Saturday, November 23, 2013


           So part of my family is on our way to Orlando for the National Clogging Convention over Thanksgiving weekend. If you don't know what clogging is, it's like tap dancing; but not. I honestly could and would love to go into geeky detail about what it truly is and why it's not tap dancing, but I'll spare you the boredom. :) Anyhow, we had a, uh, nice, long, 12 hour drive last night to my grandparents' house. And from here, we shall launch to Orlando in the morning (another 8 hours *sigh*).

           Here's some of the goings-on.

           I make a clandestine attempt to open the bag of sour LifeSaver gummies without waking any munchkins. The sour ones are the best, by of way.
          "Would you like a gummy LifeSaver?" I ask my mom who sits in the drivers seat.
          "Are you sure? It might help you stay awake."
          "Okay, give me one."
          I put one in her mouth.
          "Eh, eh. Ew! What is this?"
          "Um, it's a sour. I thought I mentioned that." Or not. Hee,hee. Maybe not.
          "No. Give me something to spit it out in! This is so gross!"
          I can't stop laughing. "What? No, be a big girl, Mom, and swallow your food."

           I always knew my grandparents' house had a smell of its own. But when I was younger, I couldn't distinguish the smell apart from my grandparents' house. But now in the early morning, I can tell. Coffee. Mostly coffee. With a hint of maple syrup and Cheerios. That's my grandparent's house.

           Maybe it's an odd way to spend lunch, but really, it's rather calming. To eat raspberries. To watch how Grandma uses her chopsticks with such leisure. To listen to her accent as she tells me of the gecko who always sits on the window screen. And all seems right in the world.

           "We've got to go soon," Mom says.
           I shrug at her.
           "So do something with that." She points to my unruly hair.

            A colorful bouquet of fake flowers is at every grave site. Pretty displays over such a sorrowful thing. Does it makes us feel better? My Uncle Michael's grave site is set with plastic pine branches and pine cones. 1999. I was seven when he die. Maybe that's why I still think of him as my Uncle Michael instead of as my uncle whose name is Michael. My Uncle Michael is always how I identify him for some reason. And now I think about how he was fun and hilarious. How my brother looks like him. How devastating it must be to out live your children. And don't all young children identify other people with the same sense of innocence, simplicity, and ownership?

           Panera Bread. My grandma comes here for coffee often. And I can smell it. The wonderful, you-are-home aroma of coffee. College students sit with their laptops, chatting or isolated. Some people talk over business. A young couple on a date clearly don't want observant writers watching them. My grandma talks to me of what I purchased at the mall, college, and moving away. But at the table across, two ladies talk over papers. Quite a stack of papers. One of them flips from page to page and listens to the other. Hm. Maybe. What if. . . the one in the listening role is an author, and the other an agent? Or maybe even a publisher and an agent? What would that be like? What kind of discussion would that be? I let myself really think about it. That one day it will happen to me. Maybe not the lunch part. But a call. An email. I would never be able to handle a lunch with such a business-like air. Yeah, let's hope a lunch doesn't happen. But one day. . . And now I want so badly to write. I told myself to take a break from Oddball this week. But I miss him and all his book.

           I probably won't be around much since we will be clogging the week away. And I'm not sure I'll have access to a computer. But if you're still curious about clogging:


Wednesday, November 20, 2013

Laugh. Cry. What's the difference?

           So I've really been trying to think of something else. Because I guess this song really shouldn't make me laugh. But when I first heard it (and okay, maybe still), I laughed. Mostly at the beginning.

I know. I'm sorry. I'm cruel person. I'm a writer. Never mind. . . 

     There's this one too, now that I think about it. 

           Who doesn't like VeggieTales? This is actually my favorite sing song. Yes, yes, he's singing the blues. But this time, it's supposed to be funny. So it's okay if it makes me laugh. Right?

Tuesday, November 19, 2013

Things I am not thinking about at present

             Day 23: a song you want played at your wedding

             Um, I'm really not thinking about that right now. At all. I'm an artist. I don't have time to waste by daydreaming about something so trivia. Besides who needs a wedding? They're stressful and expensive. I'll just get married.

            When my best friend got married, they played Disney songs. It was really cute. So just for kicks, how about this?

I know not romantic or anything. :P

Day 24: a song you want played at your funeral

           Again, why should this be on my mind at present? Does it matter? I won't be there to hear it.

           Fine. Here's one.

             I already posted this for Oddball once. But it seemed right here too. I thought about Switchfoot's Souvenirs, but I think that may just be to sad for the people listening at that time. So I'll be nice.

             Hopefully soon, I will be done with this song thing. And we can get back to more writerly things.

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

A pitiful epiphany

             Finding words in the Great, Blank Nothing and getting them to stick to paper (or virtual paper) is more difficult than most people think. It also comes with a lot staring into the Great, Blank Nothing (or just staring to normal people).

Monday, November 11, 2013

Songs for Oddball

I've decided to answer these ones for Oddball. Although he does insist that I tell you he doesn't sing. Oh, my bad. That he has never sang in his life and never plans to (why don't you just write this yourself? Okay, fine. . .grumpy).

           But if he has to listen to a song when he's angry. It might go something like this.

           Where I Belong by Switchfoot.

