Sunday 27 July 2014

Reassessing My Goals

At this point in my project I'm almost at the end of the storyline. That's not to say that I've said everything I want or need. Which means I have to do a certain amount of backtracking and rewriting. So my goal for the next week is to spend an hour everyday working on my project in some form. I don't expect to get my 800 words written every day but that's not the most important thing now.

Good luck to everyone else this weeks and thanks for all the encouragement you've been giving me!

Wednesday 16 July 2014

Row, Row, Row Your Boat

Writing is hard. Writing every day is hard. Being a writer is hard. I've fallen a bit behind in my writing schedule. I could blame it on writer's block or I could say my grandmother died, you won't know if I'm lying either way. Truth is I just haven't tried in a couple of days. Okay, I did try but not hard enough. I know this is a character flaw and it's no excuse but writing is hard.

I don't mean to whine, honestly. I don't have a lot of perseverance. I'm working on it I promise.

I need to stop making promises. I never keep them.

Sunday 13 July 2014

Let's Get Together and Write

This is my Sunday check in with ROW80. I've kept to my word count of 800 per day and made up on my lost time as well giving me a grand total of 4867 words. I'm realising more than ever that the first draft is always going to be really shitty. I know my idea is good and I know I have some writing ability but at the moment the idea isn't coming together how I'd like. This is partly because I'm still not one hundred percent sure of everything I want to convey.
I'm enjoying the writing process however and I'm very optimistic about where this is going. Bring on week two!

And always remember, writing is when you make the sentences. Editing is when you make them good.

An Arctic Monkeys' Concert and Other Firsts

Yesterday, the 12 of July marked a lot of firsts for me. Many of them my seem incidental but trust me they are very important. Let's go through some of them.

First Concert
After many struggles and arguments - see here for details - my parents finally allowed me to go to an Arctic Monkeys concert. I have never exactly understood the huge appeal of concerts - I mean you're lost in a crowd of smelly strangers with a limited view of the stage and the act with everyone screaming and singing out of tune right next to your ear. Doesn't sound fantastic. But it was. It was so fantastic. It's a really freeing and exciting feeling to be surrounded by thousands and thousands of people who feel at least as passionately about the music they're listening to as you do. I don't remember the last time I felt so alive, so liberated.

First time to be chatted up by an older guy
Before the concert began my friends and I were sitting on a grassy area talking and waiting. This group of guys were sitting next to us and one of them turns to me and asks what my favourite Arctic Monkey's songs is. In my surprise I stupidly say the first thing that comes into my head which doesn't happen to be a song at all. 'Do you wanna know' is definitely not an Arctic Monkeys' song. What I'd meant was 'Do wanna know' and I might of gotten away with it but unfortunately he noticed. Not to mention that is definitely not my favourite song. These guys looked about twenty-two and when I was asked what age I was I hesitated for a moment, considered lying and then decided it was unlikely to achieve any desirable end so I went with the truth - seventeen. I then returned the question and he also hesitated, probably the same thoughts going through his head as had just passed through mine. Except he apparently came to a different conclusion and replied, eighteen. Pfft. Yeah right. We talked for a bit about the band and the other acts and then moved on.

First Mosh-Pit
Myself and my friends were pretty near to the front of the crowd when we suddenly found ourselves in a mosh-pit. It just started, out of nowhere and we were just like - this is not where we want to be. If we hadn't made our way out of it we would have been shoved out of it pretty soon anyway.

First UFO
I'm aware that flying bottles and rubbish are a common thing at concerts. What I was not expecting was a heavy, pink schoolbag to fall though the air, hitting my friend on the head. It had barely landed when someone caught it up again and chucked it away, back into the crowd. I mean, whatever you're into right?

First time to remove an unwanted arm from a shoulder
By the time the main act came on we were tired of being sandwiched between people, grinded on and pushed back and forth so we moved to the outer side of the crowd and watched much more comfortably from there. My friend Danielle and I were minding our own business and enjoying the band and then a guy about our age glanced back at Danielle. Then he did it again immediately after almost as you would if you had just recognised someone. Then he did it a third time like she had a fucking elephant on her head or something. Naturally enough Danielle and I had a bit of a laugh at this strange encounter. It might be relevant to add that I'm pretty certain he was smoking weed. But then a while later we had moved so that we were standing next to the guy who I might mention was singing incorrect lyrics also. Anyway he was with his girlfriend and they looked pretty cosy with his arm wrapped around her shoulder. Then suddenly Danielle stared at me and I looked at her to see what was up. She looked shocked and I was really surprised to see an arm around her shoulder. She told me later that she had thought it was my arm around her at first. The weed-smoking, lyric-failing guy had his right arm wrapped around his girlfriend and his left draped over Danielle's shoulder. It was the strangest, thing to see and Danielle just looked to perplexed and unsure what to do that I asked her if I should move his arm. So I sort of knocked this guy's arm off her shoulder and we went back to enjoying the music.

