For some reason, writing is eluding me, but music is stubborn and this song tugged at me today. Maybe I am channeling a character, maybe it’s the gloomy weather outside, I don’t know. But here you go.
NaBloPoMo Day 17: The Fiction of Relationships
Author’s Note: Edited, revised, and updated on 11-18-2015. That first draft was quite rough. Thank you for wading through this all with me.
I am an avid roleplayer. I have been roleplaying — tabletop and larp — for the past ten years. Nowadays, my gaming is largely restricted to online forum games but that is still fun as it affords me a writing outlet. There is one that I have been in for the past almost-five years: a Hero System-based X-men rpg entitled “Legacy” where the children of superheroes from both the Marvel and DC universes come together at Xavier’s School for the Gifted to learn to manage their abilities, use them wisely, and, yes, become heroes. I play a young “muggle-born” (in other words, her parents aren’t named superheroes) mutant named Elizabeth Martin and I have played her from an in-character age of fourteen to almost seventeen. And, yes, Zoe Saldana is my character model. Over the past few days, I have found myself reading back through the first scenes, the beginnings of her story years ago. There are 32 pages of bookmarked scenes on my account, ones I have participated in as well as others that concerned her or characters to whom she was tightly bound. And one thing that has always struck me about her is her relationships with other characters, friendly and otherwise.
Betsy has perhaps had the most romantic entanglements of any female character in the game, each of them unique in their own situations and ways. Roleplay like this is an incredibly organic form of writing for me, where my character can change, grow, and surprise me based on her interactions with other characters, plot, and situations within the game. I am able to be startled, surprised, horrified, elated by the things that Betsy does and chooses, how she falls and grows. I have been re-reading and, therefore re-living, some of her romantic relationships and I have happened upon some key differences between them that have struck and clarified some things for me as her writer.
Yes, I Ask.
Some people would probably say that a “good” Christian doesn’t question God. Well, if that’s the case, I’m fine with the “good” left permanently off any description of me as a Christian, because I most certainly do question God. However, it might not be in the vein that you are expecting. I don’t question God and cry out, “Why is this happening to me?” No. I did that before and I got my response, so that’s not a question I need answered anymore.
No, what I ask is: “Why is this happening to them?”
NaBloPoMo Day 16: The Morning To-Do
I have a large planner on my kitchen table where I outline each month for myself and the family and then, on each separate day, I outline what needs to be done and all that for myself. Sections are labeled like “To Do (yellow)”, “Chores (green)”, and “To Mail (blue)”. I also have a “Personal (pink)” checklist for myself every day just for me. It usually looks something like this:
- Quiet time
- Workout
- Shower
- Drink Water
- Write/blog
- Read
- Gym (on certain days)
I will say that when I can get those first four done successfully with no interruptions (which is about half the time), I can feel excellent to start my day. They are specifically intended for the morning, before my girl gets up and about and life gets busy. The rest can be spread throughout the day and the gym usually comes last in the evening a few times a week. Some days, though, if things have been particularly busy and trying, my personal checklist just looks like this:
- REST!
NaBloPoMo Day 15: Write It All
“And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.” — Sylvia Plath
A friend sent me that quote after a conversation we had pertaining to creativity and writing. I hesitate to proclaim anyone without creativity, regardless of their protestations. Everyone has a creative touch, whether it be artistic, musical, dramatic, literary, epistolary, physical, athletic, or oratorical.
I tend to write about everything. In way or another, I write it out. I do not always like what I write and I surely do not share it all publicly (the stack of journals speaks to that), but I still write it. My writing is a space of vulnerability for me. My soul flows openly through written and typed words. I’m not a bad speaker, not at all really, but I feel freer when I write. Freer with my feelings, freer with my opinions, freer with my words, and freer with my creativity. Do I still doubt my courage? Yes, sometimes. I fear that my words, however personal and well-intentioned they may be, will cause offense and backlash and whatever else. Do I still write? Yes. Being bold in my art and craft has proven good for my soul, no matter how scary it might be. Even when someone has disagreed with my writings or postings, I have managed to take a moment, express myself clearly, and I am then the better for having had the experience.
Writing about everything is not always so simply done as said. The English language is sometimes woefully bereft of the definite-rich vocabulary I need to accurately (I feel) express myself. But I still try, albeit a bit clumsily, to do so. Sometimes I have to make decisions about what to write about or to let sleep.
The other day, I opened my journal and saw where I had begun to write about an incident the night before and I had to make a decision: finish recording that incident, which honestly had a negative effect on my mood and soul when it had occurred and immediately afterward, or move on and let my writing flow through that day, to live in the now of that moment. I chose the latter for two reasons: One, I had already fleshed out my feelings on that incident with a trusted friend a few days beforehand so, really, I had written out that experience. And two, I wanted to enjoy my day out, my precious little time to myself when I could just let my mind wander wherever it dared to roam without being snapped back on the end of the leash that is often motherhood and adulting.
