Biting the Bullet: NaNoWriMo Begins in 3… 2… 1...

People often ask me why there's a picture of a bird as the header for my blog about writing. Actually, no, they don't. I ask myself that, and then I tell myself it looks badass. But really, I'm too lazy to change it.

It's been a while since I have posted anything, and for that there is no excuse. However, as November 1st draws near, and I get more excited and nervous, all I want to do is blog about it.

For those of you who don't know, this is my sixth year of National Novel Writing Month. By the end of the month, hopefully it will be my sixth year of winning. Unlike the last two years, this year I had no clue what to write about. This scared me a little. Last year, I wrote City of Stone, a dystopian tale that I am pretty proud of. The year before that I rewrote my baby, The Night Stalker. This year, I feel that I have some high expectations which is intimidating. This NaNoWriMo will be my last NaNo in high school. Next year in college, everything will be different.

So far, I know my novel will follow a girl named Rowan. I had something planned out, but now that I look at it, I'm not sure if what I had is Rowan's story. Yes, a buddhist futuristic Robin Hood-type character sounds awesome, but since the day I first thought of that idea something always felt off.

There are two types of writers: the ones who have to plan every single detail out and the ones who don't. I fall into the later category. I have always believed that there is no write or wrong when it comes to writing. Writing is the one place where the rules of language can be twisted until they are unrecognizable, as long as it is done well. What works for one writer may not work well for another. This is no different.

Both types of writers have their pros and cons, just like everything else. Detail oriented authors have less writer's block because they know exactly what happens next and how to get there. However, this type of writing can be very restrictive.

I prefer to not plan out what I write. When I write, I feel like I am reporter watching the action and writing it down in vivid detail. I have an idea where the story will lead, but I'm not quite sure. Characters, scenes, and plot develop and often have surprising and amazing outcomes. I like to use the analogy of an archeologist. I'm digging up bits and pieces, uncovering them, and I sort of know what will be there, but there's always a surprise or two. I found that the more I plan out a story, the faster I get bored with a story. I don't want to write a story where I already know what's going to happen. That's why I can't read the same book twice.

But, like I said, just because I do it doesn't mean you have to. Every writer is different. Every mind works in a different way. It's taken me years to figure out how I write, and even now I'm still not sure. It's all about experimentation. Don't let "experts" tell you what to do. Find your own way.

There is no write way to write. You just have to write.

Happy Halloween and Happy NaNoWriMo!
Let me know how your novel is going in the comments…

~snowie

2+2≠5: A 1984 Review

Wow. Two posts in a row, exactly a week apart. Commitment! Or, maybe it's just my blogging buddy's influence down at Blake Baker's Blog. Seriously, the guy manages to update his blog at least once every week or two. I am lucky to get in one or two posts a month (Maybe you should stop procrastinating, Snowie). He is a great blogger (And a great guy in real life), so everyone should check out his blog. Do it. Right Now. I dare you. 

Ah... A Book Review! Finally! I haven't done on of these in a very long time. 

1984 by George Orwell

From Wikipedia

"War is Peace.

Freedom is Slavery.

Ignorance is Strength."

Or so 1984 states. 

1984 (Sparknotes) was a very intriguing and entertaining novel, that is if you like books that really make you think. Through 1984, George Orwell sends a strong message saying that if society allows for the government to take control and unify everything and if history is allowed to be rewritten, then the future of humankind lies within the pages of 1984. This message is sent through the story of Winston Smith, a man who chooses to defy the government and society to find out why. Winston is a middle aged man living in present day London. He works for the Party, the ruling government of the time. Everywhere he goes, he is constantly being watched by the government. Any wrong reaction or emotion could make him guilty of thoughtcrime, thinking rebellious thoughts. 

In the beginning of 1984, Winston is working for the Party in the Ministry of Truth where he alters historical documents everyday. He buys a diary where he begins to write down his thoughtcrimes and wonders why the world is the way it is. He doesn't understand the government's control of history: The Party will claim that the country has always been at war with one country, not another, but Winston can remember a time when there was war in a different country. Winston meets a girl named Julia who feels the same way about the Party. They begin an affair, which they both know will only end in death by the Party. 

If I could, I would recommend 1984 to every single person. I would recommend almost every book to everyone, though. 1984 is a very deep, hard read with pages of nothing but text and very little dialogue. Still, more people need to read this book and take a good, long look at the ideas and motifs discussed in the book. It is not necessarily the story the book contains that is important, but what the reader learns from the book. 

One last thing. I have Chapter One of a story up on Figment which is ready to be read. Thanks!

Happy Writings!

~Snowie

When Living is not Living: A Short Story by Me

When Living is not Living

By Snowie

“As soon as there is life there is danger.”

