Looking Back and Rethinking

I went to a writer's conference at school today, during last period which was geography. Yes, I missed a test, but I'll do it soon. It's not like I can't take it tomorrow during cavetime. :P Anyway, Jessica Day George came, author of Dragon Slippers and a few other books. Basically she told us her adventure of becoming an author and what it took for her to do it. She also made it clear to us that in order to write a good book, you need to write about what you love. You can't just do something depressing if you aren't a depressing person. Neither can you write something long and complicated when you're an easy person. All you really need to do is look at what you like to do, what you like to read, what you like to write about, and incorporate all of it into a story that you, as a reader, would like to read and write about. You can't write anything unless you enjoy writing it. That's my simple solution.

So. What should I do about my supposed "Novel" I've been trying to write for a year? Wvern's Destruction is basically about a world-wide war threatening genocide on several different races. Particularly humans. The problem for me is, usually for a first draft, it shouldn't take a year to write it. Granted, I've been busy and distracted, but if I really love writing, then why can't I work hard at this? I love the fantasy and sci-fi, like Lord of the Rings and Star Wars. I love to think about elves and dwarves. The problem is, I've already played out this story with online friends, so why repeat it? I'm getting tired of it, per se. So I want to think of a different story that I'll really love, and try again.

First, I need to figure out what it is I really do like to do. Jessica Day George liked knitting and dragons and Norwegian Languages. She found a great way to incorporate all of that into her books. Now I just need to figure it out for myself, to make my story unique.

I like romances, but not when I get too much of it at one time, otherwise I get really really sick of it. I like the small romances, something like a kiss and a certain liking for someone. I like it when they're equal and can help each other through something like a real relationship would, and sometimes...I like it when the guy saves the girl and they live happily ever after. I love big dogs. Particularly Golden Retrievers and German Shepherds. I like a sci-fi fantasy setting, or something in the future with a cool girl. I hate it when the girls are wimpy, but I don't want the girl to be too cool, because I need room for a main guy. I also don't like it when it's in a girl's perspective and I'm a girl author. It's just...yeah. [Not] All female authors make their lead character female, and I just want to be different. I've always been fascinated with history, particularly World Wars and World Civilizations. I love Geography too, so I'm sort of like a social studies nerd. I like grapes. I don't know how that could work with a novel, but sure, why not?

I love my cousin and I love being with her, and a long time ago, my cousin and I came up with a little story, mostly inside jokes, between us. She asked me, one day, about how it would be like if we changed up those characters and actually put them into a real, legit story instead of our crazy "realistic" story. So we began brainstorming, and we came up with an idea that we really liked. It was a futuristic setting about a country lost in it's own civil war. I began to write about it, because I thought it was so cool. But after nine chapters I began to slow down and lose interest in it, because the way I was thinking felt stupid to me. So I gave up, and yes, it hurt both of us.

I think you know where this is going. I want to start it again, and add some of my own likings to it to make it exciting and popular. If I'll like it, and if my cousin will like it (Which, for the record, she's not a reading person, so that's a big score) and if my dad likes it, then I'm sure I'm on the right track. That's what I want to do. To be frank, I don't know about Wvern's Destruction. I put a lot into it, but I was just never certain. I mean, I created a huge country for Geography and stuff, and I put meaning and value of that country into my story, and I thought I was doing really good, but I didn't know how to do the point of views, and there were just too many characters, and their names were messed, and it's modern but I tried to make it medieval fantasy, and it just didn't work. I'll probably pick it up again later in life, but for now, I want to start fresh and try again. I'm still not sure if using a plot outline will work, or if I should just wing it, because neither proved to help me in the past, so I'm uncertain of how to start it and see what will happen. I think I need another sleepover with my cousin. ;)

Anyway, that's my supposed goal now. Along with writing short stories, but I don't think I'll get my 36 Plot Line resolution completed this year. It is a lot of short stories, and a lot of time. So I think I'll just keep reading whatever I can and begin this new Idea.

Never Mind

I'm just going to stop trying. I don't know anymore. I don't know when we're moving, because it's not Saturday anymore, and I don't know where. Just....I'll drop it.

Finally!!!

It's what I've been waiting for! We are officially moving, and we have official approval for a house in Orem. I'm so psyched! I finally know where I'm going, and I don't have to worry anymore. We're moving out of this stinky house! I'm so so so excited! They just haven't told me which one it is yet...it was down to two. Hmm....I've seen one of them, but not the other...oh well. This is good news, I've already basically packed my whole room and have it all sitting in a little corner under my tall loft bed. :O Check it out!