My lifespace is full of paper (literal and metaphorical), of writings, letters, stories, academic observations, literary reviews, and cards – encapsulated in Skype and Gchat conversations, emails, text messages, blog posts, journals, notepads, marginal annotations, idea books, and letters to the future. I write it all. I always have. And you can’t make me stop, which is a really good thing.
NaBloPoMo Day 14: Am I Written in the Stars?
I only know two of my zodiac signs: Taurus and the Pig/Boar (Chinese zodiac).
Taurus I have been familiar with since I was a kid; I would read my horoscopes at the back of the newspaper and magazines for fun and usually giggle at them. But I never prescribed any belief in them, truthfully. Doesn’t stop them from being fun, though.
For today’s writing topic, I reread a profile on Taurus, as well as one on the Pig/Boar. But, let’s deal with the bull first.
NaBloPoMo Day 13, Part 2: Art Threading Through Life
Today’s prompt: Put your music player on shuffle and write down the first three songs that play and what your initial thought is.
Pandora Channel – “Aladdin (Broadway)”
I am a huge lover of music and how the lyrics make me feel, what they remind me of, make me think about, etc. It’s almost impossible to separate my thoughts on a song from its lyrics.
- “No One Is Alone” – Into the Woods (2014)
Both: People make mistakes.
Baker: Fathers,
Cinderella: Mothers,
Both: People make mistakes,
Holding to their own,
Thinking they’re alone.
Cinderella: Honor their mistakes
Baker: Fight for their mistakes
Cinderella: Everybody makes
Both: One another’s terrible mistakes.
Witches can be right, Giants can be good.
You decide what’s right you decide what’s good
Cinderella: Just remember:
Baker: [Echo] Just remember:
Both: Someone is on your side
Jack, LRRH: OUR side
Baker, Cinderella: Our side–
Someone else is not
While we’re seeing our side
Jack, LRRH: Our side..
Baker, Cinderella: Our side–
All: Maybe we forgot: they are not alone.
No one is alone.
Someone is on your side
No one is alone.
I have never seen Into the Woods live, nor have I yet watched Disney’s cinematic rendition of it (even though I actually own it), though I did buy and watch the production with Bernadette Peters as The Witch with Ben for Valentine’s when we were dating. This is his favorite musical. He played the Baker in high school and has been in love with this challenging musical ever since. As such. I have learned a good number of the songs out of a sheer desire to share them with him. This song touches my heart in its reminder that we are never really alone, no matter how we feel we may be. There is always someone who is feeling similarly or who may understand you far more than you expect.
“Part of Your World” – The Little Mermaid
Look at this trove, treasures untold
How many wonders can one cavern hold?
Looking around here you’d think
Sure, she’s got everything
I’ve got gadgets and gizmos a plenty
I’ve got whozits and whatzits galore
You want thingamabobs? I’ve got twenty!
But who cares? No big deal,
I want more!
This was the first Disney song I remember memorizing and identifying with. I’m sure my friends thought I had everything a girl could want. But I did want more. I wanted real relationships, real friends, real adventures, a chance to see and affect the world. As I have grown, my dreams have tempered some but I still desire those deep relationships, friendships, adventures, and the chance to do good in the world around me.
“Almost There” – The Princess and the Frog
Mama! I don’t have time for dancing!
That’s just gonna have to wait a while
Ain’t got time for messing around
And it’s not my style
This old town can slow you down
People taking the easy way
But I know exactly where I’m going
Getting closer and closer every day
This was me when I was in school. When I headed off to college at seventeen, adults would frequently (and jokingly, I know) ask if I was going to get my MRS degree. It might have been a joke, but I felt my intelligence and ambition were insulted by it. So I would look them in the eye and say, “No, that’s not the point of college.” I had goals to achieve, ambitions to fulfill. And, true to my word, I earned my Bachelor’s degree in English Education and Master’s degree in Literature before I walked down the aisle with Ben.
NaBloPoMo Day 13: Walking Backward in Words
Last night, as my husband was working on setting up his post-apocalyptic city in “Fallout 4”, I sat on the floor of the den by his couch and opened a particular box. This box holds the dearest of my correspondence. Letters, cards, and photos, precious pieces of memory from friends, family, and loved ones. Stacks are held together by pretty ribbon, several cards or letters sometimes set together in the same envelope to save space. But I was in search of one letter in particular; it is coupled together with a candid photo of me and the woman whom I call my mentor, my “Frodo”.
