There are 92 days until Christmas, folks. 92.
There are still three months left until my favourite day of the year, and I'm already looking up inspiration for crafts and goodies and decorations.
There are still thirteen weeks (and two days) until Santa Claus comes to town, and I'm already making lists of all of my favourite Christmas specials.
92 days, and I'm already putting holiday albums on my phone. I'm already eagerly awaiting the first snowfall, and my Pinterest is filled with everything related to December 25th.
There are 92 days until Christmas...and roughly 39 days until the rest of the world starts to share in my excitement.
Until later,
- Justyne
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
Monday, September 22, 2014
Smile (Micro-Fiction Monday) (BEDS #22)
57. 58. 59.
Sixty. The blocky numbers on the wall
flash from 8:14 to 8:15. I jump up from the less than comfortable chair in the
staff room and burst through the swinging doors, the morning murmur enveloping
me as a welcome.
“Hey,”
I say to my coworker. She wears a brown apron, identical to mine, and her hair
is tucked into a bun that is neat and annoyingly perfect. “Care for a break?”
She
hands a customer their change and gives me a strange look. “My shift just
started.”
“Never
too early for a break, though, right?”
She
turns around, folding her arms across her chest and leaning back against the
counter. She stares at me for a minute, and I keep smiling, the forced casualty
making my cheeks ache. She looks like she’s about to say something, but must
decide against it, as she shrugs and walks away. “All yours.”
I
immediately take my place at the till, even though the customer she was attending
to is long gone and has yet to be replaced. I sneak a peek at my phone, hidden
in the pocket of my apron. 8:16. Any
second now.
A bell
chimes, signalling the entrance of a new customer. I shove the phone back in my
pocket and look up, my customer-is-always-right smile beaming.
It’s
him. He approaches my till slowly, gazing at the menu like he hasn’t been here
a million times. I already know what he wants, but I don’t start to type it in
until he voices it. Oh god, his voice.
He takes his coffee, smiles, nods, and leaves. It’s the same every morning—right down to my smile. Not forced for customers or nonchalance, but one that is all too real.
~~
Until later,
- Justyne
Sunday, September 21, 2014
THE MASTER OUTLINE (BEDS #21)
That is the title of the document that I currently have open on my computer, caps and all.
I'm not normally one to outline before I write something. Most of the time, I find outlining boring and tedious--and sometimes even unnecessary, as the major events are often already plotted out in my head. I try to avoid it, as much as possible, and rely on my memory and my fantastic "wangin' it" skills to power through my WIP.
This WIP is different, though. There's so much going on, so many relationships and subplots and emotions running wild that no matter how hard I try, I can't keep it all straight in my head. I forget things, little tidbits of information that come up later on. I end up having to reread a good chunk of the story to find it--and more often than not that ends with me wincing at how bad the earlier stuff is.
Bottom line is, I can't possibly keep track of everything that's going on. Not mentally. So, I started to outline.
I just started working on it the other day, and it's already becoming this massive document, with history and biographies and plot points. It feels nice to have some concrete information written down in a more accessible way. But at the same time, the act of actually making the outline still feels like utter torture to me. (Cue war flashbacks to every English essay I had to write that ever involved summarizing literature....*shudders*)
So, in an effort to make this outline more bearable, I've decided not to complete it...not right away, at least. Instead, I'll write down everything as I go. I'm hoping that it will make things easier for me later, when I need to reference an obscure plot point made five chapters back that I've long since forgotten (No more scrolling through documents and skimming poorly written paragraphs to find it! Hallelujah!), without my spirit suffocating in prep work.
I'll keep you updated as to how this little plan of mine works out. (Hopefully, it'll work out fairly well.)
Until later,
- Justyne
I'm not normally one to outline before I write something. Most of the time, I find outlining boring and tedious--and sometimes even unnecessary, as the major events are often already plotted out in my head. I try to avoid it, as much as possible, and rely on my memory and my fantastic "wangin' it" skills to power through my WIP.
This WIP is different, though. There's so much going on, so many relationships and subplots and emotions running wild that no matter how hard I try, I can't keep it all straight in my head. I forget things, little tidbits of information that come up later on. I end up having to reread a good chunk of the story to find it--and more often than not that ends with me wincing at how bad the earlier stuff is.
