look who’s writing a novel. (that’ll be me)

You read that right. I’m actually writing a novel. We’re a little over 1,200 words in. The goal is to have 50,000 words by the end of November, as part of the challenge from NaNoWriMo. Beyond the challenge, but I have no delusions of grandeur, y’all. I won’t finish. But I’m headed in that direction. All those italics mean 1) I love italics; 2) I’m super excited; and 3) finishing by the end of November isn’t necessarily the goal.

More on Point 3. I’ve had the desire to write a novel since I was 13 years old, when, during one summer vacation, I began a novel about three girls who go on a road trip. I’ve had the desire to write a novel since I was 16 years old, when I began a novel fictionalizing the antics of two pretty memorable boys that were in a few of my classes in high school. I’ve had three solid novel ideas roaming around my head for a million years. You get my drift. The novel has always been the thing. But the novel always ended up on the back burner. Too busy, too in love with writing my short stories, too this and too that. In fact, it was almost like the novel was the pinnacle of my life as a writer, and I wasn’t quite ready to go there yet. Nevertheless, that was the past. We writin’ a novel!

Plot? Theme? What’s it all about, Alfie? I will remain quiet on all that. But I may post some chapters on here as I go. We’ll see. I will say that the whole “write what you know” adage is quite a concept when you actually do it. Sure, aspects of my life and my experience permeate my fiction (it’s all me, really, in some way), but this particular experience is different somehow. It’s almost more authentic, if that makes any sense.

Which one of you have written a novel? Tell me about the experience, please and thank you!

how do I love thee?

Let me (briefly) count the ways…

My frowning face entered this world in the month of October. We’ve been lovers since then.

I spend many evenings listening to the symphony of my feet pressing down on an endless sea of crunchy leaves in October. And I don’t feel like I’m hurting them, either. They live to fall, don’t they?

I can count every star in the evening sky in October, owing to that vivid, clear sky that seems inches away from my upturned head.

There’s a weird romantic electricity that roams around the atmosphere in October. It makes you want to grab someone and cuddle while you watch the slow setting of the autumn sun. (This, dear friends, will never happen–I don’t think “because it’s October” will suffice when said random stranger has me arrested for grabbing him and forcing him to cuddle.)

Well said.

Autumn Aesthetics…

Soon, the autumn-like weather we’ve been having will collide with these colors. And then I will pass out from the sweet loveliness of it all.

Oh, hi, September.

Back in the day, the dawning of September elicited a pervasive, vomitous feeling in the pit of my stomach, usually accompanied by visions of sitting in Math classes that seemed endless in their confusion and chalkboard hieroglyphics and obsessing over where/who I would sit with during lunch.

Not anymore, ya’ll!

First of all, school has been long over for me, and even though I’ve been contemplating taking a few courses (more on that below), those days are over. I’ll leave the vomitous feeling to the kiddies.

Not anymore…

Sorry, kiddies. Anyway, the dawning of this September brought with it a reminder to set some proper goals for myself. I have to say that although January starts the year, there’s something about the month of September and new beginnings. Perhaps because summer is ending and autumn will soon come; perhaps because, yes, when we were all back in school, September did mean new beginnings: new grades, new teachers, new avenues of learning and humiliation (Math). Whatever the reason, I usually look toward the horizon when September begins (sometimes literally), deliberating over the new goals and plans to set for myself. Here are a few:

Where I Lay my Head. Having moved back home 8 years ago, I’ve decided to try and get my own place once again. What will impact my decision is 1) what I can afford and 2) whether I’ll stay local, or, after years and years of craving and wanting it, move to California. We’ll see. It all depends on things like employment, cost of living, etc. But by and large, Cali waits for me. (In case you’re wondering, yes, the idea of possibly moving to a state I’ve eternally longed for is beyond exciting. Beyond.)

But Before I Go…I need to clean my room here, the room I inhabit now, the room in which I presently lay my head. Because it is a travesty in there. It’s sad and scary and I think I may have some hoarding tendencies. I mean, there aren’t any dead cats or squirrels hidden somewhere, but I don’t think it’s normal to own that many clothes. So a definite goal, one that I’m definitely executing soon, is to clean the batcave.

The J-O-B. A bit related to Goal #1, but whether or not I move to CA, I need a new job. For my sanity, well-being, wallet, and the general safety of certain people I work with. It.is.imperative.

