonder whether it’s confused, amused, or just hungry.
           “Ahhhh!” You scream loudly and flail your arms in a moment of panic, and the rush of adrenaline urges you to act erratically. Your arm shoots out, and in a wild grabbing motion, your fingers close on the fur of the Yeti. You tug and tug, and yet no hair is freed. It’s as though the hair is bolted to its body.
           One last panicked tug frees a clump of hair, and the previously docile Yeti yowls in such a way that you almost drop it. You ball your hand into a fist and back up as quickly as you can, knowing you’re going to trip over a rock, or something, and it will all be over.
           The Yeti’s yowling subsides by the time you’re a fair distance away, and you turn around to break into a full run. You stuff the hair into your pocket, and your legs gallop out of the cave and back to the wonderful outside world.
           The cold air smacks you in the face, and your elation grabs you momentarily. You have the samples. You have the samples!
           You almost skip on the way through the forests and through the trees, still cautiously tossing awkward glances over your shoulder. You feel like maybe the Yeti is still watching you, but since you didn’t hear it come after you, as the moments pass you feel more comfortable.
           After a few minutes, you slow to an easy jog, enjoying the crisp air, and then you turn your head to the left to see the beautiful horizon through the trees.
           When you started, you didn’t realize how high you had climbed to find this mysterious cave, and as your heartbeat slows, you take deeper and more satisfying breaths.
           The clouds tickle the horizon as they pass, and you relish the moment of having the samples of Yeti fur in your possession. No doubt there would be skin particles, and you didn’t even get a scratch. A photograph might have been nice, but now that you have the samples, everyone will know they exist and seek them out for further samples and investigation.
           You take one last breath of air, shaking still from the adrenaline, before turning away from the horizon.
           Before you can react, the Yeti is charging towards you, and the moment of happiness you had is caught between confusion and fear. It’s too late to react. The Yeti leaps through the air and lands on your chest sending you both over the cliff in freefall flight.
          You cling to it's fur, and the Yeti clings to you, and for a moment you share a moment of panic together. The air freezes your skin, and you enjoy the moment of falling free before your ultimate and untimely end.
          Instead crashing to your demise, your fall is only seconds and you tumble down the side of what you thought was a steep cliff only to find that it's a snow covered twiggy slope.
          You both tumble with each other, rolling down the hill. Something's broken, you're sure, but hitting the ground never felt so good. Your heart thumps in your chest as you roll to a stop in the dirty, melting snow.
          The Yeti lies beside you and turns to face you. You groan and cover your face with your hands. You're giving up. It can eat you. Not that you'd be able to move quickly anyway.
          When you move your hands from your face, the Yeti is no longer beside you, but standing over you.
          He lifts a rock, a bigger rock than the one you used to try and knock him out, and swings it down towards your face.

The End.

Maybe you made the wrong choice:

Go back: Stop and take a picture
Go Back: Hightail it out of there
Start over

How have you been?

2011-04-18T18:41:00.001-07:00

Well, I've been out of commission for a little while, huh?

How have you all been? What's new? What's exciting? What's happened in your life in the last month?

<3
Juli

An apology

2011-03-15T16:57:00.000-07:00

Hi everyone!

I know this isn't much, but I wanted to offer an apology to you all. Yes, each and every one of you who has followed my blog. Whether it's from the crusade or from something else.

When I joined in to the crusade, I had a game plan in my head. Blogs I would comment on, blogs I would post, people I would say hi to and so much more.

The plan slowly fell apart as things started happening around me, most notably (and recently) a car accident on Friday and my grandmother passing away on Sunday.

So here I am. With a giant 'I'm so sorry' and a promise to you all.

I didn't join the crusade group thinking this was a short, quick sort of thing. I joined because I wanted to make writing friends who I would be able to support and exchange thoughts and ideas with for a very long time. Regardless of my start, I promise I'm in this for the long haul--way after the crusade is over--because I have really yet to begin this great journey.

Thanks guys and gals. You're all awesome <3

Oh dear.

2011-02-27T15:45:00.000-08:00

I may regret this, but I laughed so hard when I saw it, I had to share it.

My co-worker and awesome friend Chris likes to take photos with her phone when I am unaware. Usually, I become aware and hide behind my hands or my computer monitor.

She has an absurd number of photos with my hand in the way. (I have an absurd number of photos of her with a phone in front of her face.)

With the iPhone app, Muybridgizer, she captured this wonderful gif of me waving a Medieval Times flag and looking ridiculously happy.

You may laugh if you wish. Enjoy:

<3

Distractions & a Game!

2011-02-26T14:31:00.000-08:00

Welcome to Saturday! I'm a little late, since it's around 2:30pm here, but I have been trying to catch up with all of the stuff that accumulated while I was in Vegas.

Work is crazy--going back to work for three days after a long weekend is hard, and I'm glad to have this weekend to center myself and get back to it. Do any of you have deviantART accounts? If you do, link me to them, I'd love to check them out. :)

Distractions punch me in the face. Even if I don't have anything to do, I'm still ridiculously distracted. I started going through my blog comments, ended up at the crusaders page, hung out on a few blogs... and then I baked coconut macaroons, toasted bagels, and whipped up some tuna salad.

I also burned my hand because I am an idiot. I grabbed a hot pan from the oven. It was lovely. I'm trying to type gently.

ANYWAY, distractions!

Let's play a game!

The internet is a world of distractions, and I can waste a day away clicking from one thing to the next. I also have the unfortunate habit of opening a bunch of windows/tabs at once, and I get lost in my own browser.

If you have multiple tabs open:
What are they? (you don't have to be super specific)

If you have one window open:
What are the last three websites you've visited? (again, you don't have to be super specific.)

Do you have any weird browsing habits or a routine you follow?

Let's go!

Mine:

5 Firefox Tabs open:

1st tab: http://earthshare.org/
2nd tab: The blog entry window
3rd tab: The list of crusaders
4th tab: http://750words.com/
5th tab: When do eggs really expire?

It's usually a lot worse, but you get the idea. ;D

<3
Juli

Vegas. ALSO HELLO EVERYONE.

2011-02-23T10:17:00.000-08:00

Just a quick post to say hello to everyone!

I've been in Las Vegas, so I'm pretty behind on this Crusader business. HELLO TO YOU ALL AND I WILL BE VISITING YOUR PAGES SOON!

If you have time, leave a comment and let me know what your favorite book is!

<3

See you all around!

