Dear Santa (Micro-Fiction Monday)

Dear Santa,

My name is Emily Harris. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?

My Christmas list this year is different. There are no unicorns, pretty dolls with pretty dresses, or iPods mentioned. In fact, I don’t think any of these things can be wrapped—which is a little unorthodox, isn’t it? I hope that’s okay.

For Christmas this year, I would like:

- A gentle snowfall on the 25^th of December; I want to share the beauty with everyone.

- A warm meal delivered to the man I see at the park every day; I don’t think he gets those very often

- A steady job for the woman next door; she deserves it, I think.

- And my mom. If that’s okay.

I’m nineteen now. I know that no amount of cookies or milk will bring you down my chimney on Christmas Eve. I know that no amount of letters will make a bundle of presents appear under my tree on Christmas morning.

But I want to believe that magic exists. And if it does...well, why can’t you?

Love,

Emily

Holiday Retail (Micro-Fiction Monday)

I hate Christmas. How can I not, really, when the scratchy PA system is blaring Christmas carols louder than it should be, threatening to blow the speakers at any moment? How can I not, when seemingly everyone within a twenty mile radius has left the majority of their Christmas shopping until December freaking 23^rd, and somehow have fallen under the misguided impression that I am to blame?

Working retail is bad enough. Retail during the holidays? I’d rather saw off my arm and cook it for Christmas dinner.

“I have a coupon!” one woman screams at me.

“That coupon expired yesterday,” I try to explain to her, for what was probably the twentieth time.

"I just got it in the mail yesterday!” she yells. “How can it be expired already?”

How can I not hate Christmas when the general public makes it so damn easy?

I’m not a big fan of the snow, either. Or the cold that comes with it. I’m bundled up so much that I take up twice as much room as I barrel through the mall, eager to get out before I start sweating under all of my layers. Nobody apologizes when they bump into me; neither do I.

I pause in front of the entrance to yet another busy store, the crowd so thick that even with the padding of my parka, I can’t plow my way through. Someone touches my shoulder. I brush them off, ready to keep moving, until a candy cane is thrust into my face.

I snatch it and turn, my glare cranked up to death level. Once I get a look at him, though, it’s incredibly hard to keep my glare steady; he’s standing next to the entrance of whatever store—a boutique, I think—wearing a ridiculous elf costume, complete with goofy shoes and a hate covered in jingle bells. A basket was hanging in the crook of his arm, filled with more striped candy canes.

He grins at me. “Merry Christmas!”

I turn away quickly, face reddening. “Merry Christmas,” I mumble, hurrying along.

I look back once, before I turn the corner. I can barely see him through the busy shoppers, smiling and offering candy canes to everyone who walks by. He doesn’t seem to be working for the mall or any store in particular—he’s just here to hand out candy canes because he wants to.

His smile must be contagious, because I catch myself smiling a real smile for the first time today.

~~

Until later,

- Justyme

Lessons of NaNoWriMo 2014

November has come and gone once more, which means it's time for me to get off my butt and start blogging again. This was my fourth year participating in NaNoWriMo, and would have been my third year winning in a row...if I had won, that is. But alas, I did not.

The month started out wonderfully--I actually stayed on track for the first half of the month. I kept up the daily word count of 1,667, often doubling it, without falling behind more than a day's worth of words. For the first fifteen days, it looked like I would win without problem--and possibly, for the first time ever, before the evening of November 30th.

But unfortunately, it was not meant to be. I got sick during the second half of the month, and went a full week without writing. I went from being a day ahead to eleven thousand words behind. That, paired with a lack of motivation, the daunting idea of jumping back into it after such a prolonged break, and an unfortunate shift scheduled on the last day of the month all contributed my finishing off the month with a total of 38,508 words.

But still, that's a lot of words--words put towards a project that I was and still am excited to work on. So even with the loss, I'm satisfied with what I accomplished.

Regardless of the result of my furious November writing, I learned a lot this month, and have secured a number of tips for you current and future Wrimos for next year:

1. DO NOT FALL BEHIND. DON'T. DON'T DO IT. I'M SERIOUS. Start the month off strong--if you catch yourself leaving the last couple hundred words for your word count for the following day, slap yourself. Do your best to finish the daily word count whenever humanly possible. YOUR FUTURE SELF WILL THANK YOU.

2. DON'T STOP. If, after an hour or so of writing, you find yourself "in the zone", even after completing your daily goal, DON'T STOP. DON'T YOU DARE. Keep going! If you stop now, you'll totally forget your train of thought and your future self will hate you.

3. GET AHEAD. Already reached your goal by noon? KEEP THAT WRITING TRAIN CHUGGING. Spend the afternoon writing, too! Spend the evening writing! Write all day and get as far ahead as you can! YOUR FUTURE SELF WILL LOVE YOU.

4. STAY AHEAD. Already a few thousand words ahead of schedule? You can take a break, right? WRONG! Keep that streak going! Meet your daily word count, if nothing else! Stay ahead as long as humanly possible, so that when life intervenes--which it will--and prevents you from writing more than a couple hundred words, you won't have to scramble to catch up. YOUR FUTURE SELF WILL ABSOLUTELY ADORE YOU.

5. DON'T BEAT YOURSELF UP. Am I irritated that I didn't meet my goal? Well, yeah. I was doing so well before that damned headache / cold / whatever it was came along and messed it up for me. And I broke my two year winning streak! But getting mad at myself and punishing myself won't change anything--the best I can do is keep writing until I finish, even if it's halfway through December. Just remember: YOU TRIED. You tried, and win or lose, you wrote. Don't let the arrival of December stop you--keep going.