Yes sir, that's my junk all condensed into boxes. You can't see them all, but there are 10 boxes, a big bowl chair, a curtain pole, three posters, a tennis racket, and yet to come: The clothes. So all in all, my room isn't that cluttered. I actually threw a lot of stuff away. It felt good to throw that kind of junk away, but at the same time, sad, because I'm unsure of when I'd need that stuff again. not that I touch it very often. I had to throw away my music box from when I was a little girl. It was hurtful.

Festival of Colors

I didn't want another multi-subject post, so I'm taking the liberty to rant about my events of yesterday, March 26th, in a new, fresh entry. It's titled Festival of Colors. Considering I don't have very many readers, and most live in or around Utah, I'm sure you know what it is. They do these major events at certain times of the year, and this Festival in particular is for the welcoming of spring at the Sri Sri Radha Krishna Temple in Spanish Fork, Utah. Basically, people know it because you get to throw colored powder at each other and everyone around you. It's popular. I mean, everyone at school was talking about it.

Kaylynn and I decided we wanted to go. Now this is the cool part, because we invited Brett, but he couldn't come, (Sorry, that wasn't cool) so instead Kaylynn invited our friend Nahuel. It was a spur of the moment sort of thing, and amazingly, he could come! So Kaylynn's mom gave us a ride down to the Festival of Colors, and we were all dressed up in white (Except Nahuel, who didn't necessarily know we were going to throw talcum at him) for the festival. We got food, graciousness from Kaylynn's mother, and then headed into the party. It is situated next to a Llama farm, which was pretty weird, but I got to see Llamas! Anyway, even as we went in, we were being hit with powder. Nahuel kept saying how he didn't like where this was going, and that he was already regretting coming, especially after a guy threw orange powder straight into his face. (Nahuel made it very clear that the stuff tasted very gross, but that it was scented.) I had fun being hit by plumes of colored dust, I was dressed up and didn't care how I looked at the moment. In fact, by the time we got to a gazebo where we could buy our powder, I was pretty colorful even then. Kaylynn and I bought our colors, glad to have something to throw, and it was pretty cool, because we found our good friend Drew there, already splashed with yellows and pinks.

We lost him, but we continued on through the giant mob of people, throwing it at everyone and anyone. They had a hippie band there, playing music and chanting some words I couldn't make out, and we were allowed to go up to the temple. We could even go in, but we had to take our shoes off and blow off any excess dust. Kaylynn, Nahuel, and I didn't bother. Nahuel made a snarky comment and I emptied a bag of pink dust all over his head...took him a while to forgive me for that. He was pretty pink though. Kaylynn talked about how they did this thing every two hours, and that we were here for the three o' clock one. I had no idea what she was talking about until it happened. It was so weird and cool. They did a countdown up at the mic, and everyone counted with them. On one, everyone shouted Hare Krishna and drew all their powder into the air. I saw a cloud of blackness. I couldn't breathe for five seconds too! All I could see what Kaylynn and Nahuel in front of me, probably kissing, and people everywhere jumping and shouting. Finally the wind blew it away, and I could see the grey sky ahead. It was crazy, I'll tell you that much.

Going home was an adventure. I'd like to point out that I knew where I was, but my parents just couldn't find me. Spanish Fork is weird. We were colorful, and got approval from other equally colorful people as we left and made our way towards a highway. It was there that my dad got all irritated and stuff, but they found us finally, and we drove home in good cheer, for the most part. I think Nahuel didn't have AS fun a time as me and Kaylynn, but he'll look back and laugh.

As for me, I thought it was a fun experience, something new. It felt sort of sacrilegious, but cool to feel that religion also. I definitely won't forget it. Might go a second time next year...might.

Decided

Looking at this old house, and having been in it for six years, made me think. Yes, I'm moving. We won't be moving into a house this big, because we don't have enough money right now, but I figured I'm just going to have to live with it. I have a secured place to go for a little while until school ends, and that's with my best friend, so I feel a lot better. I want to spend as much time with her as possible, and that's just what I'll do. I gave up a boyfriend, a dog, a lot of my junk I wanted to keep, and a bad attitude about moving. It's a fact of life. In fact, I'm more frightened by the idea of moving out than just relocating right now, so it'll be alright. The most comforting piece of information, however, is what Kaylynn told me. She goes to her dad's every other Saturday (Unless there's a tournament) and he lives in Orem. Hey, I'm moving to Orem. Fancy that! During the summer, we can hang out too, and I'm thinking about dragging Kaylynn with me to the new house so she can help me unpack and set up my room, just how I want it. All in all, she won't be totally gone, and I admit, I was being dramatic a little bit. Sometimes though, I just have to let those emotions out anyway. The important thing is that now I'm okay with this, and that I'm going to go with my head held high.