Giveaway: Travel

2011-02-14T17:44:00.000-08:00

I have a lot of fun over at my deviantART account (username: ArtisticAunJuli), and I have been doing a giveaway once a month!

x-posted from my dA account:

Giveaway Two: Travel

I don't have my passport. I have never had a passport.

But I really want to travel.

It's been on my list to get a passport for sometime, and I think this will be the year I'll get it. I want to travel to so many places, see so many things. Growing up, I moved a lot. The change of scenery, at the time, scared the shit out of me, and I was always upset when I had to leave the friends I had just made. Now that I'm older, the itchy feeling of needing to escape and go somewhere new nags at me.

The feeling was quelled in 2008 and 2009 when I moved to Phoenix (AZ), San Antonio, Houston (TX), Corona, Buena Park, and Riverside, California.

Yeah, I didn't want to move after that…

But the want to wander is still there, and I'm lucky that California offers so many different landscapes all within a driving distance and reasonable price range. Eventually, I'll get my passport, and hopefully we'll save enough money to go somewhere and experience things I've only read about.

This giveaway post is much shorter, but I really have to write my book D: (and I don't think saying over and over and over that I want to travel in different ways is going to be very interesting.)

For this giveaway

1. Simply leave a comment and tell me where you've been and where you're going! Don't worry if you haven't been anywhere, tell me about the landscapes local to you. What's interesting in your village, town, city, country? What do you long to see? What do you need to see before you kick the bucket?

2. You'll be automatically entered into the drawing by leaving a comment answering the prompt.

3. That's it. Really.

The prizes
One winner will have the option to pick their prize package:

Package A: A travel guidebook to the country of their choice & 15$ Amazon Gift Card

Package B: A 25$ Amazon Gift Card

Package C: 2000 points! (This is a deviantART prize option!)

Giveaway Closes on March 5th, 11:55pm Pacific Time

Winners will be announced on March 13th

Giveaway Three will be announced on March 13th

Giveaway One Winners and stuff: http://artisticaunjuli.deviantart.com/journal/38442794/

<3 Juli

P.S. deviantART users are entering there, and bloggers can enter here. One entry per user, and the entrants from both sites will be combined, though there may be more than one prize given out.

Writing to finish and writing to write.

2011-02-10T20:47:00.000-08:00

With my book in the capable hands of two lovely friends, I'm beginning to understand some of the differences between writing to finish a book and writing to just write a damn good book.

When I started Curio, the fourth time, it was to finish the book. I have had so many false starts and so many half-books, and it made me wonder if I would ever finish anything. I stuck to a strict diet of outlining my scenes, and eventually, through toiling and running a word marathon, I finished.

And you can see, when you read it, exactly what I did. You can tell that through my rushing, the pacing is awkward, that parts needed to be thought on more, and some of my characters don't have time to develop that delicious bond we, as readers, crave. The connection.

Dreamers has been different. I'm writing slowly, deliberately, and the words are meaningful. I can only see a few steps ahead of me--I haven't written out scene outlines in their entirety--but it's just enough to know where I'm going. I have room to grow, to manipulate the story, and put the puzzle pieces together the right way the first time around.

I'm about 8,000 words into Dreamers, and although I know that it's just a tiny piece to the huge puzzle, it's a start. A pretty encouraging one.

I'm not greedy. I'll take encouraging.

(edit) I'm going to jump into the Writers' Platform-building crusade! Check it out here: CRUSADEEE! I found this through my newest writer friend, Devin!

Hooray!

Happy (or productive) writing!

Invigorated

2011-02-10T00:08:00.000-08:00

I haven't felt this excited about writing or about my life since I was a teenager dreaming my life away.

Got a long way to go, so let's do this.

Somehow. Sometimes. Some way.

2011-02-06T21:16:00.001-08:00

I was going to write about writing, instead, I decided to write about living.

Sometimes, when it's late, sometimes when I let him doze off, I watch him sleep. I stop what I'm doing, I stop pretending that everything is fine and just watch.

I watch the way he breathes, I watch his face, his eyelashes. I look and I wonder how we make it. I wonder how even with all of the hope and miracles we've had, how sometimes it's like we're holding onto a thread.

This quiet contemplation only happens when he's asleep. When I see him in his most fragile state.

That is when I lose my mind, and I just can't help but cry. And I beat myself up for not working harder. Or not doing this. Or not doing that. Like I have control of his illness. Like if I could JUST do this, or if I had just done that.

The hardest part is surrendering. Surrendering to the fact that I'm doing all that I can, my very best, that we are doing are very best.

Somehow, though, knowing this doesn't make it feel any better. And then I mop myself up, and push through another couple of days, weeks, months.

We've made it this far. Nothing will stop in our way. That's the only thing I know, that's as far as I can see.

And I'm okay with that for now.

Giveaway: Food Memories!

2011-01-16T00:02:00.000-08:00

Giveaway 1: Food Memories

**Each giveaway will be preceded by a story of some sort, so if you want to get straight to the giveaway prizes and rules, scroll to the bottom!**

I’ve been cooking and baking a lot, and I just started reading Julie and Julia, so I wanted to do a food related post!

If you walk into my house, you may be met with a stack of Belgian waffles covered in fruit and syrup or a plate of warm cinnamon cookies with soft apples and buttercream frosting.

This was not the case two years ago. Even a year and a half ago.

George and I used to live what I call the ‘car business’ lifestyle. There are two important things to know about being a car salesman or living with one, and neither of them has anything to do with cars.

The first thing is that the schedules are shit. Yeah, yeah. The schedule might say 8am to 3pm, but what it really means is that you’re going to stay until you’ve met your goal, or you ain’t gonna eat that month.

Or you aren’t going to have a job.

There are also delightful ‘bell’ schedules, which means you wake up, get there with the early birds, and leave with the night owls. You could be there from 8am to… oh, I don’t know, 2am?

This means that planning a dinner doesn’t happen.

The second thing to know about this car business lifestyle is that you eat whenever you see the opportunity, and you have to eat fast. Ya gonna sit there and enjoy a leisurely lunch of creamy pasta with a light salad and breadsticks with dipping sauce while another guy is taking your up*?

Nope. You’re gonna run and grab a fistful of burger and shove it into your mouth while you’re running to grab that lady eyeing the tricked out Escalade.

I worked in the car business, and my father spent his entire life working in it, so I was used to him not coming home on time for dinner, and George’s schedule—though annoying—wasn’t really strange to me.