First time to be mistaken for a babysitter
We were trying to make our way out of the main crowd area after the third supporting act. My previously mentioned friend Danielle is a small Filipina. As we were trying to push through the hoards of squashed bodies and defiant concert goers she heard someone say something like "Let them through there's a child!" Which of course we found very amusing afterwards.

First time to have literally no idea what is happening
When Danielle and I went out to the edge of the crowd this cute couple came up to us suddenly and started asking us frantic questions so quickly with such a strong accent that neither of us had a clue what was happening. They sounded so anxious like the answers to the questions were the most important things in the universe and they needed them right now. All I could make out was that they were asking us something about Alex Turner (Arctic Monkeys' front man, notorious asshat). Danielle actually thought they were talking a different language they were so incomprehensible. So the two of us just stared blankly at them completely lost for words. And then the couple began to look really worried and also confused and scared. It just made for a really strange, confusing encounter. But once they slowed down and actually started talking sense they turned out the be the sweetest. I've completely forgotten their names now but when they introduced themselves the boy said "I'm __ and this is my girlfriend __ she's fucking perfect" in the most nonchalant, casual way possible. They were completely adorable and just a bit drunk.

First time to not have a pen when I needed it
Let me tell you something about myself. I always bring a pen with me. Wherever I go. Even if I don't bring paper I bring a pen. Yesterday morning I had to minimise the space I took up in my bag so that I could fit my jacket in it if it got really hot. I decided there was probably no reason I might need a pen at a concert and so I left it out. As it happens I never put my jacket in my bag. On the bus ride home I couldn't help eavesdropping on a conversation in the seat behind me relating to Breaking Bad one of my all-time favourite TV shows. Then one of the boys leaned forward and asked if I had a pen so he could draw on his friend's face. Yep. The perfect conversation opener into a conversation I really wanted to join and nope. Nope. No pen. Jesus, I will never leave a pen out again.

First time to crush on a nameless faceless man
Let's just say that guy who asked me for a pen? By the end of that bus journey I had maybe a small crush on him. He just sounded really interesting okay! I think we'd get on well.
I never even saw his face though because the bus was so dark. So I don't know his name or what he looks like but I know the sound of his voice and I know we're totally soul-mates. Things will work themselves out.

First cigarette burn
Pretty self explanatory. A man next to me was smoking and carelessly waving around his cigarette which was held against my arm for a second before I realised what I was feeling. Yeah, I was feeling a red hot ember pressed against my skin.

First time to have someone spill a drink on me
Not long after the cigarette incident one of the women that was there with the man spilled some sort of weird drink that smelt like herbal tea down my leg. I'm basically living every Hollywood High School party where the unpopular girl gets a drink accidentally spilled on her by the jealous popular girl. #lifecomplete


The Woesome Tale of a Maybe-Concert Goer

Here's the low down: I wanted to go to a concert, my parents were totally against it, I told them the father of a friend would be attending also, they eventually agreed. I ordered the tickets, they realised that they would be in Italy at the time of the concert, had a little freak out, calmed down and were brought around. Then my mum was speaking to the mother of said friend who's dad was supposed to be going to the concert and it turned out he was no longer going. They had another freak out, insisted I give the names and addresses of every person going to the concert with me and then they would consider re-re-allowing me to attend.

Here's my problem, my parents act like they're living in the 1950s. When I asked what they wanted the addresses of my friends for at first they refused to tell me. If that doesn't smell of shame hell knows what does. Eventually I coerced it out of my mum who said and I quote, "You can tell a lot about a person from where they live."
I was literally shocked into silence by this remark. I know my parents are a pain and ridiculously protective and they believe that anyone who looks at their daughter is a potential predator but I didn't think they were that prejudiced. I was so angry with her I couldn't trust myself to speak so I said nothing.

I understand that my parents are worried for my safety and they see it as their responsibility to protect me but there comes a point where they need to let go. Obviously my opinion on the matter differs from them and I've given up trying to make them see it my way because they are just so stuck in their beliefs. I don't think it's their responsibility to protect me. It's their responsibility to educate me and make me alert of the dangers that face me in the world (something they have never even TRIED to do btw) but I am a person. Just because I'm under 18 it does not make me less than a person. I should be made responsible for my actions and the dangers I face. If I were caught breaking the law I would be responsible for the repercussions not my parents. So why is this situation any different? I need to learn sometime how to take care of myself in the real world. If they continue shrouding me in their comfort blanket of protection they are simple making me more vulnerable when i turn 18 and am suddenly completely responsible for my life.
I angers me so much that they can't see this no matter how much I try to explain it. They are so utterly convinced that they no better because they are adults and my parents.

