Nanowrimo 2013

Nanowrimo 2013 is over, and I am happy to say that I was a part of it. Everyone involved with making this project so special should be given an award promptly.

I know this is going to sound ridiculously cheesy, but I am so incredibly thankful for everyone I get to connect with join nanowrimo. It’s so incredibly inspiring to see other writers seemingly do the impossible and also support you join the process. I have never met my writing buddies, but every year seeing their progress spurs me on, and I am so incredibly proud when I  get to see their bars turn into purple winners ones. This community is awesome, and it’s something I really miss throughout the year. 

This has been a hard month for me in lots of different ways - and in a shock turn of events - writing has actually allowed me to keep my sanity through it. (I know, right? Who would have thought?)

To the people who wrote 600 words to the people who wrote 60 thousand, be proud of yourself. This month you gave yourself the goal of creating something new, and regardless of how small or how big that thing is, you still did it. It doesn't matter what your end word count is, it matters that you allowed your imagination to really take a hold of it’s self. You’re all goddamn superheroes <3

 I’m definitely suffering the post wrimo- blues and I will miss the countless word sprints on twitter, the incredibly inspiring pep talks being delivered straight to your email, and the general buzz that you aren't doing it alone. 

it’s like, ”wow! you can finally watch new TV shows! you can make plans to see your friends! you can catch up on your work! YOU CAN HAVE YOUR LIFE BACK!” and you just instantly miss your unwashed greasy self slumped over your laptop with a cup of coffee.  It’s insanity but I love it.

This year I end my novel Shake The Stars From Your Skin at 56, 289 words.

To  the next year.

The Thing About Things (is that they make you write a blogpost)

Two posts in one day?  What in the hell.

So four months ago I promised my friend Uroosa I would dedicate a blogspot to her because it was her birthday. Happy birthday to one of my best buds, Uroosa. Sorry it is now nearly June.

Uroosa was one of the first people I became friends with at the beginning of high school. I remember thinking she was really shy until one day in our year seven music class she asked to be my partner. I don't think anyone has ever laughed so much at the DJ function on a keyboard like our year seven selves did. Nostalgia, I believe, is one of the best human emotions the human brain has accumulated. I love the idea of it being unique to one person - one thing, for example, a piece of music could be a catalyst for all the sadness a person experienced at a time period in their life.  Sounds in people's ears act as a way of channelling time and memories. That is so, so wonderful. And to another person, that same piece of music is a catalyst for all their previous happiness. Nostalgia is entirely subjective, and I love that.

Recently, Amanda Palmer released a song called ''The Thing About Things.'' It's beautiful; simple, raw and emotional - the song details Amanda's experience with objects in her life gaining sentimental value. It struck multiple heart strings for me.  The reasons being is because I'm exactly the same when it comes to objects. I am a self confessed hoarder due to nostalgia. I love having things that remind me of the person I am, things that reflect my personality. And getting rid of things that do that is hard. It's like getting rid of a little bit of me.   You can listen to it here. I strongly suggest you do.

Recently, I created my own memory box. In this was dumb little box are anecdotes which I can take with me in my life's journey, as a way of satisfying the ever present nostalgia I have. Things like concert tickets, cards my friends have got me, etc - quirky things I've picked up along the way. My mother, who noticed I had made it, then decided to give me a bunch of objects which she says have sentimental  value. At first I thought they would be the same type of objects  I was collecting -  semi useless, scratty looking things. But when I looked in the box she gave me,  I was seriously so overwhelmed.

She gave me her wedding ring. My parents are not together, nor have they been for a long time. This doesn't bother me, nor did it ever bother me as a child, but looking back in a way it kind of sucked not getting to know what they were like as a couple. They were together for quite a long time and did lots of cool things like live in Australia together. It's weird to think I'll never fully understand that. Only through a series of half spoken tales and old photographs do I really learn about my parent's relationship. I mull about what my life would be like if my parents were together, but move on when I realize it doesn't so much matter anyway. It's j nice to know my mother trusts me to keep that half spoken memory by giving me the ring.