If you’re adding this all up, go ahead and throw in the part where I didn’t know how to cook. Yeah, I couldn’t boil water.

Okay, everyone, if you’ve solved the equation, the answer should be: For years, George and Juli lived on a diet of fast food and frozen food. Usually McDonalds, it was closest, and those great frozen bagged pastas that you can dump in a skillet frozen and cook for ten minutes to be proud that something came out of the pan and not the microwave.

The last year has been amazing in a way that is really small. I’ve had the time and resource and reason to learn how to cook. To cook well. And bake. And bake. And bake. And stop to smell the delights. And sigh with content. And bake.
I’m always touched by how personal food can be, how much joy it can bring, how it can bring people together.

The ‘car business’ lifestyle meant George and I didn’t get to cook together, eat together really. It was scarfing down premade foods and regretting it afterwards.
Not knowing how to cook or bake meant that I couldn’t bring delicious homemade cookies to my mom’s house to share with her. To show her that I do remember how much time and love she spent with every dish she made.

When I was young, very young, I came home from school, and my mom was home early from work. She made a plate of cookies and sat them on the table for me when I walked through the door.

I said, “Mommy, I wish you could be home all the time so you can bake me cookies.”
My mom quit her job the next day, and she continued to stay home and bake and cook meals that would bring our family close together—food and meals we still laugh about.

I am so grateful I have the time to learn and people to share my creations with. It is such a simple way to connect with others, and it is a very gratifying thing to stand in the kitchen and watch the chicken sizzle in a pan with vegetables and balsamic vinegar or smell the lemon from lemon and raspberry bars and know that you put just enough lemon zest and lemon juice.

It’s just a good way to end the day. Everyday.

Giveaway Rules

- Reply to this journal with a comment answering the prompt/question.
- You can enter once here, and enter once on my dA Journal for a total of two chances to win. There is a BONUS entry chance for deviantART users as well.
- Winner will be drawn out of a hat by someone who isn’t me. Maybe my cats will pick the winner. An honorary smaller prize will be given to someone who really hits me with their reply.

Prizes for the FOOD MEMORIES giveway

I wanted to allow for a lot of options, so there are three different prize packs you can chose from if you win.

Prize Pack A: A copy of Julie & Julia (the book), a set of measuring cups and spoons, and an additional kitchen/cooking/baking related surprise.

Prize Pack B: A copy of Mastering the Art of French Cooking Volume 1 –or- a copy of the Pillsbury Cookbook (a cookbook that my mom swore by!), a set of measuring cups and spoons, and an additional kitchen/cooking/baking related surprise.

(for deviantART members!) Prize Pack C: 1600 deviantART Points!

The Giveaway Prompt

Comment here with the food that you cannot live without. Tell us about your first experience with it, your most recent experience, what it means to you, why it is your favorite!

There are no restrictions, no word limits. Just share. It is a random drawing, but I will be picking out a food story to feature on my blog from someone and giving them a small prize also, so if you want to post something lengthy or emotional, go for it!

Remember, you can enter twice, once here, and also in my dA Journal

Deadline: January 31, 2011, 11:55pm PST

Winners will be announced on February 12, 2011

Good luck!
<3 Juli

PS. If you want to share links to this giveaway in your journals, blogs, twitter feeds, I wouldn’t mind at all ;D

_{*’Ups’ are people walking up onto the dealership car lot, and if there isn’t a rotation list of who gets to go next, it’s who can get to them fastest.}

Where I really mix things up.

2011-01-06T23:59:00.000-08:00

My new project, currently just called Dreamers, is a challenge. A huge challenge. A challenge like I've never encountered. (Okay, well. Finishing my first book was a huge challenge...)

It is so different from my first novel, I don't even really know what the hell I'm doing. When I think I know what the hell I'm doing, nope, I screw it up and realize I still don't know. It is so frustrating.

And it's fantastic. Absolutely, undeniably fantastic.

I've changed the perspective and the tense to something I've never really worked with before. Taking a risk, even when it is so frightening, makes me feel alive.

I'm pretty thrilled with this book. I want to believe it's fresh and exciting, but I won't kid myself. I know, though, it's a good story, and I'll just start with that.

The rest will come later.

The Old Year, The New Year

2011-01-03T21:07:00.000-08:00

I wanted to write a reflection of 2010, but I don't know if a full recollection is possible. I am overwhelmed just thinking about it--in a very good way.

2010 was the year that I was able to stand up on two feet and finally look over the mountains that 2008 and 2009 built up before me. Somehow, I was able to grow taller and taller until I was able to walk over them and see I was, indeed, going in the right direction.

It was a year of learning, a year of undoing bad habits, and a year of being happy for what I had.

And I am still happy and grateful for all that I have.

I keep telling people, "I'm so excited for the new year, but really, I'm just hoping it's a continuation of 2010." And that's how I feel. I want to continue to grow and learn and love in the same direction as I have for the past year.

Notable events:

-January 7, 2010 - I began working for deviantART

-July 7, 2010 - George and I moved into our apartment in Hollywood. The first place we had ever moved into on our own. The last place we had paid for by ourselves was a wonderful little place called the 'Coral Motel.' Or 'harsh reality' as I like to call it.

-November 1, 2010 - Started writing what is now called Curio or Curios.

-December 12, 2010 - Finished writing Curio. I have written so much over the years, but I've never, ever completed a novel before. Monumental.

2010 brought a year of recovery for George for his health issues, and while it was the most difficult thing to deal with for the entire year, the end of the year showed us that the time and effort would pay off. He's getting better now, and I can only imagine how much better it will be in 2011.

2010 was a year of discovering new friendships and building better and stronger relationships with my family.

2010 was a year of learning how to make pancakes, use a George Foreman grill, and boast that I never, ever had to resort to cooking a frozen food. (We lived on frozen burritos and meals for a few years.)

I know that I can't fully sum up 2010 with all of the feeling and emotion I have for it, but at least a small glimpse will show how lucky I was and how lucky I still am.

So what now, 2011? Are you ready? I sure am.

2011, ya got big shoes to fill.

;D

The end in sight? Nope. Not yet.

2010-11-21T09:28:00.000-08:00

I hit 50,000 words for NaNoWriMo!

But I still have about 20,000 words to write.

When I started NaNoWriMo, my goal was to finish a novel. After two failed novels because I didn't plan properly, I thought, "Crap, this is never going to work. I can't finish a novel. How can I be a novelist if my novels don't end?"

