Second Novel: Turns Out, Not So Easy.

It’s not yet been a year since I experienced the pure joy of having pushed myself through finishing my first novel. I remember well what it felt like, and the Daria dvds that I bought myself as a reward sit on the chair next to me right now as a reminder. (By the way, if you want to know what I’m like in person, just watch Daria. We are so nearly one and the same.)

Earlier this evening as I was doing a mental re-cap of all of the things I’ve been juggling lately (freelance blogging, father in and out and in and out of the hospital, very sick dog, job search, remembering to feed the fish and change his water, personal relationships, health issues, a new medication schedule, exercise, sanity, just to name a few) I didn’t forget to chastise myself for not having made time to sit down and write a new blog post this week. I didn’t forget, either, to berate myself for letting another week go by in which I just didn’t get around to working on my novel. I feel awful about it. I really do. I’m at the point now where I think I might just be scared of how out-of-shape I am in my own novel. It’s been too long.

I saw something on Twitter tonight, re-posted by one of the many writerly accounts that I follow. It asked something to the effect of “Is the second novel easier?” And though I am exhausted and was just about to stand up and fall back into my bed, I knew that I had to stay and give a written answer to that, and that it had to be right here. Behold: my blog topic for the week!

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I Don’t Get People

Fair Warning: These are my thoughts and, where applicable, opinions. I’m not interested in fighting with people, which is why I’m writing this instead of fighting with them. Also, my train of thought might derail.

So Osama bin Laden is dead and we’ve known this now for, as I start this, about two hours.

Forget that the Phillies are, at 12:25 a.m., in the bottom of the 13th inning.

Whereas we as a country should be happy that the terroristic “mastermind” behind 9/11 has ceased to be and it was on America’s watch, we instead find ourselves divided by political parties. And I really can’t understand this, although I guess it isn’t altogether surprising. I applaud the Obama administration for gathering the intelligence and using it in a way that allowed the troops on the ground to effectively execute the command. I’d applaud any administration that did that.

But in the end, it goes beyond the Obama administration. Osama bin Laden is dead because of America. Not because of the sole actions of Democrats or Republicans.

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Some Things Never Change

Yesterday I wrote about how things need to change. Today I’m back to write about how some things never will (although they still need to). It’s tied in with Easter (to a degree)… and there are pictures. If you think my drawings are ridiculous at best now, you have to see my skills of an artist in second grade.

As my mom and I were decorating for Easter a few weeks ago, we discovered that one of our oldest decorations, a basket shaped like a rabbit that, for years, held eggs, had been damaged by stuff from our roof. Before we threw it out, we cleaned everything out of it. I love finding things from the past, things I’d forgotten all about or never remembered in the first place, so I was pretty pumped to find a letter that I’d written to the Easter Bunny when I was in second grade. Then I read the letter and thought to myself, “Wow. Our society is full of really awful people.” The letter was actually really sad.

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Turn and Face the Strange

Why is it so easy to get comfortable? We call ourselves proponents of change and say that we welcome it, but we settle into this state of happy lethargy and contentment. We might not be fine with where things are or where we are with them, but we’ll choose to be (or at least say we are) because it makes it easier and then we don’t have to think about it. When did it become favorable to never want to push ourselves or test our boundaries in any and all areas of our lives? Continue reading

On Why I Think Tina Fey Should Be My Best Friend

Oh, Frank. The neglect!

Well, readers, I’m really sorry that almost two weeks have gone by with no post. I’m going to apologize if I seem like I have wicked A.D.D. or if this is really rough. I’m easing back into writing. Building up my chops, if you will. Remember a few weeks ago when I said I’d had about the busiest week that an unemployed person could have? I lied. That was actually last week, carrying over into this week. And let me tell you, it wasn’t all very pretty. But I’m here now. And also, since I had a lot of time on my hands at the end of last week to sit and worry about something over which I had no control, I decided to read a book. My criteria for this book included being funny and being smart.

Enter Tina Fey.

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An Inadvertent Writing Lesson

Sometimes I could swear to myself that I wasn’t a creative writing minor in college. I could swear to myself, in fact, that I’ve never taken a fiction-writing class in my whole life. The basic fundamentals just seem to escape me every now and again, and I’m not sure what that means. Either I’ve internalized them to the point where they’re no longer always a noticeable cognitive step for me, or I’m just a really bad writer. Okay, I suppose there could be some middle ground there.

I don’t really remember how old I was exactly when my fascination with writing started. It was pretty early, maybe somewhere around first or second grade, and it began simply as a love of creating something. Even if I just wrote a bunch of nonsense or someone else’s song lyrics down on paper, I was already moving in that direction. And I did it because, at least on some level, I recognized that I wanted to emulate the people who wrote the books that I loved so much.

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Frank’s 30 Day Song Challenge…In One Day.

I didn’t post anything last week (call it about as busy as someone who has no real job can get). I’m making up for it by posting twice this week. One non-writing and one writing-related post. Ready? Break!

Every once in a while, a really good meme out there on the Interwebs will catch my eye. They usually have to do with either books or music or writers or something that doesn’t ask my favorite color and the name of my “bestie” (I’m on a crusade, by the way, to take that word out. I find it irritating when anyone over the age of 12 uses it and expects to be taken seriously). When I see those good ones (and they’re few and far between) I just can’t pass them up. This 30 Day Song Challenge is going around, so of course I wanted to participate. The problem is that I’m entirely too impatient to space my answers out over a whole month, thus giving me the opportunity to over-think them (like I do most things). So I’m going with the Kerouac “first-thought-best-thought” method here. Anyway, this ties in nicely with my Desert Island Top 5 Albums post. Anything that’s linked will take you to YouTube (in a new tab/window) where you can listen to all or part of the song (this is a good way to find some new music, anyway).

Also, I encourage anyone else with a blog to participate (it’s fun and it’s a great way to procrastinate). If you don’t have a blog, I’m still interested in your answers, and welcome you to leave them in the comments section.

But be warned: decisiveness is not always one of my strong suits. There might be more than one answer sometimes.

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Things That Don’t Make Sense

There are certain things throughout the course of writing this blog that seem to come up again and again. Though I try not to beat things to death, I’m sure I’ve repeated myself more than once. While I try to not broach subjects that could potentially cause a lot of controversy, there are times when I need to write it out because I feel like my brain is on fire.

This is one of those times.

On Tuesday, my governor announced unprecedented cuts in funding to public education, and try as I might, I can’t find any sense in it. In fact, like many, I’m sure, I’m pretty enraged about it. Sure, I could keep these thoughts to myself, but I suppose I’m also curious to see if anyone can tell me why this makes sense.

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Word Vomit and Creative Constipation

It’s flu season. That must be it. It’s the only reason I can think of that, with all my verbal spewage, my creativity seems to be all blocked up. I hope it’s not a result of too much cheese (in my writing, I mean). Whatever it is, it’s starting to become painful.

Oh, sure. I can talk a good game. “Here are all the ways I’ve gotten myself out of writer’s block before because I don’t really believe in it.” My tried-and-true methods have, for some reason, failed me.

I have writer’s block.

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