So This is the New Year

Woody Guthrie’s resolutions, 1943.

& I don’t feel any different. I mean, the calendar system we use in the US is so arbitrary. I’m really more of a lunar cycle kind of girl (btw, is that series any good? I’ve never had much inclination to check it out).

Throwing it back to last year’s post on this day, 2017 was chock full of THINGS. I did less traveling than the year prior, and most of it was for job interviews with airlines. Some time around the end of March I decided to give up the ghost, take some time to have a regular sleep schedule and maybe be a flight attendant again in a couple years when I’m more financially secure.

I added several more odd jobs to my list of “I’ve done almost everything for money (but I won’t do that),” and btw, I would strongly discourage anyone from working in the cannabis industry in Denver unless you’re pretty solid dealing with dickbags and shady business. I quit my job, and spent a good amount of time crying on the phone before I checked my voicemail and heard my invitation to interview for a new one

So, for the second half of 2017, I worked a 9-5 in a law office, moved from a suburb to Denver proper (pretty close to downtown and “the action,” which is where I love to be), and got a lot of puppy snugs. I submitted poetry, was published twice! and closed out the year with potential and growth and all of that positivity nonsense you never hear from me.

What I didn’t do was finish anything. Does a poetry manuscript count? Even if I’ve written the majority of the pieces in it in years prior? I exist constantly in this weird pendulum swinging between trying too hard and not trying hard enough.

I’m moving next month, hopefully starting in an upward position at my company (send hopeful vibes!), and will hopefully crush it personally and professionally this year (by finishing a damn book). Even my personal life is looking pretty tolerable (although I have friendships and family to tend to, and men are trash, except the one that is currently less trash). I’m looking forward, and I hope I can drag a few friend’s gazes future-ward as well. I’ve been so lucky to not be under the constant yoke of depression and I want that for others, too.

With that, I’ll leave you with a link to Angel City Review’s current issue. I’m in there, along with a poem I wrote 6 years ago when I was bitter and angry. I’m still bitter and angry, but not in LA anymore, and less so.

My writing was published in a magazine!

 

photo credit: Birdy Magazine on Facebook.

A few months ago I wasn’t doing much writing, so decided that I needed to be a Real Writer™ and start submitting. I am floored because two of my poems have been accepted by two different publications and it’s seriously wild to think that other people read something I wrote and thought it was good enough to accept for publishing (and pay me for it!)

 

The December issue (vol. 48) of Birdy Magazine is out and one of my poems is in it and I’m all aflutter. Birdy is a local Denver magazine and it’s really very cool, chock full of art, and devoid of the kind of garish advertising you see in more “commercial” magazines. It’s also free. The quality of the printing makes each issue pretty and collectible, and the artists featured on each cover do such a great job. I couldn’t be happier to be featured, and I want to show everyone this issue.

However, it is deeply, deeply uncomfortable publicizing my poetry. I’ve never had an issue sharing stories, blogs, articles, you name it. Poetry, on the other hand, is like my deep dark secret activity. I’ve only really ever written it for myself, and I almost never show it to anyone. With the exception of a couple poems I submitted to a writing contest once and in workshops, I just don’t share.

I brought a few copies of the magazine to work, and after the fifth person tried to open the mag and read my poem right in front of me I started awkwardly insisting they go away first. As much as I love attention it seems really self aggrandizing to blather on, and I’m not falsely humble. I’m happy to brag, it’s just such a quagmire of emotions and awkwardness to share something personal. I should probably get used to it.

Writing, art, passion, loneliness.

I just sent in a poetry submission. To a real publication (I am still unsure if my community college writing contest counts, but that’s a question for a poetry editor somewhere), and I find myself feeling strangely not relieved or excited. Just the same strange strong obligation to march ever onward.

I tried explaining this to someone recently. We were discussing ambition and motivation and life-in-general stuff, and explaining my perception of my life and goals wasn’t very relate-able. Writing is the only thing I’ve ever wanted to do, not necessarily for money, or fame or success, but to do.

have to write. Not often or in any particular quantity, but it’s what I have, and I have always felt a weird undercurrent of obligation to do so. Also I’m getting kind of good at it at this point, so it’s easier than say, oil painting would be, in terms of expression of the self.

Anyway, the thing is, not everyone has that drive to share, to express, and I didn’t really know it until recently. Not every human on the planet is constantly obsessing about creating art in ways that other people can relate to. You see the urge in other things, relate-able social media, memes, etc. Storytelling is a part of most human cultures, but not everyone has a tiny voice threatening you every day to write, or else. Yeah, my passion threatens me, what does yours do?