The tail end of my novel is here, and I have an outline. I have exactly how I want my novel to end. That's the difference between this novel and the two previous ones. Things keep changing from my outline, but it's all still going in the same general direction.

Now that I'm nearing the end, I can see the holes in the story, I can see that the pacing is off. Fortunately, the spine of my story is strong enough to insert pieces and delete pieces as necessary, but it still doesn't make me feel any better knowing that my goal was to speed through a novel.

I'll tell myself again that the reason I did NaNoWriMo like a mad fool was to prove to myself I can actually end a novel. If I remember this, if I finish my novel, I can pretend it's a victory until it wears off, and I have to go back and gut it.

My goal was to finish a novel.
My goal was to finish a novel.

I'll keep telling myself this until after I finish my novel when a new and more difficult goal is ahead of me.

Reversing my goals

2010-11-20T13:15:00.000-08:00

My approach to writing is constantly changing.

When I first started writing novels two years ago, I thought to myself, "I'm going to write the best novel I can write."

I didn't think about finishing a novel or a plot, even though those ideas are incorporated into writing the best novel.

Enjoying writing is something that's new to me this year, and I've found that trying to power through and just get the ideas down has become more important than making sure that my writing is polished and beautiful--I keep telling myself that's what editing afterwards is for.

I don't know if this is going to work. I'm scared to find that I'll finally finish a novel (yes!) but I'll be too overwhelmed to edit it. I love editing, though, and maybe it was my love for correcting that slowed me down before and left two of my manuscripts unfinished.

My fingers are crossed. I'm closer to the end than ever before.

This is really it, this is the beginning.

Hollywood!

2010-11-16T20:24:00.000-08:00

I just read the last blog post I made, and it was back in March, only a few months after I was hired by deviantART.

I've since moved to Hollywood, and I walk to work every day. Sometimes run. Or skip. Sometimes I slip on the wet sidewalk and narrowly avoid faceplanting on someone's star. It can be surreal at times to think of where I was and where I am now, but it's even crazier to think that it's just the beginning of so much more.

NaNoWriMo is in full swing, and while I don't advocate writing 50,000 words in a month, I've been using it as a tool to prove to myself that YES, I CAN FINISH THIS NOVEL. 150,000 words and zero endings ago, I panicked and tossed away two novels that were particularly close to my heart. I thought that having an idea was enough, and that if I wrote and wrote and wrote, it would resolve itself eventually.

My first novel took me to 72,000 words before I realized it was futile.
My second novel took me to 20,000 words before I knew I was wrong.
And I rewrote.
And rewrote.

And I gave up.

So here we are with a freshly planned novel, a complete scene-by-scene map with enough room for flexibility and 41,000 words.

I'm feeling pretty good.

Learning that it is all a learning process and that there won't ever be one right way to write a novel was huge for me, and I hope that I keep finding these useful bits of knowledge as I (OH GOD I HAVE TO FINISH IT THIS TIME) finish this novel.

And so

2010-03-19T18:24:00.000-07:00

And so it happened again.

Life whisked me away, far away from LJ land. In all honesty, I haven't had much time to post journals anywhere. No, not even deviantART.

2010 has been an eye-opener, a life changer, and I'm so grateful and happy. I don't think I could ever express how much I'm thankful for 2009 and everything it taught me, and how much more grateful I am to have made it to 2010 where I can begin to see my dreams come true.

Yeah, yeah. I have a long way to go still. I have a lot of goals to meet, things to write, etc. There are many things I need to have closure on.

Somehow, though, driving to Hollywood every day and working for deviantART after two years of volunteering just FEELS like one of the biggest accomplishments of my life. Even with all of the setbacks. Even though I nearly got the job in 2008, and I almost got the job in 2009, it feels perfect now.

I love my co-workers, and even though I'm at work, it doesn't feel like it.

Things are great.

George is doing really well, in fact, he's become my own inspiration. I'm so proud of him.

It's a small entry for now, but hopefully I'll be back again soon.

I know, I know. I've said that before, so don't hold your breath. ;)

Writing and writing and writing

2009-08-19T18:17:00.000-07:00

I can spare no more words right now. Working on some art projects, hopefully things that will be finished before the end of the year.

Just wanted to post my novel word count progress bar.

Updated 2009 Book List

2009-07-27T18:06:00.000-07:00

My reading list for 2009 thus far:

1. On Writing - Stephen King
2. Faerie Wars - Herbie Brennan
3. The Purple Emperor – Herbie Brennan
4. Playing for Pizza – John Grisham
5. You are so Undead to me - Stacey Jay
6. Ruler of the Realm – Herbie Brennan
7. Inkheart – Cornelia Funke
8. Inkspell – Cornelia Funke
9. Forest of Hands and Teeth - Carrie Ryan
10. Treasure Island - Robert Louis Stevenson
11. The Color of Magic - Terry Pratchett
12. The Light Fantastic - Terry Pratchett
13. The Faerie Lord- Herbie Brennan
14. Hardboiled Wonderland and the End of the World - Haruki Murakami (A reread)
15. Neverwhere - Neil Gaiman
16. The Magic Circle: Book 1 - Tamora Pierce
17. Airman - Eoin Colfer
18. Check Raising the Devil - Mike Matusow
19. City of Bones - Cassandra Clare
20. Goblin Wood - Hilari Bell
21. The Tower of Stony Wood - Patricia A. McKillip

Fearless

2009-07-27T13:25:00.000-07:00

My eyes hurt right now from crying.

Not from being sad, but from being unbelievably happy. It is amazing, even to me, that I can say these things regardless of the situation I'm in. Just like everyone, some days are harder than others. But unlike everyone, I feel so lucky to have any of these days. It could sound melodramatic, but it isn't. It's the life I'm living right now. Right now.

I'm sitting on an old recliner in a weekly rate motel trying not to imagine what people living here before me have done on it. A spider, at least I think it was a spider, just crawled out of the crevice and onto my arm. Yes, I swatted it away. The carpet is worn and stained with what my imagination demands is blood, and the mattress on my side has an indentation like a crater. I sleep inside the crater every night despite the strong coils that push into my back. It's like my nest.

I wake up every morning and iron George's pants on a round, towel-covered table and the iron that someone lovingly bought me months ago from my Amazon wishlist. I wash our clothes in the sink in the bathroom with free, chalky body soap the motel provides. Hot water goes on, a few t-shirts go in, some soap, and then I rinse and hang them up on the shower door. Socks, underwear follow. I walk in every so often and squeeze the water that collects on the bottom of the clothes, hoping they dry faster.