Feels like we're just waiting, waiting
While our hearts are just breaking, breaking
Feels like we're fighting against the tide

I want to the earth shaking
I want to see a generation
Finally waking up inside

Until I die I'll sing these songs
On the shores of Babylon
Still looking for a home
In a world where I belong

When  the weak are finally strong
And the righteous right the wrongs
Still looking for a home
in a world where I belong

           Because it helps calm, so he says. And it gives him hope to carry on. Because what makes him angry are things that are usually sad and just shouldn't happen to people. So for some reason this makes him feel better? Don't ask. Sometimes I don't understand him either. (hey, I can say what I want. I told you that you could write this instead, but you refused).

           Oh. And he likes the part where they sing:

We were born into the fight

          Something about it makes him think of all the kids in the border. And it makes him sad.
If he had to listen to something when he's happy. This would be it:

Love Alone is Worth the Fight by Switchfoot.

He says he especially likes that first verse.

I'm trying to find where my place is
I'm looking for my own oasis
So close I can taste this
The fear that love alone erase

Are you seeing a trend yet? Yeah, and he likes the second one too.

Only here for a season
I'm looking for the rhyme and reason
Why your born, why you leaving in
What you fear and what you believe in
Why are you living and breathing
Why are you fighting and getting even

           For when he's sad, he would definitely choose The Blues by Switchfoot. No argument, there.


You're pushing until you're shoving
You bend until you break
Until you stand on the broken fields where your fathers lay

Is there nothing here worth saving?
Is there anyone at all?
Is there any net left that could catch our fall?

It'll be a day like this one
When the sky falls down
When the hungry and poor and deserted are found.

Is there nothing left now?
Nothing left to sing?
Are there any left who hasn't kissed the enemy?
Is this the New Year, or just another desperation?

Does justice ever find you?
Do the wicked never lose?
Is there any honest song left to sing besides these blues?

And nothing is okay,
Until the world caves in
Until the world caves in

           Puts you in a gray mood, no? He says he happens to like this song when he's happy too. And lonely. Or when he's okay with the world (what? you're never 'okay' with the world). Yeah, he's strange (you didn't hear that). I guess it's just how deep people are.

Wednesday, November 6, 2013

Day 18. . . is that all?

         Day 18: a song you wish you heard on the radio

         Hm, let me narrow it down. . . Something I have posted yet? Most of the songs I've posted I don't hear on the radio. I either have to purchase the songs from iTunes or make youtube work with me. (both tend to be equally frustrating at times). I'll try not to post a for King & Country one.

           I don't think I posted this. Maybe.

           Fight Forever by Anthem Lights

We'll fight for the King of Forever,

        I think that's my favorite part.

        Let's throw in Day 19 for good measure.

        Day 19: a song from your favorite album

        Which favorite album? Hmm. I'm sorry but I have to back to for King & Country. I've been listening on the way to school everyday. And they were playing in Texas last Saturday, and I didn't get to go to the concert. So I have to. :)

         Let's try People Change.

        I love the beginning.

I want to tell you I'm alright.
Want to say I'm not in pain
But I would just be telling lies
I'm not okay, not ok-ay. 

        This version is actually a little different from what's on the album. I didn't realize until just now that they changed it. I like it though. This song is not relevant to my own life at all (some of the lyrics outside of the song could be). But I could write a story out of the lyrics and the music is amazing. I love songs that make me think of stories. Sorry, I know. I've already said that. Here's the album version.

Monday, November 4, 2013

Hope on the radio

           I really was going to post this weekend. But. . . but. . . I don't know what happened. Other things? I guess.

           Day 17: A song that I hear often on the radio

           How about Crave by for King & Country? Their new radio version! This is my favorite song by them. It's ridiculous how ecstatic I get when I hear on the radio.


To live
To die
To lose
To care
To rise above
To love again

To love again
Hope is what we crave
And that will never change. . .

Hope is what-
You gave

           I love how they changed it from the original. The original is like a plea for hope while the new is a celebration of hope. The original is so beautiful though. It's all just musical brilliance!

Friday, November 1, 2013

National Author's Day

           I just found out that today is National Author's Day in America. It was created to celebrate and thank American authors. Here's a link to some more information on it.

           Some of my favorite American authors.

Suzanne Collins

           Do I need to explain? Everyone knows who Collins is. Her books have inspired some of my own ideas. Because of her books, first person narration refused to leave my head so now I'm determined to give it a try some time. And come now- The tension! The suspense! The characters. The Hunger Games is a wild ride.

Veronica Roth

The Divergent trilogy is one of my favorites. The concept. Her writing style. The wonderful characters. I cannot wait to read Alleigant (forgive me if I've spelled it wrong). The dystopian genre is something I can't wait to explore myself one day.
                                                 Blaggard's Moon (Prequel to the Trophy Chase Trilogy) 

George Bryan Polivka

           I would be ecstatic if you've heard of him. He wrote The Trophy Chase Trilogy, and its prequel Blaggard's Moon. I've been wanting to reread these books for a while. Granted, there is head-hopping. I read Polivka before I knew what head-hopping was. Before I knew anything about writing. He's a big reason why I write. And why I write fantasy.


The Mountains Bow Down

Sibella Giorello

           I love geology. And maybe I don't write mysteries (one day. . .), but I love to read them. Giorello has them together. . . in the same book? Why didn't someone think of this before? I love everything about her Raleigh Harmon books. The humor, the characters, the mystery. Forensic science, people! What can be better? She's also one of the few authors who can pull off a Christian protagonist without a cliched, 'preachy' book. I applaud that. It's so hard to find. She inspires me.

           This is the abridged list.

           What about your favorite American author?