Bottom line is, I can't possibly keep track of everything that's going on. Not mentally. So, I started to outline.
I just started working on it the other day, and it's already becoming this massive document, with history and biographies and plot points. It feels nice to have some concrete information written down in a more accessible way. But at the same time, the act of actually making the outline still feels like utter torture to me. (Cue war flashbacks to every English essay I had to write that ever involved summarizing literature....*shudders*)
So, in an effort to make this outline more bearable, I've decided not to complete it...not right away, at least. Instead, I'll write down everything as I go. I'm hoping that it will make things easier for me later, when I need to reference an obscure plot point made five chapters back that I've long since forgotten (No more scrolling through documents and skimming poorly written paragraphs to find it! Hallelujah!), without my spirit suffocating in prep work.
I'll keep you updated as to how this little plan of mine works out. (Hopefully, it'll work out fairly well.)
Until later,
- Justyne
Starting (Once You've Stopped) (BEDS #20)
So here's the thing: as hard as it may be, developing a routine and writing every day is very, very, very, very, very, very, very important to any writer's life. Because once you develop a routine or a habit, following it becomes second nature, and suddenly your entire life just becomes that much easier.
Life is a jerk, though. Life likes to wait until you're comfortable with your routine, and then burst through the door one day screaming about sardines and throwing rubber chickens at you. It likes to throw thing after thing after thing at you until, eventually, you have no choice but to stop and take a break.
We've already established that that's okay. Taking a break is needed, once in a while. It's an easy thing to do, too. The only problem with taking a break--be it because of an illness or a major life event or just plain taking a vacation (or in my case, all three)--is the restarting.
It's been a while since I've worked on my WIPs. First I was on vacation, and then I was moving, and then I was sick. Bam, bam, bam...it just hit me one after the other after the other, so quickly that I just didn't have the time or energy to write. I figured that I would just focus on the blog, that that would be enough. I was keeping up with my commitment, and I was okay with that.
But now that I'm starting to feel better (although still hacking and coughing constantly, which at this point that happens so often that I'm used to it), and I've been moved in for a while (even though a lot of my stuff is still in boxes...shhh), I feel like I should start writing again. I should grab that WIP, and start giving it the time and energy it deserves.
It's not quite as easy as it sounds.
I had a routine before. I had a game plan, one that worked and worked well. Now that game plan is null and void, and I've gotten so used to spending the majority of my time either unpacking or watching TV that I hardly know how to make a new one. My lack of motivation is as frustrating as ever.
Sometimes, though, you just have to sit down and do it. It's not always easy...scratch that, it's never easy. But if we waited until it was easy, it'd never get done at all.
It's not the easiest thing to accept. There's always a part of me that will wish for something else, some magical strategy to an easier alternative. But life doesn't play with magic, and it certainly doesn't like easy.
So all that's left is to do the hard thing, and work on it.
Until later,
- Justyne
Life is a jerk, though. Life likes to wait until you're comfortable with your routine, and then burst through the door one day screaming about sardines and throwing rubber chickens at you. It likes to throw thing after thing after thing at you until, eventually, you have no choice but to stop and take a break.
We've already established that that's okay. Taking a break is needed, once in a while. It's an easy thing to do, too. The only problem with taking a break--be it because of an illness or a major life event or just plain taking a vacation (or in my case, all three)--is the restarting.
It's been a while since I've worked on my WIPs. First I was on vacation, and then I was moving, and then I was sick. Bam, bam, bam...it just hit me one after the other after the other, so quickly that I just didn't have the time or energy to write. I figured that I would just focus on the blog, that that would be enough. I was keeping up with my commitment, and I was okay with that.
But now that I'm starting to feel better (although still hacking and coughing constantly, which at this point that happens so often that I'm used to it), and I've been moved in for a while (even though a lot of my stuff is still in boxes...shhh), I feel like I should start writing again. I should grab that WIP, and start giving it the time and energy it deserves.
It's not quite as easy as it sounds.
I had a routine before. I had a game plan, one that worked and worked well. Now that game plan is null and void, and I've gotten so used to spending the majority of my time either unpacking or watching TV that I hardly know how to make a new one. My lack of motivation is as frustrating as ever.
Sometimes, though, you just have to sit down and do it. It's not always easy...scratch that, it's never easy. But if we waited until it was easy, it'd never get done at all.