She gave me the first  pendant from Louis' collar when we first got him. My dog has been a huge part of my life. Not only offering my companionship, I really have learnt how to care for something. I've not been exposed to children that much, nor anyone who has been in a vulnerable situation and required my deep level of care, so with Louis - as a dog, who needs a little bit of the human's help, has taught me essentially the ability to look after something. He's also just a total babe in every way and I love him so much.

She gave me the only things of her Father's that she has, a coin which he used to carry around, and a letter he sent to his brother join the war. I've never met anyone outside of my immediate family, nor do we discuss our family history too much, but I always ponder what it would be like to meet them - in a Doctor Who-esque way, I'd travel back in time and I'd pretend to be someone who doesn't matter to them, and just watch them go about their daily life. Having the letter, and this weird mysterious coin in my possession can only be described as overwhelming. I really feel  the  history interwoven in them when I pick them up. My mother also, similarly, gave me beads which belonged to my father's grandma. In a really strange way, having these objects fulfils the fact  I never got to meet them. It provides me with a sense of their character, and creates an odd but truly unique connection between them and I.

She gave me a lot of other things, too, but those are the ones that stand out to me. The box is now not only a selection of my history, but the histories of others, too. Because That's the Thing About Things, they can start to mean things, nobody actually said.

I'll be doing BEDJ next month. I wanted to do Blog Everday in April, but alas I didn't have enough time in April so I'm doing it in june. Kinda like the ring BEDJ has more, anyway.  See you around next time, folks.

''I'm back!'' she cried, as alas, they reached the shore.

I'm sorry for the abandonment blogspot. Shhh, blogspot. It will be better now. I'm here. Everything is OK.

There are plethora of different reasons as to why I've not had the time to write blogs - mostly, it comes down to it being exam season.  I finished my first year of sixthform last week and now, in a burst of inspiration, I'm finally going back to the things I did before exams had a hold of my life.

 It's a weird feeling when you finish exams. While you're going through them, your only motivation to soldier through is that you know it's not a permanent time period in your life. When they are over, you don't have to think about anything that comes alongside with them. You don't need to look at revision guides, or time tables, or sticky notes  - you free yourself from the mantra of 'eat, sleep, and breathe revision.' It's actually kinda funny how much you crave to get to that stage where you are no longer programming your mind for a two hour paper.

Then, when you get to that sweet-no-exam-worry time period in your life, it's just like - well, ok. But what the hell do I do now?

Exams are a rocky road for me, and always have been. I've always hated them, particularly the impact they have on my mindset. Although I'm fully aware that they don't decipher your worth as a person, I find myself being paralysed by the cloud of self-deprecation over my inability to complete exams. To put it simply, I hate when I cannot do things that other people my age can do, and I hate when I cannot do things to the best of my abilities. It's an especially dumb and immature mindset of mine when you consider that A) Other people's abilities are not your own, nor will they ever be your own (funny, isn't it? how we all have different  brains and stuff. Kinda freaky) and, B) what you think is the best of your abilities often clouds over your actual abilities, this being  due to a combination of pride, arrogance, and pressure from others. It's awful when you're sitting in a class with people who all seem to have this easy ability to conform their learning to what the teacher wants. In my Drama class, for example, the teacher set on average around three essays a week. Now - without trying to sound braggy - Drama is a subject I've prized myself on. It's something I've had devout passion and dedication to throughout my years in education, whether that being due to projects,  classwork, or school productions, it's just been a huge part of my life.

