On writing and distractions

I recently read a blog post on Procrastinating Writers about how to avoid distraction while writing.  Articles like this always appeal to me because sometimes, a lot of the time, I am very easily distracted.  I feel like I only rarely get into a zone of complete focus and am able to work solely on one given task/project/story for a given length of time without taking a break to do something else in-between.  Perhaps a side effect of my constant need to be multitasking....?

In any case, I really did find value in the advice listed out in the blog post.  An eye opener for me right off the bat: the first two recommendations were about distancing yourself from the computer.  Or, better yet, from computer applications, Internet, games, etc.  

What a truly novel idea.  I guess I had never thought before about how distracting simply being on your computer can be....even if one is on the computer for the purpose of writing!  Luckily for me my writing computer is not hooked up to the Internet, but I still have games and music applications on there that I sometimes mess around with while trying to write, not to mention my iPhone, which gives me instant access to email and the greatest time vampire of them all: Facebook. 

Writing is a very solitary act.  It is not a group event and it is not something that can be done in conjunction with several other activities.  A writer has to be willing to isolate themselves, to face the thoughts and ideas in their head, and commit to getting them down on paper.  When too many outside forces come into contact with you trying to write, the result is, well, there usually isn't any result because it's usually too hard to focus and actually form complete sentences.  TV, Internet sites, games, phones, even music can sometimes just be too much competition for someone trying to write.  

Why had this never occurred to me before?  How many times had I sat down in my office, a story pulled up on Microsoft Word just waiting to be further developed, and I was too preoccupied with finding the perfect song on my play list?  How many times had I sat there responding to text messages, ultimately breaking my concentration and my train of thought?  

This is a true testament to the times we live in.  Honestly, it's amazing we are able to get anything done with all the different technologies we have access to and are able to utilize each and every day.  For a writer, these different technologies, these various distractions, have no place or purpose when one is trying to bring life to a story.  I realize that each of us is able to focus and create under varying circumstances, and while some people can type away without a pause while music is blaring in the background, others of us need the quietness of an empty room in order to hear what is happening in our creative imaginations. 

Do I dare go back in time?  To tackle my writing without the aid of modern technologies?  I am referring, of course, to the longhand method of pen and paper.  Do I even remember how to write this way?

I'm sure it's just like riding a bike.   

On Themes

I read a lot of blogs, some religiously, some only on occasion.  Some are professional blogs while others are just everyday people sharing their thoughts and ideas.  I think our fascination (or some people's fascination) with blogs is the fact that these blogs are another source of insight into another person.  Compelling characters always make the best stories, and in that same vein blogs with compelling authors make the best reading. 

One thing I notice about most of the blogs I read is that they all have some kind of theme.  Maybe not in all the posts, but usually there is an underlying commonality that is shared throughout, something that ties everything together.  Reading back through some of my posts, I'm not sure that there is any kind of theme.  I guess in some way writing and writing is a bit of a common denominator through a lot of my posts, but they are scattered throughout and overall the blog just feels kind of.....random. 

Is this bad?  Am I floating in the blogosphere with no direction, completely wasting my time?  Should I have a mission, a goal with each post, or is it okay to write on a whim and mix things up? 

In a way I'm not entirely surprised that I never settled on a true theme for my blog.  Back in the day when people still burned CD's (and yes I still do that), I never stuck to one type of music for a single CD.  I would mix some rap songs in with some country, throw in a couple tunes from Ray Charles, then maybe finish it out with a throwback song from my middle school days.  I like randomness, I like surprise, and sometimes I just don't feel like committing to a set direction. 

I feel like I'm something of a walking contradiction.  On the one hand I thrive on routine and having a set plan, and on the other I yearn for change and unexpectedness.  How exactly can these two very different feelings coexist within me?

Maybe this blog is the outlet.  The sounding board for the random side of me to explore those thoughts and feelings that the routine side of me doesn't always embrace.  If that is the case, then I am prepared to sail along with my blog, theme-free and ever-changing.  I won't cage myself into a single topic but will instead dare myself to write about anything and everything that interests me on a given day.

And on those days when nothing seems to interest me, I can always blog about my love for Peanuts.  Random or not, one must always have a fallback plan.

Morning pages

This week I am embarking on an experiment with my writing.  I was inspired to try this after a post I read on the Procrastinating Writers blog, in which the author related her findings after two weeks of writing Morning Pages.  The idea behind this exercise is to get your thoughts, ideas, complaints, anything that has you stuck both in life and writing, down on paper and out of the way.  The concept is simple.  You get up in the morning, you grab a notebook and pen, and you write without picking up your pen until you have filled three pages.  Stream of consciousness writing would be another term for this. 

This is not just an exercise to do once in a while, every other day or just on week days.  This is literally an every single day process that you are supposed to go through, no ifs ands or buts.