When I was younger, I wanted things with an insatiable thirst. I wanted everything and everything--and I usually got what I wanted. Alongside the feeling of need, I also clung to a passionate desire for success. I plotted my goals in life when I was eight and nine. They all placed me at eighteen and wildly successful. A book written, a career in music, a famous artist--a famous anything. In the bottom of my mind, way behind the shallow of my day-to-day existence, I thought to myself, "Everyone who is anyone has come from nothing. People who are spoiled like I am, people who are given everything as I have been given--they don't have anything to work for. They don't have anything to provoke them to be better people, to be smarter people, to be more successful people." These thoughts started as early as eleven years old.

Last year, my life of wanting and receiving ended. A lot of things ended last year. For the first time in my life, I felt what it was to desperately need, and even then, I wasn't needing the right things. I envision my decline like on the edge of a dark pit with my fingers dug into the ground, clawing, while something clung to my legs and pulled me into the darkness. I hadn't realized my decline wasn't caused by the shitty economy, but it was caused by my life of wants and gets. It finally caught up to me, all of those years of assuming everything would be there.

After dozens upon dozen of people donated their money, their time and their passion to help keep me afloat--essentially holding on to my arms while I was falling into a pit--there wasn't any use any longer. I slid into that dark hole.

That year I lost my apartment, stopped paying my credit card bills, didn't have the money to make my car payments, and lost years of valuable items in my first storage unit. I ran out of my apartment in a frenzy. I left behind my furniture, my plates, my forks, my clothes. I left a lot of things behind--I left everything behind. My storage unit was auctioned with my entire childhood collection of everything being sold to some stranger. I'll never know what happened to my entire Nancy Drew collection. I'll probably rebuy it back on eBay one day and not even know it.

I took out a second storage somewhere else to throw in all of the rest I could drag out of the apartment while running with one shoe on and one in hand. And then I fled. George and I fled. We were taken in, we were fed, we were loved. And then the opportunity didn't exist any longer, and we fled again. Chasing dreams, chasing grandeur, chasing a past we desperately wanted back. What we got was a whole lot of self-slaps to the face and a confrontation with reality. To us, sleeping in the living room on an air mattress in a place that cost so little to live was a dream. I learned to cook and fed us well on the meager allowance we had. It would not last. We pretended and played make-believe as though it would manifest if we fooled ourselves into believing it would. It didn't, the dream faded and a final realization greeted us with a grim smile. I think it was a smile. And so we fled again, fled back to where it began with the hope that we learned everything we needed to survive.

You know where the story is going now, don't you?

I lost my second storage last week, despite the efforts that went into save it. Diaries, artwork, junk paper and credit card statements. Clothes, books and stacks of old bills. It was the last fragment of my life I was hanging onto--these things were auctioned to a stranger who will probably see me as a crazy pack rat and feel absurd for the twenty dollars they spent. As disappointed and sad as I was, maybe it was a sign of something I was meant to let go.

I am not the same person I was a year ago. A year ago, I took my money and flung it in every direction. I thought that helping people with my abundance of money and flinging around gifts like I was amazing automatically gave me a pass--it meant that I didn't take things for granted.

Just because you know other people have it worse than you, doesn't mean that you don't take things for granted. It just means you aren't being a shallow asshole about it.

I helped wherever I could, whenever I could. Random acts of kindness was a standard I lived by, and it continued to make me believe that "Hey, I'm helping out people in need! That means I know the value of money, and I'm compassionate." I never claimed to understand any situation anyone went through, but I didn't realize until much later that my perspective of what was the 'worst' situation was only backed up by my own experience. I didn't get it. I couldn't get it.

We eat once a day--it's all we can afford. It isn't much, but it's enough. We bought some bananas and went through the little cart that has stuff on sale that's about to spoil and bought 29 cent pudding pies. We don't have a refrigerator, we don't have a microwave, so our options are limited, but we still manage.

Today, we had three dollars left with no foreseeable income. After living on money from my commissions, we finally ran dry.

What was my first thought? My first feeling? "How am I going to earn money to survive?" and sadness. Not pity, not anger, not blame, shame or depression. Just sadness. Something so simple and so pure. Something so uncomplicated that I felt a sort of relief. It was an emotion I didn't have to sort through or figure out. There wasn't any tangled explanation to sort through or a mind-altering journey to figure out why I felt that way.

I was rescued. As I am rescued countless times by many, many people right when things look the most bleak. Right when I'm on the cusp of surviving. In those moments, I get it. I realize that I owe it to everyone who has helped me, everyone who has told me things will get better, everyone who has held my hand or listened to me cry, I owe it to them to make it and succeed far beyond anyone's wildest dreams. I now have my reasons to provoke me into being a better person--my reason to push me further and farther than I've ever known. It isn't because of my situation. It isn't because you can label me as poor or say I've lost almost everything. It isn't because I finaly know the RIGHT things to want and receive. It's because of all of the people who have said, "Juli, this will pass, things will get better--you were meant for greater things." I feel guilty sometimes because I don't think I can measure up to anyone's expectations. Some days I'm a little less optimistic than others and have to take each day as it comes.
But I'm happy. I am so happy and so lucky to have a place to live, someone to love me and so many people out there still grasping my hand, determined not to let me fall.

I've become fearless.

Strange rituals

2009-06-10T13:43:00.000-07:00

Today I had a hard copy of my first draft printed out. Office Max ate one of my pages though, so I'm sort of miffed. Sort of. I can't wait till I can afford a printer.

I wandered aimlessly through Barnes and Noble today. The book on my list wasn't available, so I spent about an hour and a half wandering around and generally having the worst case of indecision ever. I walked out with a Eoin Colfer and a Tamora Pierce Book.

I'm about to edit my hard copy. For some reason, it is a lot easier for me to read and compute the pages in my head when it's on paper. I don't know why--maybe that's just how I've always done it, and I have a hard time adjusting.

Before I write, I have to clear my mind almost entirely or else the apprehension of writing gets to me, and I stall until I've finally talked myself out of writing. Daunting. That's the one word I will continually use when referring to writing a book. It isn't just writing, it's editing, it's creating, it's everything. There is so much that goes into writing a book, sometimes I feel as though I'm sitting here with eight different directions to go in.

In order to forget about these things, I clear my mind entirely.