Stop Fretting Over This Hair. Are you all familiar with natural hair? If not, please visit the Google, and if you like, visit the blog I started last year about my transition to natural hair. I’ll warn you that it has about three entries and I have no idea when I’ll update it. Nevertheless, I’m very much in love with my now very natural hair. It’s thick and curly.

in all its glory…

And really, really, really thick and curly. A blessing and a curse, in other words. It’s so intense that I’m constantly on YouTube looking up videos on what next to do with it. It’s become insanely a bit out of control. So my goal is to be balanced. To stop being obsessed. To stop trying to make it look like something it’s not. To stop forcing new styles on my scalp every day. To just let it be. Amen and good night.

 

Relax a Little, Won’t You? I shouldn’t have to wait until the last two weeks of August to relax, should I? No. Things like massages and grabbing a weekend to visit a museum and finding a respite won’t be relegated to the end of summer anymore. I need to breathe easy year-round.

Edumacation. As mentioned above, I’d like to take a few classes. Improving job skills, learning something I know nothing about, etc. Ideally, to quote my Pops, I need to learn something practical. Perhaps something I can use to go into a new line of work.

So, a few of my goals as we welcome September. Got anything planned?

And So It Goes.

We bid goodbye to summer.

We bid goodbye to 31WriteNow, pleased that the effort to blog all 31 days of August was successful. (Yay!) We also hope that blogging everyday will become a second nature thing and not just in response to a challenge. Baby steps.

We bid goodbye to long days and long nights (yes, I’m aware that meteorological summer doesn’t end until mid-September, but work with me, people).

We bid goodbye to empty, non school-is-in session streets. No traffic was good while it lasted, huh?

We bid goodbye.

A tear for summer.

But we await you, Autumn! (See the countdown below.)

Indeed.

–Unknown

The Lighthouse

The Lighthouse

The rocky ledge runs far into the sea,
and on its outer point, some miles away,
the lighthouse lifts its massive masonry,
A pillar of fire by night, of cloud by day.

Even at this distance I can see the tides,
Upheaving, break unheard along its base,
A speechless wrath, that rises and subsides
in the white tip and tremor of the face.

And as the evening darkens, lo! how bright,
through the deep purple of the twilight air,
Beams forth the sudden radiance of its light,
with strange, unearthly splendor in the glare!

No one alone: from each projecting cape
And perilous reef along the ocean’s verge,
Starts into life a dim, gigantic shape,
Holding its lantern o’er the restless surge.

Like the great giant Christopher it stands
Upon the brink of the tempestuous wave,
Wading far out among the rocks and sands,
The night o’er taken mariner to save.

And the great ships sail outward and return
Bending and bowing o’er the billowy swells,
And ever joyful, as they see it burn
They wave their silent welcome and farewells.

They come forth from the darkness, and their sails
Gleam for a moment only in the blaze,
And eager faces, as the light unveils
Gaze at the tower, and vanish while they gaze.

The mariner remembers when a child,
on his first voyage, he saw it fade and sink
And when returning from adventures wild,
He saw it rise again o’er ocean’s brink.

Steadfast, serene, immovable, the same,
Year after year, through all the silent night
Burns on forevermore that quenchless flame,
Shines on that inextinguishable light!

It sees the ocean to its bosom clasp
The rocks and sea-sand with the kiss of peace:
It sees the wild winds lift it in their grasp,
And hold it up, and shake it like a fleece.

The startled waves leap over it; the storm
Smites it with all the scourges of the rain,
And steadily against its solid form
press the great shoulders of the hurricane.

The sea-bird wheeling round it, with the din
of wings and winds and solitary cries,
Blinded and maddened by the light within,
Dashes himself against the glare, and dies.

A new Prometheus, chained upon the rock,
Still grasping in his hand the fire of love,
it does not hear the cry, nor heed the shock,
but hails the mariner with words of love.

“Sail on!” it says: “sail on, ye stately ships!
And with your floating bridge the ocean span;
Be mine to guard this light from all eclipse.
Be yours to bring man neared unto man.
–Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Lighthouse at Cape Hatteras

Norman Rockwell, I Love You.

Just professing my love. It’s what I do.

Read about him, won’t you?

A few of my favorites:

Dear Masseuse…

Thank you for that. It was heavenly. I apologize for fidgeting a tiny bit, though, when you got to the toes. My ticklishness is out of control. But for you, I did try. Yes, I’m glad you gasped when I told you my last massage was a year ago. That somewhat melodramatic reaction was albeit a good reminder that there’s no reason for me to allow 12 months to go by without a good massage. Thanks for also working out all the kinks in my poor, sinusy head. I suppose there’s no need to go beyond the generous, well-deserved tip I gave you, but I’ll be getting started on that statue erected in your name pretty soon. Because your hands were awesome.

Yours,
A Relaxed KHM

sailing, takes me away…

A few shots of our trip to an 18th century sailboat. ‘Twas the kind of lovely day a person could eat.