It's not the easiest thing to accept. There's always a part of me that will wish for something else, some magical strategy to an easier alternative. But life doesn't play with magic, and it certainly doesn't like easy.
So all that's left is to do the hard thing, and work on it.
Until later,
- Justyne
Friday, September 19, 2014
Letters to Myself - 30 (BEDS #19)
Dear 30-year-old self,
This letter, unlike the others, is not about reassuring myself. This letter, unlike the others, will not tell you of the great things to come and warn you of things that might be better to avoid. Because this letter is not a rhetorical letter--it's a letter that you will see, someday. Because you are me, and if I know myself like I think I do, I'm sure I'll end up rummaging through old internet posts eventually.
You will find this. And you will read this. And although you probably don't want to listen to the words of naive, probably cringe-worthy, 20-year-old you, I think you should. I mean, you won't listen to anyone else, anyway. Who knows any of this better than us?
I don't know where you are. Maybe you're married, starting a family. Maybe you're single and alone with 20 cats. (God, I hope it's not the second one. I don't even like cats that much.) Maybe you're a published, successful author...and maybe you're not.
I don't like to acknowledge the possibility of our failure, but denying it doesn't make it any less plausible. It might happen, as sad as that idea is, and you'll probably want to give up.
Please don't.
Maybe you're considering switching career paths--heading for something that pays better. Maybe you already have, and your writing as already long since started collecting dust in the corner.
Please don't.
I'm sorry if my lack of progress at age 20 helped contribute to our lack of success at age 30. I'm sorry if you're second guessing the decisions that I'm making now.
But I'm not sorry it happened.
I'm not sorry I left school, I'm not sorry that I spent so much time focusing on the positives and convincing myself that yes, this is possible. Because even if, at age 30, you are not where I envision you to be, it still is possible. It's as possible at age 30 as it was at age 20 as it will be at age 40 or 50 or 72. There are no time constraints.
So if you have given up, or you are still considering it, just remember...you still have time. You can still do this. I believe in you, and since I'm you, you really believe in yourself...right? (I'm sorry, this whole talking-to-myself deal has really mixed up the pronouns in my head.)
I'm leaving this up to you, now. So if not for yourself, do it for me. And if not for me, do it for the 9-year-old us--the one who still exists in another time and place, lying in bed and dreaming of seeing her name in print someday.
Do it for her, okay?
Love,
20-year-old Justyne
I'm leaving this up to you, now. So if not for yourself, do it for me. And if not for me, do it for the 9-year-old us--the one who still exists in another time and place, lying in bed and dreaming of seeing her name in print someday.
Do it for her, okay?
Love,
20-year-old Justyne
Thursday, September 18, 2014
Letters to Myself - 17 (BEDS #18)
Apologies for being absent the last few days--I got sick and haven't been feeling well. Now that I'm back, though, the challenge continues!
~~
Dear 17-year-old self,
I wish I could tell you not to take English. I wish I could tell you to focus on something, anything else. I wish I could tell you that the misery that ensued from enrolling in that program was not worth it...but it was.
You met a really, really awesome person from taking that class. You met lots of really, really awesome people from attending university completely. So yes, the class sucks, and yes, you may hate it. But even so, I do not regret it one bit. If I had not taken that class, I would not have been at that school, and that year remains one of my favourites. That place remains one of my favourites.
Instead, I will tell you this: don't stress over your future.
You might panic, sometimes. You might feel like you're lost, and have no idea where you're supposed to be headed. You might feel like you have no idea what you're supposed to do with the rest of your life.
I'm here to slap you upside the head (figuratively speaking), because you do know these things. You've known them since you were nine years old--why should they change now that you're reaching "adulthood"?
(Speaking of which, I feel like I should mention that, at least by age 20, you will never feel like an adult. By age 20, you will feel more like a five year old than you did when you were actually five years old. I have embraced it, and you should, too.)
My point is, you know where your passion lies. Don't doubt it. Whenever you feel stressed or worried about the future, take a breath and start writing.
Lord knows how much we would have gotten done if we had.
Love,
20-year-old Justyne
~~
Dear 17-year-old self,
I wish I could tell you not to take English. I wish I could tell you to focus on something, anything else. I wish I could tell you that the misery that ensued from enrolling in that program was not worth it...but it was.