By playing a silly online game called Bread N Butter. HEEE. Taho on deviantART got me hooked, and I adore it. It's not fun when you realize you need actual money to unlock goods and products, but for the ten minutes I need to clear my mind, it's perfect. You can check it out here.

Maybe I'll find a new diversion. Maybe not. Until then, I'll serve my customers and aim to please!

It's practice, you know?

2009-06-04T21:37:00.000-07:00

As I continue to write more and more of this novel, the intensity of anxiety I feel changes dramatically. It isn't any pattern, but it follows my mentality. My perception increasingly changes how I feel about the novel and how I write it.

Prior to beginning my novel, I spent a lot of time writing short stories and writing poetry. I wanted to learn how to make every single word count.

I spent a lot of time reading and researching magazines and publications to submit to. I also received a few rejection slips and felt entirely proud that I made it that far.
Feeling satisfied with my first dips back into writing, I set aside the poetry and the short stories to be revised and moved on to flesh out one of my novel ideas.

Prior to beginning my novel, I spent a couple months researching the business. I wanted to make sure I knew what I was getting myself into and what to do when I finally got there. I lingered on editors' blogs, agents' blogs and authors' blogs. I took in every tip, listened to every bit of advice and soaked up everything.

When I wrote my first words of my novel, I realized I was setting off on an entirely new journey unrelated to all of the aforementioned. Speaking with my good friend, we both came to the conclusion that the first hurdle to jump over was finishing a first draft. Forget all notions of a grand career, forget even thinking about how the revision process would go, forget about my crappy synopsis and my nonexistent query letter--just write.

And I did.

I struggled through the battles of knowing whether I was good enough. I fought with my story, wondering if it, too, was good enough. I wrestled with the idea of how long this journey would take, and I constantly weighed the pros and cons.

Now, at a mere 20k words, I can say that the experience has been incredibly rewarding. I have learned so many things.

I'm beginning to understand how to write (almost) lively characters--ones with great personality that leap off of the page. Identifiable characters.

I know that making it to the conclusion of this story is the most important goal to set for myself, and I need to make sure that I can make it to the end telling it as honestly and pure as I can manage. I don't need to juice up my writing with things I don't understand or things I don't really understand just because I've seen someone else do it.

I believe that this is practice. It is a stepping stone to greater things. Finishing a book is amazing, but the journey there is more valuable than anyone will ever know. This book, this lovely book I'm investing my life in, it is practice. The chances this book will see the light of day before my second is slim to none.

Yes, I believe in the story, I believe in the characters, and I believe in my writing ability.

I know, however, I have so much MORE to learn. Things that I can't take notes on--things that happen subconsciously.

I've seen the transformation already. This feeling creeps up sometimes, when I'm really 'on,' and I just KNOW when things are right and when they are wrong. I've cut and rewritten scenes entirely on these feelings--they just don't feel authentic.

I'm remembering what it's like to be excited to write. What it's like to love what I write, and imagine and dream and create it.

It's practice, you know? This novel... it's done more for me than any extra writing class or any 'dummies' book. The advice I've learned from writers, readers, agents and editors is invaluable... but it means nothing until it's put into action.

Somehow, knowing that I don't have to believe this book will be my bread and butter makes the idea of writing it so much more appealing. I can write my best possible novel (at this point in my life) with no pressure.

I like it.

Before I go off to hit my next writing goal, I'd like to point to a great blog entry from Janet Reid (a literary agent) on when it's too soon to query.Check it out.

Love you all. I hope you're off doing something you're passionate about. I'm going to re-read my first-first novel (unfinished at around 23 chapters) that I started writing when I was fourteen. It's horrible, but the passion and inspiration is undeniable. A little jolt of inspiration.

<3333

Layers of writing

2009-06-03T14:56:00.000-07:00

I've learned so many things through my writing journey, and I find that the most important thing I've learned in the last few months was how to develop my own style, my own routine and figure out how things work for me.

Reading a lot of advice from other people is a good start to find a direction and develop a path. There have been things I've taken and tossed away, and things I've held onto and used continuously.

My writing pattern is more regular now, and I'm also realizing that my storytelling is basically laying the foundation first, put the bare story out. As things progress and I'm able to continue forward, I can begin to put more and more layers of story and excitement down--essentially making the story something special.

About to break 20,000 today. I can't wait.

I'm making gumbo

2009-05-28T11:43:00.000-07:00

I think I realized why I've begun to enjoy cooking so much in the last six months. Cooking, real honest to good cooking, leaves you plenty of time to think while you're chopping vegetables, searing meat and picking out spices. It's been a calming thing, and it's funny that I would find that kind of peace in something I never really did before.

Making gumbo tonight. Faux gumbo. I've found a bunch of recipes, so I'm just sort of mashing my favorite parts from all of them into one ginormous recipe.

I've been writing every day and meeting my word count. Today I have to write 2,000 words, but I think I'm going to comb through my 26 printed pages and grab a red pen. I'm coming to a point where I'm satisfied with my storytelling enough to continue writing. It's possible that the reason I had a hard time writing my novel was because things just weren't flowing properly. I've been focusing a lot on authentic dialogue and making sure everything is... honest. I do realize I need to go back and show, not tell, in a variety of places, but my skill set isn't up to par yet. In 10,000 words I'll go back and see if I can't make it all even better.

2,000 words to write tonight.

Dreams, Writing, Confusion

2009-05-25T12:04:00.000-07:00

Today was utterly odd and disconnected. There are so many things floating around, so many things to get done, but I can't focus for the life of me. I've been wandering around the house doing half-completed tasks before I drop what I'm doing to stand around and stare blankly into the wall. Or a door. Or the universe. I'm not sure what I'm staring at, but the fact that I'm blanking out at all scares me. I'm questioning my sanity at this point.

I can't tell what it is from. The dynamics of my life haven't settled or become regulated. Nothing is normal, nothing is comfort zone. I don't mind it, I like every day being amazingly different than the last, but I can't help but feel like I'm grasping at straws to keep things together. Mentally, emotionally. I think I'm falling apart.

Falling apart isn't the snap in the midst of something exciting/angering/frightening where you lose it.

Falling apart is a quiet sort of fellow that follows you after all of the ruckus and waits around till you have a quiet moment. It doesn't involve thinking, in fact, it's the opposite. It involves not being able to think at all. It involves mindless staring into space and then when you realize it's happening you fold--crumble--into a pile where you try and figure out what exactly is going on.