 However, even with this dedication - on average, I did one essay, like, every two weeks. When you have all this built up dedication to something, and then it ends up that actually, your dedication is kinda inadequate - it really, really sucks. The thing which you have been priding yourself on then becomes something which you feel bad about it. An then, naturally, you start to compare. And, also, the pride comes tumbling in.  Why do I suck so much when the other people around me don't? What do they have which is so much better?  One of my close peers is someone who is really good at completing classwork. She does it on time, to a good standard, completes it with a plan - files it away in her folder after the teacher's marked it. Not only did I find myself comparing my inadequateness to her capabilities, but I found myself slightly hating her for it. This is a unhealthy mindset I adopt, unwillingly, due to exams.

So, how do you stop yourself from going into a bad mindset, I hear you ask, and  also not let things get to you?

To be perfectly honest, I'm not so sure. You've just got to remember that your abilities can cater elsewhere. You may not be able to churn out a mass amount of essays per weeks, but hey, you can preform a sweet piece of theatre - or  devise an awesome set of workshops. Am I using Theatre Studies as analogy to self motivation? You bet yo' ass I am.

Ideas + Future

My brain is scattered and fragmented but  is also mixed with good intention.

I have all these ideas that I want to do yet no clear way on how to conduct them with conviction.

Idea one: This idea was created in my English Language class. We have to do coursework that is inspired by a 'style model'. A style model is essentially a piece of literature/text (e.g magazine, short story, monologue etc). The whole idea of our coursework is that we imitate a style model, by creating our own text and using all the conventions of the style model we have chosen. My teacher, who's head is so-in-the-sky-she-can-see-a-nebula, (she's crazy) happen to use my sister's work as the SHINING EXAMPLE OF WHAT WE SHOULD DO. It's understandable, because my sister's work was really good. But also semi soul destroying for me, because now (being the child I am) I just want to match it and come up with a really cool idea.

Miss mentioned 'travel writing' as a style model, and I though ooh interesting - way to cure my wanderlust & channel my inner Bill Bryson. I don't want to talk about hotels and where you can take your kids, however. I want to talk about the people in the places. How the life in the city moves, thinks, and feels. Inspired by the heavily popular blog humansofnewyork, a project done by a photographer where he takes a photo of a passerby in the city of New York and has a small conversation with them. I also am heavily inspired by John and Hank Green's youtube series called ''Thoughts From Places'' which, as you guessed, is John and Hank narrating their thoughts from places in video form. I plan to talk about my own quirky tales and also speak to inhabitants of Leeds to find their own personal stories.


Idea two: Again another project tied in with school, or at least I think, the details are slightly scarce at the moment. It's play writing and if judges(?) like my play it could get preformed in the national theatre (which is totally awesome, visited it this summer) but I don't know  even if our school is going ahead with it. Either way, here is my idea. I want to play on the idea of home, and what it means - but do it in abstract silly way for children. I like the idea of playing with senses and using a lot of Boal's techniques. So far I have a main protagonist,  a girl, who is lost and is awoken and doesn't understand who or where she is. Her only quest is to get home. But what is home anyway? She doesn't recall. All she knows is she has to find it. In this world, people don't understand innate human life. They know what things are, they just don't know what to do with them. She meets Tarquin, a clumsy keeper of all things emotional, that spilled all his sadness among the town of Aromaton. Tarquin's job is to travel around each city and hand out the correct qaunities of each emotion that he keeps in jars - Tarquin is heavy footed and ended up dropping his sadness jar, spilling it everywhere, leaving the entire town in melancholia. The girl informs Tarquin that she can't help him because she needs to find home and Tarquin promises her he will take her home if she helps him. They travel there,and the girl informs the town that they don't need jars to feel things, it's natural, and the whole-sadness-jar-spilling is purely placebo. The town are in disbelief until one man starts uncontrollably laughing without the requirement of jars. They meet characters, mimble, nimble, thumble and gumble, quadruplets that cause a copious amount of trouble and they show tarquin and the girl a daisy that has been chained. The Daisy has been chained for being too sunny  in a world of sadness.


Idea Three: Short film. I just need to start making films! I can't take such an active interest in it and have nothing to show as my own. I had an idea about a escapist mime who falls in love with a man.

I'll keep you posted on how they progress.