You know what I've always wanted to do with my bedroom downstairs? Paint it Lime Green, Orange, and Yellow. Geometric figures added. Have a shower curtain hanging from my loft bed. Have mutli-colored lights. I've always wanted a room like that, just so I could go there and feel like myself. I don't want to be dark and emo, even if that's how I feel sometimes. It's the bright colors that inspires my writings, and it's my writings that are the most important. I want brightly colored pillows for my black chair, and I want a comforter and bed set for my full bed that is just as brightly colored. I don't know about the walls, but I'm sure I can do that now, or at least lick the top of the cone to get that taste. I'll save up more money, go all out with my bedroom. If only I had a house we've bought, and that we'll be in for a while. Oh well.

The biggest concern, despite the new bedroom, is the lack of bathrooms. I wish I could have my own complete bathroom,all to myself, without the boys there. Most houses on a 2400 sq. ft. plan have 2-3 baths. One for the master. One for the rest of the whole darn house. How could that be fair anyway? If we do only get one bathroom for us kids, I'm spending as little time in there as I can. Shower, teeth, that's it. I'll do hair and makeup in my room, like I usually do here. It's frustrating, especially when you have to improvise a vanity and desk all in one. I don't really have a desk. It's more like a weird computer desk with no leg room and a long, broken body mirror behind it. I hate it. I want a new desk. It's freaking heavy too! I hope we get to throw it away. Far far away. Away from civilization. *Sigh* I wish I had money.

Her Unpending Happiness Is All That Matters Now

She's my best friend, you know? So just as a mother would to her crying daughter, I felt that emotion she felt. It was amazing to see her accomplishments, to watch her grades go from low to high in just one day. Granted, it was the very last day of the term, but she still did it. She's really good at negotiating, I realized. Term Two she made her citizenship grades straight O's which means "outstanding" by just explaining her dire need to have those to teachers. So when her late work due date passed, and she still had late work to turn in, she managed to get that late work in on the very last day, just because both teachers were fine with it. I don't know about you, but I doubt a teacher would do that for me. They always just say "It was last Wednesday, too bad." Thank goodness I learn not to procrastinate until this day, but she does. She got all of her work in, got good grades, and was granted permission to go to a friend's house where she would get to see a friend she hadn't seen in over seven months. It amazes me how addictive her rare, spastic happiness is. I immediately felt it when she experienced it. It was probably the most happiness I've seen in her for a while. Life's been tough on her, of course, and on me through her, but she's managed to keep up without going to drastic measures. I'm so proud of her for that. However, her happiness just fogged up my inner feelings. I'm so glad everything worked out for her, I truly am. I'm envious right now, to be honest. Why can't anything work out the way I want it?  But another side to this question I need to consider and go over is the "Have to" side and acceptance. I know I have to, and you know what? It's not like my parents are going to drag me kicking and screaming. I'm doing all I can to see the positives. But you know, It's okay to be sad about this and let out my emotions and NOT be called a baby or wimp because I don't want to leave. Yes, I know fully well that I'll meet new friends, have Facebook for my old friends, phone, whatever. But guess what? It's just not the same. These friends I'm leaving behind are the ones that got me through the worst stage of school a girl can go through: Junior High. I can't just ditched them so easily. I don't know WHAT I'm going to do without my best best best best best friend in the whole wide world. (Brett, I know you'll feel left out, so I'm mentioning you as my best best best guyfriend too.) I swear, they're probably the only two who read my blog other than the 'rents.

My parents are chill, they always let me go out when I want to, because to be honest, I don't ask for much. I know a lot of teenage girls out there who keep being bratty to their parents and asking, asking, asking for more. Me? I'm good with what I have, but occasionally I do want something, and most of the time, I try to save up for it myself. It's just that now, I've still lost that hundred...hasn't turned up yet...and I sort of need money to go to La Caille after spring break...oh and to get some powder at the Festival of Colors tomorrow. So...until my next babysitting job, I'm sort of at a pause. Lately, I haven't needed to rely on my parent's money, because I was always comforted by the fact that I had money in case something happened or came up. I mean, It's good to know you have a hundred you can pick at once in a while. I'm not like girls who take their money and blow it off all in one day. I try not to that is. It's cool to spend money, but everything is so expensive now, I just try not to. I need a real job, that's the problem.