The end of the story is that yesterday I finally went to the Arctic Monkey's concert supported by Jake Bugg and Royal Blood - my first concert - and it was the single best day of my life. More on that soon I hope. Also in case you were wondering the list of numbers and addresses I gave my parents were mostly fake because I didn't know them. That's probably the most rebellious thing I've done in my life.

Friday 11 July 2014

Music Made Me An Anxious Child

I recently started listening to a podcast called Radiolab. This blogpost will make much more sense to you if you first listen to this incredibly interesting podcast about how electro-waves can improve learning and performance ability.

I'm going to go right ahead and assume you've listened to it now.

When I was about 7 I started taking piano lessons because my mother wanted me to learn. I never wanted to play and I never enjoyed taking lessons or practicing but I did it to please my mum. I was an anxious child and my music teacher was a 'slave driver', my dad would say. I was terrified of messing up and looking like I hadn't practiced or worse that I was just too stupid to remember the notes. She pushed me hard and expected me to practice for an hour every day. As a kid who felt miserable after playing half a scale I would cut practice sessions short and whenever possible lie to my mother, saying I'd practiced when I hadn't. I hated it. I hated my teacher. I hated my mother for getting me into it and I hated myself for continuing to put up with it and not asking to quit.

But sometimes I'd get into a zone very like the one described in that podcast. I'd no longer be concentrating on each individual note and on what came next and whether I had the right tempo. The song just seemed to flow from my fingers and the music played like I was born to be a musician. I'd be in a kind of daze for the duration of the song and before I knew it, it was over and I hadn't made a single mistake. Occasionally I'd snap out of this zone somewhere in the middle of the song and I'd immediately be filled with cold dread and anxiety, afraid that I'd been playing the wrong song, wrong notes, made a tonne of mistakes - any number of worries would pop into my head-like the gnomes Sally describes. Because I thought I hadn't been paying attention. It felt like I hadn't been paying attention. As though I were in a daydream and I could've been like that for an hour or two minutes, I couldn't say. It was more intense than any daydream though, it was like I had fully dropped off to sleep.

I have never understood this mindset that I got into until listening to this podcast. At the time I considered the possibility that it was my brain's way of coping with the distress I felt every time I played. A sort of mode it went into so I didn't have to experience the stress and angst. I finally quit piano lessons and I've never since felt that way so strongly. Sometimes when I write I get this stream of thought that seems to flow from nowhere and it's the best thing I've ever written and after five minutes I look to the clock and see an hour and a half has passed. It's not quite the same feeling though. It's very difficult to explain. It's a less vivid version of that zone I would slip into when playing.

Like Sally in the podcast said, it became rather addictive to me also. I felt a yearning to feel the calm and serenity every time I sat in front of the keyboard. It was a meditative, almost zen feeling. I haven't thought about any of this in years but that podcast brought back memories.

Tuesday 8 July 2014

A Round of Words in 79 Days

Just this moment I discovered a writing challenge that has me very excited.
I tried NaNoWriMo two years ago and it simply did not work for me. A Round of Words in 80 Days is a super exciting project and despite being a day late I'm going to leap onto the bandwagon.


My goal is to write 800 words a day for 80 days. I'm working on my first novel and 64000 sounds like a good word count. And of course it's going to be a masterpiece because everyone's first novel is a master piece.
Right?

Here's a new mantra I borrowed from a fantastic writer, Chuck Wendig, who's blog led me to ROW80:

I am the commander of these words.
I am the King of this story.
I am the God of this place.
I am a writer and I will finish the shit that I started. Amen.

Tuesday 1 July 2014

Welcome to July!

The first month of my summer has passed me by and as per usual I haven't done a thing. That's a lie of course, in fact I've done many things such as watch a great number of movies, begin and complete numerous TV shows.


Of course I do leave the house sometimes. If only to avoid an inevitable argument with my darling mother.


And pretend that I live in a parallel universe where the mastermind of a criminal organisation is hiding out in an old ruin by my house. I've done some reading too as I've previously mentioned and even a little writing. I haven't been great on the blogging front of course.


Or take pretty pictures to convince myself that I'm not wasting my summer. I still don't believe it though.

Oh and while I'm at it I started another blog a few months back -where I procrastinate from this blog- which you can find on Wordpress.