I'm trying to figure out exactly what is going on. I'm trying to assign blame to everything I can, really just pawning off this thing called 'Falling Apart' on scapegoats like George's health, being on the borderline between life and failure for so long, traumatic moments where my foundation was going to crumble and I'd have nothing. Things like not being able to finish commission work (and getting odd pokes and prods from people who deserve their work sooner than later) because I don't have the money to buy the supplies/send the work. Things like not being able to write my novel because I'm thinking about all of the aforementioned. ADD. Recovering from destitution. Being afraid for my future (even though it's brighter than it has been).

None of those things caused things to fall apart for me mentally. I've grinded through them all, so to assign the blame for this confusion to any of those things doesn't feel satisfying. It's empty, and it leaves me with more questions and faulty answers like, "I guess it's just me."

Then I wonder if it's really 'Falling Apart' at all. Or if it's just me transitioning into a new phase. It makes sense? I've been able to write more freely than ever before, write with more passion. Things will become successful financially with a little more time, and I'm settling into my new home day-by-day.

I think I've used positivity as a combatant against all of the negative things that have happened... so now that I don't really much to be negative about (either because the problems have been solved or they are moot to me now) I don't know how to be positive? It sounds silly, maybe, but it could be why I'm stuck in this neutral state of mind. It could be why I'm so confused and can't seem to get a handle around things mentally rendering my emotional state confused as well.

I've been having great dreams lately. They never make sense, unless presented to me in a full story/novel form, but they have had worthwhile bits that I could write down in my dream log. I hope that I'll be able to incorporate them into something, no matter how surreal they are. Some of these things are fantastic.

Writing has been amazing. My characters are starting to come alive and I'm FINALLY feeling like they aren't just characters--they are real people now. Almost 9,000 words, and I don't see any sign of stopping.

'Crowns' is starting to take flight, and I thought it would be neat to provide a little bit of information about the story and the characters :D

'Crowns' isn't a fairy tale, it isn't a cinderella story, but it does have a Queen and a princess, both of who want entirely different things. Our princess wants to live in the stories she writes, for her mother, keeps her under lock-and-key, so she can complete her agenda.

There isn't a prince, but there is a young man who is forced to chase the dream of becoming a prince, a King, by his father whose plans to catapult his family into the Ruling Crown blinds him from what seeing he wants and understanding what he needs.

Love, treachery, death--it all exists, and hopefully I can weave it together into an engaging story. The characters deserve their stories to be told well.

The cast:

The Queen
Elinor (the Princess)
Eric (the Nobleman)
Tobin (the Nobleman's son)
Alastair (a friend to the Nobleman)

There are a lot of secondary characters, and I have yet to find how big or small of a part they will play.

Lilah (maid from the Nobleman's house)
Esther (servant from the Ruling Crown's household)
Mary Sue (servant and daughter of Esther)
Marigold (Tobin's lover)

That's all I'll say for now--I don't want to commit to saying anything that may (and will) ultimately change.

<3 Love you all!

My reading list for 2009 thus far:

1. On Writing - Stephen King
2. Faerie Wars - Herbie Brennan
3. The Purple Emperor – Herbie Brennan
4. Playing for Pizza – John Grisham
5. You are so Undead to me - Stacey Jay
6. Ruler of the Realm – Herbie Brennan
7. Inkheart – Cornelia Funke
8. Inkspell – Cornelia Funke
9. Forest of Hands and Teeth - Carrie Ryan
10. Treasure Island - Robert Louis Stevenson
11. The Color of Magic - Terry Pratchett
12. The Light Fantastic - Terry Pratchett
13. The Faerie Lord- Herbie Brennan
14. Hardboiled Wonderland and the End of the World - Haruki Murakami (In progress/second reading)
15. Neverwhere - Neil Gaiman (In progress)

Another book, NaPoWriMo, Crowns on Hold

2009-04-18T12:44:00.000-07:00

10. Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson

Ah, this was a good book. It took me three real tries to get into it, but I finally did and really loved all of the characters. I'm always amazed at how writers can bring characters to life. And that's one first person narrator book that I couldn't even tell. Win.

I'm behind on National Poetry Writing Month, but you can see my current entries on http://sayfarewell.deviantart.com -- Planning on catching up a little today.

Crowns, my book, is on hold for now. I've been scouting out places to write it, and I think I should be ready soon. I'm working hard to get all of these commission obligations off of my chest. Gah. I can't wait till I'm caught up.

<3

FHT; It is hard to write a novel.

2009-04-01T15:33:00.000-07:00

9. The Forest of Hands and Teeth - Carrie Ryan

I finished this book in about a day. I think I am continually thrown off by these first-person narrative perspective books, but ultimately FHT was a wonderful book. It was dark, moving, contemplative and so much more. I'll go ahead and consider myself a fan of Carrie Ryan, and I'm looking forward to the next book out in 2010.

And I'm continuing to solidify my first four chapters. I'm reworking chapter two, and I'm mildly satisfied with the progress made with one. It really is an artform, and it is so easy to second guess yourself. I want to finish going through chapter two and three today and then finish chapter four.

I've finally compiled all of my notes for this Crowns into one tiny notebook. It's organized, has a pink cover and plenty of blank pages. Hopefully, not for long.

Book List & Novel Writing

2009-03-31T01:29:00.000-07:00

It's amazing how you can feel so satisfied with a mere 500 words. Some nights I feel like I'm writing a thousand words of garbage. Other nights, like tonight, a couple hundred really amazing words make up for the garbage. It is an artform like I've never known before. Constantly extracting words and replacing them. Moving them around like a puzzle.

Tomorrow will be a test to see how far I'm going to take it. I know I have a good four thousand words inside of me. It sounds like a lot, but I'm going to go through chapters two through four to see if I can't flip them into something magical like I did with Chapter one tonight.

I'm nicknaming my novel 'Crowns' for now. I have a placeholder title that I don't really like, but this nickname will help distinguish between other projects I'm working on.

--

On reading books:

I'm greatly amused. I finished Inkspell tonight and began reading the new debut from Carrie Ryan. My reading list for 2009 thus far:

1. On Writing - Stephen King
2. Faerie Wars - Herbie Brennan
3. The Purple Emperor – Herbie Brennan
4. Playing for Pizza – John Grisham
5. You are so Undead to me - Stacey Jay
6. Ruler of the Realm – Herbie Brennan
7. Inkheart – Cornelia Funke
8. Inkspell – Cornelia Funke

Eight books. And some were huge. I am amused because these eight books are more books than I've read in 2008 and 2007 combined. I did pick up reading again in 2008, but the last few years have been so dry. I can't wait to read Ryan's book, and I have the Discworld series (books 1 and 2) waiting for me afterwards. It's wonderful to read again.