The part we did agree on, in this conversation, was that any endeavor that requires focus requires ALL OF THE FOCUS. This is part I struggle with. I can’t neglect the routine, the self-care, socializing. Those are all  things I need to stay sane so I can write. I am never going to be that shut-in genius that people talk about in hushed tones about my dedication to my craft. I like living and doing and laughing, and if that means I blow off editing this damn poetry manuscript for another month, I shall. And you shan’t stop me with your guilt-trip, self. SHAN’T.

Anyway, writing is lonely. Unless you collaborate with another person (and this idea is HORRIFYING to me, because control issues), you’re bound to spend a lot of time alone, with paper. Lots of paper. And pens. And computers. That is an incredibly off-putting realization, for me.

But I just submitted some poetry. And I’ll do it again. And I’ll continue to (very slowly) write this book (and the three others I’ve started since I started that one).

Why I Swiped Left On You

Hell to no, to the no no no no no
Ironically, this photo was linked to a much less funny but similar post on HuffPo, written by a dude.

  • You have a lot of weird facial hair in every single picture. I interpreted this as an extreme commitment to your beard/mustachios/mutton chops. Like more commitment than you’ll have to an actual human relationship
  • you have no photos
  • you have one photo
  • you have all group photos
  • it is unclear who you are in each photo
  • your first picture is you and your extremely hot friend. The comparison is not flattering. Also can I have his number?
  • you are holding a fish and you’re not a marine biologist
  • you are petting a drugged tiger
  • you are posing with an extremely cute dog you don’t own, which I will therefore never get to meet
  • you have a shirtless photo and you’re not at the beach
  • you have a shirtless photo and you’re not even outside
  • you have a shirtless photo (leave me some mystery)
  • All of your photos are with girls
  • Any of your photos are with a girl. Oh, she’s your roommate/sister/cousin? Too bad you’ll never get a chance to explain that because I swiped left.
  • All of your photos are with one specific girl. Why are you on this app?
  • You’re smoking a tobacco product
  • You’re drinking in all of your photos.
  • Your first photo is at the gun range. I admire your Beretta but I am not interested in dating the Beretta.
  • You have sunglasses on in every picture. Why? Do you not have eyes? What’s wrong with them?
  • You have a hat on in every picture. I get it, some men have hair loss. I’m going to find out eventually.
  • Close-lipped smiles in every picture. I don’t have dental insurance either, bruh, but I’m going to notice your teeth like, right away, when we meet.
  • All of your selfies are taken from lap level. While I’m pleased to see there’s nothing in your nose, this is an extremely unflattering angle.
  • All of your selfies are exactly the same.
  • None of your photos show your actual face. I get it, you hate selfies, but I can’t see what you look like from 30ft away/with snow goggles on. Sick rail though.
  • All of your photos are “funny.” Like, Halloween costume, ladies heels, morph suit, you passed out on your friend’s couch. What a sense of humor!
  • You did something ironically in a photo and I thought you were serious. Esp. if you’re making fun of women.

Editor’s Note (I am the editor): As of like, one week after I initially wrote this in March ’17, I completely changed my swiping criteria. Here are the updated auto-left swipes.

  • You’re not a dog
  • or a cat.
  • You’re a human man.
  • You’re human.
  • No.
  • I deleted all of these apps.

I plan to die alone with cats.

The Year of Finishing Things

Ah, 2017. I’m excited to be in you.

Last year was long and eventful and a lot of stuff happened. For me, a lot of last year’s events were good! I got a job as a flight attendant, moved to a new state, made new friends, did a ton of traveling, and worked my tail off. I was very goal oriented and had a lot of personal growth and very little backsliding on things like eating a whole pizza in one sitting. One could call it a success.

I’m especially proud of how determined I was to write more in 2016. I worked a lot on the urban fantasy book I started in 2013. I attempted NaNoWriMo and actually did pretty okay for the first half of the month, given how much I was flying. November is always the busiest month. I wrote about 15,000 words, which is kind of a lot. And I’m not done. (btw, if you’re one of my super excellent beta readers I’ll start posting the newer bits soon!)

I also wrote poems and blogs and started a memoir/collection of stories about the funny experiences I had dating in LA while I was living there. I’ve only done about 7 tales/chapters but I made myself laugh and that’s the ultimate goal, non?

I also failed at a lot of things in 2016, but I’m not too torn up about it. I need adversity to really thrive, because let’s face it, I’m lazy as hell. Adversity gets me out of bed in the morning.