Oh. And I need my permit. (Addressing Mom and Dad, who I KNOW read this blog.) They're always going off about how they didn't get their permits until sixteen or seventeen and whatever, but this isn't the 80's anymore. It's gotten safer, and at fifteen, teens are getting more responsible, (I admit, not all) and with proper instruction, they can do it. Besides, if you want your license by sixteen so you can actually WORK, you need 40 hours to put in, and when better than to do it during your fifteenth year when you're unemployed still? I personally like the idea of driving my dad around on his business ventures and stuff, that will get me some good hours during the summer. Btw, I'm really responsible. My grades are in good shape. And I think after all the helping I've done, I deserve to be able to get my permit and begin driving. It's also about peers too. I have a lot of friends who are getting their permits between the span of my birthday, (December) to April, and I'm feeling really left out. If I have to, I'll converge all of this into a persuasive essay and show my parents just how persuasive and educated I can be. I really want to start driving now. I want to know how it feels to really be behind the wheel. I want to feel like an adult now. I can't do that when they hold me back.

So in conclusion to this varied-subject post, Kaylynn is all that matters now, since I'm going to be moving away. I'd rather focus on her and be numb to the situation than sob into my pillow about my leave. Also, I'd like to note that I'm becoming more of an individual and want my license. It's just something to note, because since my parents read this blog, they might as well get messages I can't convey in person. It's hard to talk in person, when you're so much better at writing it out. That's the problem with me, I think I'll forever be a writer now. No one can take that away from me anymore. So, gutentag, Mindy's out.

Giving Him Up

I am watchful and trustworthy

I am strong and energetic

I am reckless and curious

I am scared but loving

My beauty is unforgettable

My memories are never enough

But when you cry

Just know that I'll be fine.

Who Am I?

                                               -Mindy Christen

I watched my dog drive away today. I was strong while we forced him into the small car with the nice woman. I was strong while they gazed upon his beautiful golden fur. I was strong while they talked of spoiling him. I was even strong when I watched his gentleness towards the toddler who petted him. The problem was, as I watched them close the door on my frightened dog, watched him slowly get used to the inside of the car, watched the car turn on and pull away from the curb, I broke. I doubt I'll see him for a while if they decide to keep him. Sure, I'll be given chances to go see how he's doing...but will that be good for me? To see him happy in the care of even better owners? I don't think I'll be strong enough to see him eat from the other food, to see him run around a fenced in yard. What if, by that time, he doesn't remember me? He doesn't remember his brother...So I cry for him: for my broken attachment to him, for Tyler, who refuses to be sad that he is gone, for those days when I won't be able to look out the window and listen to his barks. Sure, he was annoying, and maybe we didn't play with him as much as he should, but it was always comforting to know that he was out there, watching. It took the neighbors two years to finally get used to him. They were so scared of him, but soon, each one became braver and braver, each taking turns to pet his big blocky head. He was pure bred, come from a long line of healthy, perfect golden retrievers. He was perfect for a show dog. He was beautiful. His fur was so soft and golden. 

It wasn't just the physical aspects though. I swear, Hondo had a personality no dog I've ever seen had. He always bowed his head and laid on the ground when my parents and I came out to greet him. If it was one of the boys, he would just jump around and try to greet their faces. He was scared of water. Anytime someone would sprinkle water on him, or the hose flipped on, immediately he would be cowering away in the corner of the yard, limited by his long chain. His baths were difficult, because he'd get cold with the water and wouldn't sit still sometimes, but other times, like later in his young life, he would just sit still and wait for it to be over, because he knew we would just keep him there until we were satisfied. Every time the neighbors would come out to play, Hondo would bark at them and want desperately to get in on the fun, just to maybe chase them around. But by the time we let him off, his mind would switch gears and he'd play with another dog or go exploring in the neighbor's flowers. Whenever we introduced him to something new, however, he would shake with terror, because he was scared. You'd think a big dog like him wouldn't be scared, but he is so sensitive and shaky that he would just tremble in fear until it was over. He was always scared of going into the house, even though he knew it was warm inside. I had to hold him for five minutes inside the laundry hall, and during those five minutes, he just shook and shivered. I kept my voice low and soothing, until I let him back into the garage. He never likes the car, because we didn't ever take him anywhere in a car. So we usually had to lift him into the car before he'd calm down. When I blow dried his wet fur though, he was shaking and trembling so hard, that David had to keep petting him and telling him it would be okay, even though I had it on Low-Warm. I thought he would have liked the warmth, but he's too much of a Utah dog for that. He can survive the cold. 

So now, he's off with the nice nice lady, probably having a blast with the wind in his face. All I can do now, is accept that there is an empty pen outside, a loose chain with no dog attached to it, and an unoccupied water bowl sitting in the sun. 

I'm sad he's gone.