Of all the years that we have known each other and the times that she has written to me, this is the only letter I have left. The others are probably packed away somewhere else that I cannot recall. So this is the only letter of hers that I currently hold in my close possession, and it is the most precious to me. This was a letter written to me for my wedding day. At the time, Erin was a missionary in Malawi and unable to make it back for my wedding (which broke my heart a little, I admit), but she sent this letter on ahead of herself, with instructions that it wasn’t to be opened until the day of my marriage ceremony. So I waited.
When I rolled out of bed on the morning of July 22, 2006, I reached over to the nightstand, where this letter sat waiting atop my journal. I opened it tenderly and devoured the words inside. It is two pages of plain paper, covered in words written in her lovely hand, and I could hear my beloved Adona’s (what equates to “Bosslady” in Chichewe) voice rising from those words to meet my ears. Even more so, though, I could feel her voice in my heart.
She wrote: “I wish you nothing but joy, Melissa, this day and always. I wish you trials and hard times to challenge you and Ben together. I wish you the simplicity of the moment. I wish you a grand adventure together, laughing, crying, and truly knowing each moment. For these things, and above all else for awareness of His Presence. I will continue to bathe you and Ben in prayer. And it is precisely these things for which I have no doubt — you will find them. You always have, since that first day I laid eyes upon you, and I saw a heart full of love and a life full of potential.”
This is an opinion of me that I have striven to live up to for the past, not only for Erin’s sake but for mine. To be the woman God created me to be, to show to others the love that He showered on me through Erin and other dear ones who have made such an impact on my life for so much the better. Erin saw what God was endeavoring to build in me long before I ever did and she guided me into ministry opportunities that have influenced me ever since.
Over the past almost-ten years, Ben and I have indeed had joys and trials, laughter and tears, and God has never left our sides, even when were stubborn and tried to do things on our own or our way. He has always been there, arms open to us and holding us tightly. And we have only just begun.
I sat and read and cried. I remembered and thanked God for my friend who, though still farther away than I would like, has done and continues to do so much good in my life. For her letter that got a beautiful day off to a memorable and tender start. And for her prayers that continue to follow and cover me day in and day out.
NaBloPoMo Day 12, Part 2: A Lady’s Journal Excerpted
Author’s Note: This is my journal entry from today as I sat alone in Panera Bread during lunchtime. It’s very stream of consciousness, I admit, but sometimes I just need to let my mind flow.
12 November 2015
Today is a most frabjous day! Today is my day out! A few hours all by myself! The little miss is out to luncheon with her grandparents so I can cavort by myself for a little bit. Of course, it’s only a few hours but I will take it!
So here I sit beside one of Panera’s big picture windows, watching the leaves dance around in the gales outside. Ladies bustle to and fro in lovely long sweaters, coats, and cardigans (of which I am one). Old friends are catching up at either table across from me. I just did my best Cho Chang expression and asked for a cheese pastie [though it was not a true pastie and just a cheese pastry, really]. And I am blessedly alone!
I am pretty in pastels and knee-high boots that lace in the back. My hair isn’t quite the fairy tale that it was yesterday, for being tousled and flirted with by nimble, windy fingers. (I am forcing myself to slowly down as I write this. There’s no need to rush right now.) I just watched a very handsome man with a handsome scarf exit his car and enter the restaurant. I just want to observe and record the world around me suddenly, the way I used to. It feels and tastes of winter outside, as if the Old Man’s reindeer are kicking up to be off on their heels. The air inside bites of too much cold for indoors right now. The sky is close and grey, thick like my favorite blanket. I just watched a leaf pirouette on the tip of its stem. My phone battery has run out; I really need a new one. That might be my Christmas request for this year. I find myself wishing to hear voices in the din, voices I know. I miss long lunches and longer conversations. Life can really get in the way sometimes, but I would never wish to change it. Too much risk and ingratitude in the wishing.
NaBloPoMo Day 12: Shades of Power and Beauty
A friend asked me my favorite colors the other day, for something she is making, and it took me almost a day to answer her, I think. Favoritism in respect to color is hard! Clothingwise, it really depends on the outfit and my mood at times. There are so many shades and so many reasons.
One of my favorite shades is pastel pink. It’s feminine and flirty and fun and it brings out the pink blush in my skin, my husband says. I think it does so in my cheeks. Put a white ribbon/headband in my hair and I feel all sorts of Betty Draper lovely.
I love maroon! It’s deep and rich and regal. It’s not as brazenly bold as red, maybe, nor dark enough to be too formal. But it’s heady wine shade makes me feel womanly, which is a power of its own.
Teal is cool, makes me feel mermaidy and fluid, like I can flow through anything, surmount any obstacle, or keep graceful under any stress. I usually pair it with black to round out the sultry side of the shade.
MWGS: Mom, Writer, Geek, Superwoman 