You met a really, really awesome person from taking that class. You met lots of really, really awesome people from attending university completely. So yes, the class sucks, and yes, you may hate it. But even so, I do not regret it one bit. If I had not taken that class, I would not have been at that school, and that year remains one of my favourites. That place remains one of my favourites.
Instead, I will tell you this: don't stress over your future.
You might panic, sometimes. You might feel like you're lost, and have no idea where you're supposed to be headed. You might feel like you have no idea what you're supposed to do with the rest of your life.
I'm here to slap you upside the head (figuratively speaking), because you do know these things. You've known them since you were nine years old--why should they change now that you're reaching "adulthood"?
(Speaking of which, I feel like I should mention that, at least by age 20, you will never feel like an adult. By age 20, you will feel more like a five year old than you did when you were actually five years old. I have embraced it, and you should, too.)
My point is, you know where your passion lies. Don't doubt it. Whenever you feel stressed or worried about the future, take a breath and start writing.
Lord knows how much we would have gotten done if we had.
Love,
20-year-old Justyne
Saturday, September 13, 2014
Letters to Myself - 14 (BEDS #13)
Dear 14-year-old self,
This is a hard time for you. You might not notice it now, because you're probably too busy focusing your attention on your homework, and your writing, and those books that you insist on reading so quickly. (Speaking of which, slow down a big, would ya? I feel like I've read half of the library's collection but have no memory of any of it.)
You're probably feeling a little lonely right now. That's fine. There are some pretty cool people waiting for you in your English class. Go on, talk to them. And if you're not ready yet, then that's fine, too. Pretty soon you won't have a choice.
Don't be afraid to speak up. Like, ever. If you want to ask about that foreign exchange program, you ASK about it. If you want to try out dance, you LOOK INTO IT. I'll just be repeating myself later, I know, but if I had just learnt this crap sooner I'm sure I'd have an easier time with it now.
Don't be ashamed of your interests. I'm gonna say that again, because it is so so so important: NEVER BE ASHAMED OF YOUR INTERESTS. When that one random guy asks you if you're looking at Sailor Moon pictures on the internet, you turn around and tell him yes. Yes, you are looking at Sailor Moon pictures, because Sailor Moon is your favourite show. It's okay. You'll never see him again, so it's not like it'll matter.
You will go to a grand total of one dance during high school. One. But y'know what? It was fun. Try and go to more. Maybe if you buy tickets, they won't actually get cancelled.
And finally: although I wouldn't normally prevent you from doing something, I feel like I should warn you to be careful with what you post on the internet. Not for safety, but for the mere fact that in 6 or so years, you will look back and cringe at every. Single. Word.
So please. For my sake.
Love,
- 20-year-old Justyne
This is a hard time for you. You might not notice it now, because you're probably too busy focusing your attention on your homework, and your writing, and those books that you insist on reading so quickly. (Speaking of which, slow down a big, would ya? I feel like I've read half of the library's collection but have no memory of any of it.)
You're probably feeling a little lonely right now. That's fine. There are some pretty cool people waiting for you in your English class. Go on, talk to them. And if you're not ready yet, then that's fine, too. Pretty soon you won't have a choice.
Don't be afraid to speak up. Like, ever. If you want to ask about that foreign exchange program, you ASK about it. If you want to try out dance, you LOOK INTO IT. I'll just be repeating myself later, I know, but if I had just learnt this crap sooner I'm sure I'd have an easier time with it now.
Don't be ashamed of your interests. I'm gonna say that again, because it is so so so important: NEVER BE ASHAMED OF YOUR INTERESTS. When that one random guy asks you if you're looking at Sailor Moon pictures on the internet, you turn around and tell him yes. Yes, you are looking at Sailor Moon pictures, because Sailor Moon is your favourite show. It's okay. You'll never see him again, so it's not like it'll matter.
You will go to a grand total of one dance during high school. One. But y'know what? It was fun. Try and go to more. Maybe if you buy tickets, they won't actually get cancelled.
And finally: although I wouldn't normally prevent you from doing something, I feel like I should warn you to be careful with what you post on the internet. Not for safety, but for the mere fact that in 6 or so years, you will look back and cringe at every. Single. Word.
So please. For my sake.
Love,
- 20-year-old Justyne
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