About Me

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J is an unpublished author, represented by Carrie Pestritto of Prospect Agency. J's first novel is a YA fantasy horror, regarding a siren who must choose between the haunting life and humanity. J draws on occasion, reads quite often, and is a founding member of the critique group 'Thoughtical Verbosity.'

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

A Berry Melated Christmas!

Hello all! I suppose as a responsible blogger I should have got some brief message up on one of my internet hubs and hollered my holiday greetings at you hooligans. Alas and alackaday, that did not happen. I was busy celebrating the holidays.

And yet, here I am, wishing you the very best of end-of-year celebrations! New Year's is coming up soon, and I am delighted to say that I have the weekend off from work. Huzzah! That means I'll actually be around when friend Amber and her lovely children come over, and I can finally give them their Christmas gifts. Yay!

I hope you all had a fabulous Christmas. I know I did. Knowing that a return to school is (hopefully) in my future, I went all out this year with my gift-giving with the unofficial understanding that the pickin's will be rather more slim in 2011. My philosophy on money is rather simple: It's just money. At a certain age, you can and will be making more. Should you squirrel away some for the future? Yes. And increasingly 'yes' as time marches on. But when you're at a certain whimsical age and you have little better to do than travel to exotic places and spoil nieces, nephews and siblings...don't be a Scrooge!

Unless you're in school, in which case the Scrooging will happen for you.

And the time spent with family was a lot of fun. Between work and just plain not living together, I don't see most of my other siblings all that much. This year I even got to see them all at once for a few brief moments; something that generally only occurs at weddings and funerals.

A few days after Christmas, I went out and bought myself something rather exciting: a new Flip camera. I've named it Jeffries. And with our power combined, soon you'll have my mug and melodious voice to accompany the blog. Yeehaw! Be prepared.

Well, until I see (in this case having the unique definition of 'blindly write to') you again!


Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Level 23

Hello friends/people I've never met but might get along with!

Today is a momentous day in my life. It is the first and last time I shall ever turn 23. Unless, of course, I turn into one of those anal old ladies who can't look my own wrinkly self in the face and I decide to lie about my age. I mean, 9.5 times out of 9 this year, I've given someone a random number when they ask how old I'll be. Once or twice I've happily explained how my grandchildren will be coming to the jubilee. So I guess you just never can tell.

Anywho, I am now 23 years old! Huzzah! I think I'll make puppy-eyes and whine at Big Sis until she makes me birthday cupcakes or something.

With each passing year, however, I am made to think of my writing goals. The big one is to have Ze Book published before my 25th birthday. Or at least to have Ze Book being published by my 25th year. That means I've got exactly two years left. I figure if I keep up a good pace, I can have Ze Book written and ready for the presses halfway into 2011. From there, however, it's a mad dash trying to get someone to read and become obsessed with it to the point that they make the investment of publication.

It's a long path ahead of me, but I'm thrilled. I love what I do with the words and the pages and the stories and all that stuff. It's the most frustrating and invigorating thing I've ever done. Unless we're counting that thing with the Rubiks Cube and the crocodiles. But that's a whole different birthday story.

Well, I hope you all have a lovely day, because I sure as heck will :)



Friday, December 3, 2010

Inspired by Raging and Quickly Forgotten Fight

Since moving in with the Hendersons (composed of XX-year old Sandi, XX-year old Dustin, 6 year-old Eliza and 5-year-old Ethan) my horizons have expanded. Nay, blossomed. Belay that ‘nay,’ expanded. I’ve eaten things that have previously disturbed me, made leaps and bounds in my toddler-level writing career, and participated in various heathen rituals that I shan’t go into at this time due to various contracts.

I’ve also learned things about myself as a person which I simply hadn’t cared to know before. How much money am I really willing to spend to allow myself some freedom? (At least enough to cover rent). Why do I really want to graduate from college? (Because I can). Where did I leave my keys? (My nephew hid them in his shoes as a joke). Exactly how much of a nerd am I? (Judging by the fact that I can have lucid conversation with my Broinlaw* about Star Wars and when people will make it to Mars, a pretty big one).

I’m also learning how to DO new things. Like cooking. Sort of. Slowly. Sandi and Dustin are both very good cooks; living with them has resulted in my palatial boundaries broadening and my waistline slowly shrinking (yay!). The fact that I used to consider Fuddruckers to be borderline gourmet apparently bothered them, and in hopes of having a Broinlaw of their own someday, have made the staggering decision to try and teach me their ways. Working full time and trying to get Ze Book finished has made the process slow, but I’ve picked up a few tips already. Like steak being seared, or whatever.

What inspired all of this semi-philosophizing? The other night, Sandi and I had what may well be our second real argument. The fact that it was pretty much forgotten five minutes later says great things about our relationship, but the way it got started and the way it was carried out was very informative about how different we are as people. Belay that; how different we are as…actually, no, ‘people’ works fine.

The argument was about a piece of writing by our friend, Amber. We had completely different views on it, though we agreed it was well written and could have a huge market. Any pretense and mature debate went out the window pretty fast, and the really steamy part of the discussion went something like this:

(the red-head that pops in is probably Dustin)
“You don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“I do, you just don’t like that I disagree with you and-“
“No, you’re just interpreting it wrong!”
“Shut up!”
“You can’t say stuff like that and not expect to be interrupt-“

It’s funny looking back at it, and really we were laughing most of the way through anyway. That’s one of the wonderful things about being snarky, even a bitter feud over a friend’s short story is humorous.

But later, it got me thinking about how different Sandi and I are (and how good of a thing it is that we agree on almost everything, considering how ugly it is when we don’t).

You see, Sandi and I both have creative aspirations (okay, okay, SHE has a creative career, whilst I have creative aspirations). But they manifest in very different ways. Sandi is like the ship's captain, military-clean, ornately simple and absolutely sure of her own style. She rules a ship of stiff upper lips and unyielding perfection; it is a beautiful ship and, obviously, very successful.
I, on the other hand, am the lacksadaisical beach bum who watches the ship sail off to uncharted regions. I've got my jungle behind me, and have created my tree fort and monkey lounge area which can be taken apart and wiggled around for other purposes with the same function of a swiss army knife. I know what I want to create, and a big part of that is leaving some elbow-room for others to take from it what they will.

Perhaps that's why I'm into the writing thing, and Sandi's into the fabric designing thing. Or perhaps I've got it all wrong.
Either way, I'm glad for the influence the Henderson Clan has had on me. And I'm glad that I did eventually find my keys.

*Broinlaw: Brother-in-Law, one who is considered an inseperable part of one’s family, rather than the sort one secretly hopes will choke on their wedding toast drink and quickly be replaced.