Yes.

2009-03-21T00:32:00.000-07:00

YES. Today was breakthrough. Lots of scene breakdowns, motivations, conflicts, plot twists. Today was epic. I have enough direction to get me through about 10,000 more words. Yes. Win.

Starting WC this morning: 3503

Ending WC: 6117

Bedtime an hour early tonight. Can't wait for tomorrow

Tumultuous Night

2009-03-20T00:51:00.000-07:00

My night was pretty bad.

But it forced me to rethink my stance on certain things, and rearrange my priorities. It's almost three in the morning (George has to be up in three hours) and I'm trying to squeeze in as much writing as I possibly can right now.

I miscalculated my original word total from my novel because, initially, I had more words. I forgot that I had gone back and edited out (condensed) quite a few things.

1500 was my true word count.

Final count for the night:

A little over 2,000 words with a very weary mind. <3

Short Stories, Poems and Novels

2009-03-19T14:03:00.000-07:00

It's taken me a week to get into the mindset to write again.

And.

I'm going to start writing again. I want to go through my old work from two months ago and re-edit them all. Doors was rejected by Jabberwocky, so I'm going to spend some time and re-edit it, and try and add as much dimension and conflict as possible. It's pretty confusing and doesn't make a whole lot of sense, so a new ending is in order. My short story Hearse for my Heart is still out, but I really want to just edit it--it definitely isn't ready for publication.

I also want to focus on some poetry. I need to re-learn the meaning and impact of words and word choice.

My novel has started, I think I posted about that earlier, but I'm going to throw a word count meter on here to show my progress daily.

I need to remember that my editing eye needs to be limited if I'm ever going to finish the novel.

I'm reading Inkspell by Cornelia Funke, and I picked up some Pratchett and Carrie Ryan's debut, In the Forest of Hands and Teeth.

It's gotten some great reviews, and I can't wait to read it! :]

Sorry this post has been so monotone, but I think it's just me listing what I need to do today. :D

Free time

2009-02-27T13:50:00.000-08:00

A lot of free time, when your mind is tied up, means a lot of time for reading books. I finished the Stacey Jay book and it was pretty darn good! It was interesting, new and very different from the normal teen books that have been coming out--refreshing!

I also got my hands on, and read, the third book in the Faerie Wars series. I can't wait to read the last one.

My favorite book this year, I can tell 30 pages in, is Inkheart. Funke has an amazing storytelling ability. I'm sad I didn't pick up her books sooner.

I also... started my own novel. Finally. I'm 3,000 words in, and I have a long way to go. The 3,000 words are really rough, but I started. After months of planning and thinking, I couldn't think of a better time to start.

I'll have more on that later. xD

Love you guys and gals

Write, damnit.

2009-02-18T14:13:00.000-08:00

Well. Here I am in Texas. It isn't where I thought I'd be, but we never where we thought we'd be. In any meaning of the word "where."

I need to start writing--I don't have excuses. I have a laptop, and it's propped open on the kitchen table waiting for me to type on it. I want to say that the whole world shifting and the fact that I'm still getting my grips on moving is a good excuse, but it isn't.

Maybe writing today.

I finished The Purple Emperor (Herbie Brennan, Book 2 of Faerie Wars) and even Playing for Pizza by John Grisham.

I'm appreciating the Faerie Wars books for it's intricate plot details. There are seven or eight things always going on at the same time, and interwoven almost flawlessly.

John Grisham's book was boring. I'm sure there were a lot of metaphorical scenes and people, but overall it was a feel good book that told a story but was really unexciting. Maybe not my type of book.

Reading Stacey Jay's You are So Undead to Me. She debuted this first book this year, and I'm excited to read it. :3 http://staceyjayya.blogspot.com/

More later

Five hours

2009-02-14T22:47:00.000-08:00

I spent a great deal of the day packing things up for my move. I'm worried, scared, excited, scared and a little more scared. Despite all of the packing, I was able to write a little bit for my short story 'Red Meat,' transfer more stuff from paper to my laptop, and wrote about 1,000 words for my trucker romance novel. Laugh, Trebor, I dare you. But I did. I DID.

The last five hours of my night were spent in bed with George. SHUT UP. I know what you are thinking. Valentine's day... alone in the house...

Nope. We READ. For five hours! I'm blissful right now. We had snacks, took a break and got some fast food, ate and read. It was amazing.

George is currently reading Playing for Pizza by John Grisham

Juli is currently reading The Purple Emperor by Herbie Brennan (book 2 in the Faerie War series)

Laptop

2009-02-13T12:05:00.000-08:00

Since I received my laptop from John, RetroZombie on dA, I've been trying to transfer all of my notes and things from my huge writing binder to a digital format. It's slow going, but it's exciting. I think I should be set to write soon. Maybe a trip to Barnes and Noble? I picked up Faerie Wars by Herbie Brennan and I finished it, so I feel obligated to continue the series. I'm not sure how I feel about it yet. We'll see.

Rejection #1

2009-02-12T21:00:00.000-08:00

I spent the end of December and most of January getting a few short stories done. Most of them have undergone complete transformations, and all of them are still pretty much halfway 'finished.' Yeah, there is a beginning, a middle, and an ending, but they are so far from feeling right that I know I'll spend the rest of February trying to make sense of them.

I got my first rejection letter from the publication 'Jabberwocky.' I'm cool with it--I was expecting a rejection, and I'm glad I have my first one under my belt. I haven't figured out where to put it. Stephen King put them all up on a nail on the wall. Some people put them in shoe boxes.

Mine is just sitting there for now. I like it. It signifies many more rejections to come. But eventually it won't be a rejection. I'm shooting for about 100-200 rejections. It feels really funny because this is all just a practice.

A) I need to get in the habit of accepting rejection and criticism. There is no ego when you are starting out in the writing business.

B) I need to learn how to write.

I'm going to focus on my short stories and poetry through March and April, and then, come May, I'm going to put my nose to the grindstone and pound out my first novel. I have four options, but I think I've narrowed it down to two. We'll see.

<3333

New

2009-01-02T17:55:00.001-08:00

I've used livejournal and a few other applications before, but since it's the new year, I thought it would be nice to start a new journal here. :D