So, cheers to The Year of Finishing Things! Whether it’s the book I swore I’d complete in 2016, my Goodreads Reading Challenge (150 books was extremely ambitious, 100 is much more my speed for this year), projects I promised to undertake and didn’t, my laundry, and a good K.O. in Mortal Kombat, my only resolution for 2017 is to finish things.

Also: I’m not a quote person but I’m getting more and more basic so this quote by Brad Paisley. I keep thinking if I can just write a little bit every day I’ll have a Harry Potter length book by next year. Let me have this dream :p

Sci-fi vs. Reality and Scott Westerfeld’s Uglies Series

Uglies (Uglies, #1)I don’t think I’m the only person who gets books stuck in their head like songs. I’ve had Scott Westerfeld’s YA series stuck in my brain for years, and I think a big part of that is because it is so prescient about modern society and the direction human nature is taking us.

The series is set in a future North America where at a certain age privileged teenagers undergo cosmetic surgery to erase all of their flaws. The books go more into the philosophical and ethical consequences of this, from the personal level to that of government, but I think even at the surface level it’s an interesting question to ask yourself. If you could become “perfect,” would you?

In Uglies, Tally Youngblood, the protagonist, spends her free time thinking about what her future face will look like, comparing the symmetry of either half of her face. When I read the books years ago I thought about it myself, but today as I was scrolling through a makeup group I follow on Facebook, a user had posted a set of photos of herself, one unedited, one retouched, side by side, and I was inspired to try it.

I picked a photo (left) from a day I thought my makeup looked really good.

img_2809 img_3350

Surprisingly, the right side of my face when doubled looks more like the original photo. I am right handed, so the features on the right side of my body are all slightly larger. I prefer the photo on the right, which is my left side doubled. You can tell because I have a freckle under the pupil on my left eye. My face is narrower and my forehead is smoother, but despite this I wouldn’t ever voluntarily have a symmetry surgery done, like in the books.

I made my face symmetrical using a free app called Square Instapic. It’s available on both Android and IOS img_3351platforms. I mostly use it for fitting an entire rectangular photo in a square for Instagram, but it makes nice collages too.

With so much emphasis on cosmetically and surgically changing the way we look these days, it’s no wonder Uglies  popped into my head. I’ve seen so much lip lining and contouring and general makeup brujeria recently. Not to mention actual surgery, and photo retouching; the premise of Westerfeld’s book isn’t far off.

I don’t see anything wrong with changing the way you look to feel like your most authentic self, but I think the underlying warning of both the book and my own opinion is that the single-minded focus on image can make humans blind to other, very important things.

Extras (Uglies, #4)However, in a society that is becoming much more like the last book in the series, Extras, image is everything, including livelihood, for a growing number of people. In Extras,  Aya lives in the same world as Tally, but in a different culture, where everything is filmed and broadcast, and social status and resources are allotted by popularity. Sound familiar?

Thousands of people have gained notoriety, sponsor-ships, and sometimes even fame and fortune from popular photos on social media, or viral videos. Some people come to it by chance, and some work very hard and almost single-minded-ly toward these goals. There are tons of marketing and traffic growth experts who have spent years developing know-how and web techniques to create viral content. Marketing is a cornerstone in the American economy and I can imagine it will only grow bigger and more essential as society and technology grow together. It’s exciting and a bit scary to think about, no?

Thanks for reading!

And, just in case you’re wondering, yes, Scott Westerfeld does have an Instagram.

Waiting, Mental Health and Writing

Grave Visions (Alex Craft, #4)Grave Visions, the fourth and latest installment of the Alex Craft books came out today. I was fanatical about this series when I read them initially in 2012, which is when the third book came out.

I’ve waited four excited years for this day. Every time the publication date was pushed back I felt a bit of confusion and disappointment, but not much. The reason? Kalayna Price is an author. A really really good one. Her Haven series is also really great. That aside, she’s a human.

The only hint of explanation (which I was not owed, nor was any other reader) was a blog post from February of 2013, in which she told us that in order to maintain her health and wellbeing she needed to withdraw from touring and appearances and heal.

This resonated with me because I write and deal with health issues. Writing is extremely mentally demanding. The brain is a powerful thing, and the body is affected. In my experience dealing with mental health issues, the physical toll can be harsh. If your physical state is under stress, you can pretty much kiss goodbye any ease in using your mental faculties.
Kalayna Price is doing the dang thing and I’m incredibly inspired by it, whatever her troubles may be. Four years sounds like eons to an anxious reader, but to someone who has spent the last four years getting it together (me) it means work and recovering and more work. Brava, Kalayna. I can’t wait to read your book.