How many of you participated in NaNoWriMo this year? Did you win? Lose? And for those of you who didn't take part, will next year mark the start of your novel?

Until later,

- Justyne

Just Dance It Out!

Today's and every other blog post published in November has been pre-written and scheduled for upload about a month or so in advance. The less I have to blog, the more time I have to dedicate to my NaNoWriMo project! Just like last year, you can put your attention towards the progress bar on the right to see how I'm doing.

See you all in December!

~~

I feel like I get stressed really easily.

This may come as a surprise--it sure does to me. Me, who worked in a restaurant--arguably one of the most stressful jobs you can get--for four years. Me, who finds it necessary to take on a bajillion different projects at once, simply because "eh what the hell". Me, who insists on pursuing careers that require more time, effort and luck to make a decent living off of.

You'd think I'd be used to it by now. Apparently not.

I get very easily frustrated when I'm stressed. If something doesn't turn out right the first time I do it, I get upset and just want to throw in the towel right away. When I'm stressed, my mood turns sour faster, and I find it harder to be my usual perky self.

I do what I do to have fun. So what do I do when the thing that's supposed to be fun fails to improve my mood?

I dance.

Make no mistake: I suck at dancing. (And singing.) But that will not stop me from jumping around like some maniac when Shake It Off blasts through my speakers, singing all the way. I adore dancing; not because I'm good at it (again: I'm not), but because it's fun.


What do you do to relieve stress?

Until later,

- Jusyne

Just a Dream (Micro-Fiction Monday)

She awoke with a start; heart pounding, sweat dabbing at her forehead, breath coming out in short, uneven gasps. It was just a dream, she thought. It’s always just a dream.

It was never just a dream.

It was 2:16 in the morning. Across town, young adults were still partying. Even if the pounding beat of the clubs died down and the bouncers kicked them out, they would carry on, the smell of alcohol following them faithfully around town. In her own neighbourhood, the streets were quiet. Filled with families and elderly couples, each house had turned in for the night. The lights were dark, the inhabitants sleeping and dreaming peacefully.

Partiers and dreamers. Neither act really appealed to her. So instead, she walked.

She walked down the stairs; past her worn mother, asleep on the couch. She walked out the door; a shiver voiced her skin’s complaints at the sudden change in temperature. She hadn’t thought to grab a coat.

She walked down the street, past her sleeping neighbours in their silent houses, past the deserted parks and darkened store windows. She walked until her skin felt tight and stiff from the cold, until her feet started to complain, until dreaming finally started to appeal to her. She walked until her legs gave out, sending her spiraling downwards. The ground was like liquid; she sunk beneath it as she fell, the cold earth swallowing her. The ground was alive; it reached up, closed itself around her neck, too eager and impatient for her to sink naturally. It had to pull her down itself.

She awoke with a start; heart pounded, sweat dabbing at her forehead, breath coming out in short gasps. It was just a dream.

It was never just a dream for her.

~~

Until later,

- Justyne

Me, Myself and I

When I was younger, I wanted to be busy. I wanted to be someone who had a million things going on at once, but managed to multitask it all with ease.

I got my first real taste of this hectic lifestyle during the second half of high school. I had a job that I went to about three or four times a week; I was attending Girl Guide meetings once a week; for a couple months I was had Driver's Ed, which was two or three times a week; I was volunteering at my church almost every Sunday morning; and then, of course, there was my schoolwork, which was technically top priority--but of course that didn't stop me from putting it off until the last minute.

After a few weeks of doing so much, I wanted to travel back in time and talk some sense into my elementary school-aged self. Being busy is exhausting.

The only thing worse than being busy on the outside--constantly running from school to work to commitment after commitment after commitment--is being busy on the inside. Right now, I have a dozen projects going on--but they're all more personal projects, ones that won't see the light of day until who-knows-when.

The issue with personal projects is that I'm the only one who knows that they exist. Until I'm ready to share them--or find a way to share them--they'll remain hidden from view. It's up to me to motivate myself to make time for them and finish them, because no one else is expecting me to get it done. It's just me, myself and I.

Is it appropriate to turn down plans, to say, "I'm busy" to work on something that has no deadline and no audience? I feel guilty saying no to anything when I'm just going to be holed up in my room, slaving away at yet another project, the progress of which is only affecting me. At the same time, I feel guilty after saying yes and going off to have fun, only to come home and realize that I didn't meet my daily goal.

I'm busy, constantly, but it's the kind of busy that I'm easily distracted from.


Until later,

- Justyne

They Won't Hurt Us (Micro-Fiction Monday)

"EEEEK!"

"What?! What's wrong?"

"There's a spider in the bathroom!"

"A spider?"

"YES!"

"And...?"

"Go kill it!"

"Me? YOU go kill it!"

"No way! I'm not going anywhere near it!"

"Oh, come on."

"YOU come on! I'm not setting one more foot in that room until it's dead and gone!"

"It won't hurt you."

"GO KILL IT."

"Alright, alright, fine..."

~~

"BILLY! You almost got yourself killed!"

"Did not!"

"Did too! Mom told you not to go where the humans could see you!"

"They're not ALL bad!"

"They came after you with a shoe!"

"Just these ones! The ones who USED to live here didn't care."

"That's a lie! They moved to the house next door."

"And got trampled on the way!"

"It was probably an accident. They wouldn't hurt us--we don't do anything to bother them."

"...I'm still telling Mom."

~~

Until later,

- Justyne