Ralph Waldo Emerson

The robot’s green eyes stared right at her, no, not right at her, right through her. Kassie stared straight back, saying nothing, thinking nothing. They had been like this for hours. Kassie had barely noticed. She had forgotten why she was staring at her father like this. How long had Kassie been standing there? The robot’s eyes flashed in a sort of automatic blink. Kassie blinked back. A ping came from the robot’s speaker. Kassie’s father turned around and rolled down the hall. He disappeared around the corner.

Kassie stood in the the hallway waiting for the nothing that would never come. Or possibly, the nothing was already there. Maybe the nothing was all Kassie’s life was. Maybe everything that ever existed was nothing at all. Everything that ever mattered to her (Which was nothing of much importance) was blanketed in nothing.

She moved her foot forward one inch, two inches, three, down. Kassie stared at her heavy feet as they shuffled. For some reason unbeknownst to her, it seemed like they were not her feet. Somehow the feet seemed to have detached themselves from her feet and found another person to carry around. She took another step and watched as the padded floor rose around her white shoes. Another step. Her hand touched the padded wall. Kassie looked up at the fake sunlight pouring from the fake windows. For a second she wondered what actual sunlight felt like. She froze. Why had she thought that? Sunlight was dangerous, the government said so. She could be thrown in jail for at least a month for just thinking about sunlight. Kassie held her breath. She waited for alarms to sound. None went off. Within seconds, the thought was forgotten and Kassie was left wondering what she was doing standing in the middle of the hallway.

Her mother came around the curved corner carrying the portable IV in her padded robot hands. Her usual monotone voice came on. “Time for lunch, Kassie.”

Kassie’s feet moved again and she was walking out of the hall and into the dinning area. She sat on the white padded floor and took the padded white IV from her mom. Kassie lifted her white shirt a couple of inches revealing pale white skin that had healed around a closed tube. Kassie took the tube from the IV and locked it into the tube that disappeared inside her. Kassie touched the start button lightly. A clear fluid filled the tubes and vanished inside of her. Three minutes later lunch was done. Kassie relaxed a bit. She had heard that lunch, breakfast, and dinner were the most dangerous parts of the day. Mom had told her that the government was working on making IVs safer. Kassie carefully unhooked the IV and stood. The robot bent over and picked up the IV. Kassie watched. Something shiny and pointed stuck out of the robot’s back.

“Mom, can you stop?” Kassie moved closer and the robot froze. It was an odd object. She had never seen anything like it in real life. Maybe she had seen something like it in the dangerous listings. What was it called again? ...Metal. That’s it. Metal. Kassie reached out and hesitated. This was wrong. She should not touch it. She should call the police and turn Mom in. Mom was dangerous. It would be the right thing to do, wouldn’t it? Kassie looked down at her mom. But, it was her mom. Would Dad notice if Mom left? Kassie looked at the metal sticking out of her mom’s back. She stared and turned her head to watch the fake light reflect off of the tip. The thing was so beautiful. Kassie’s hand shook as she moved closer. Her fingertips were inches away from the tip. Touching it once could not do any harm, could it? Even closer still. Perhaps everyone was wrong. How could something so beautiful be so dangerous?

Kassie poked the metal. She screamed.

Mom jerked up as Kassie snatched her hand back. Alarms blared through the house. Doors locked and the light flared. Kassie stared at her finger. It was throbbing slightly. A dot of red sat on the tip of her finger. She stared at the droplet and watched it fall to the ground. The padded floor soaked up the red and it spread through the fibers. Another droplet formed on her fingers. For a moment she stared at the droplet. Kassie hesitated then touched her finger to her lips. She licked the red dot. Something funny happened to her mouth. Her spit seemed to change and be different. She spit on the ground trying to make the funny spit go away. Mom stared at her. Her blue robot eyes blinked simultaneously.

The padded door swung open. Three men and a woman walked in wearing helmets and thick suits. The three men walked straight over to Mom and opened the control panel. One of the men punched in a code. Mom followed them out the door. Kassie looked away from Mom and the men. The woman was standing by her, waiting with a large medical kit. Kassie held out her finger for the woman. The woman bent over and opened her medical kit. She took Kassie’s finger and wiped away the red. The wipe dissolved in the woman’s hand. The woman brushed the remains away and the floor cleaned up for her. Kassie watched silently as the woman took out a lighted wand. The woman pressed the wand against Kassie’s finger. When the wand was removed, there was nothing to prove that the red had leaked from Kassie’s body.

The woman smiled and put her equipment away. “Now go lay in bed. By morning you will have forgotten everything terrible that has happened today.”

“The unexamined life is not worth living.”

Socrates