It makes sense that I would be reading a blog called Procrastinating Writers because I told myself I would start writing my Morning Pages today.....but I didn't.  Truth be told I just plain forgot, which I realize doesn't necessarily serve as the greatest excuse.  But tomorrow morning I am completely committed to knocking out those three pages.  I am also hoping that this little experiment becomes an effortless morning ritual for me and not just a one time experiment.  But I do have my reservations. 

For some reason I have never been that good at stream of consciousness writing and I think it's because I am such a perfectionist.  I am always wanting to insert punctuation, or make complete sentences, or make things flow in an easy to read manner.  This of course interferes with the whole "write without stopping" rule, and then I have to refocus myself to start writing in a steady stream again.  The thing is, this type of writing should not be hard.  You can write anything, even if it's just the same word over and over again.  The main point is to keep writing.  I'm hoping that this exercise will help to unlock some creativity, give me some ideas for future blog posts, and yes, help me to get in the flow of writing without constantly stopping to reread, edit, or get distracted. 

Day 1 of Morning Pages officially kicks off tomorrow and I am very excited to see what lies ahead! 

On gambling

I recently returned from a trip to Reno with the hubby and his business partners.  It felt so amazing to get away, even for just a few days.  And even though my fantasy of sitting poolside all day long while sipping fruity drinks didn't quite come into fruition (the weather was not very warm), a good time was still had by all (and there were still many fruity drinks consumed). 

Reno is known as the biggest little city in the world, and while not quite as popular as Las Vegas, it is still something of a gambling destination.  Casinos rule the town, slot machines rule the airport, and just about everywhere you turn there is another opportunity for you to throw money away on something.  I was not naive enough to believe that we would go on this trip and not end up losing some money to the casinos.  Considering we had an $11 per day casino fee tacked on to our bill at checkout, we were losing money whether we wanted to or not.  This was not the first time I had been to a casino, but it was the first time I had been to one with the actual intention of gambling.  

Now see, even that isn't entirely true.  I am not a fan of gambling, and while I don't hold anything against people who do happen to enjoy it, it is not my cup of tea.  I have never been able to wrap my mind around the idea of willingly throwing money away for absolutely no reason.  Yes, I have heard the old adage you have to play big to win big, but how often does that really happen?  I am willing to be the odds are pretty low (no pun intended). 

So the first night there my husband and his buddies decide to play a little blackjack.  After standing behind them for a good ten minutes bored out of my mind, I decided to try my hand at the penny slots.  I figure I can handle the idea of penny wagers, plus if I sit at the machine long enough I am guaranteed a free drink.  I find a machine, sit down, and search through my wallet for a small bill to enter.  Of course all I have are $20 bills.  Okay, I tell myself.  I'll just play for awhile then cash out and use the rest on another night.  I start playing the machine and before long I'm down about $3.  Getting frustrated I decide to up the ante.  Instead of only betting one line I go up to 15 lines, then 20.  This of course costs more money, so that loss of $3 quickly turns into a loss of $6 and then $7.  Throughout I made some small gains, but then of course I had to re-wager my winnings in order to keep getting ahead.  I worked my way back up to $15 before cashing out, but over the next two days I probably lost around $20 in the penny slots.  Who knows, it probably was more.  After awhile you kind of start to lose track. 

I realize that my losings don't really stack up to the hundreds and sometimes thousands of dollars that people often lose at casinos, but in my mind it was significant.  That $20 could have bought me a new shirt, or dinner, or a new book.  Instead it's sitting in the belly of a penny slot machine, lost to me forever.  And all it took was the pressing of a button over and over again.  

I did a lot of people watching while in the different casinos we visited and realized something else.  All the commercials you see on TV for resort casinos with the young, healthy, well-dressed people are slightly off mark.  Maybe Vegas is a different story, but in all the casinos I visited I found, let's just say, an interesting mix of individuals.  In a way it was kind of depressing.  All these people sitting around at a table staring at cards, or sitting at a slot machine mindlessly pressing buttons while lights flashed and loud noises reverberated around them in all directions.  It didn't necessarily strike me as a happy place, because frankly I didn't see too many people smiling.

All in all I was somewhat fascinated by the casino culture, and spent a lot more time people watching than I did gambling.  From this trip I learned that I am definitely not a gambler, and in fact get no joy out of the process whatsoever.  But while I was sitting there at that machine pressing that wager button over and over again, I definitely fell into the gambling trance.  Every time I would lose I thought, I'll make it up on the next round.  This thought surprisingly brought me an ounce of calmness, and as the lines were spinning on each ensuing round I eagerly waited to see if this time would in fact be my lucky break.  

It's a fascinating and dangerous idea that simply by pressing a button or rolling some dice you can instantly find yourself richer by thousands of dollars.  And even if you don't gamble on a regular basis, even if you don't necessarily enjoy the process, this is still the idea, the dream that sits in the back of your mind.  It's what causes people to sit hour after hour at the poker tables and slot machines, long after they have fallen deep into the hole of debt.  

It's a strange form of hope that constantly lingers, even after your money has left you. 

         

Phobias

We are all afraid of something whether we admit to it or not.  And whether we harbor rational or irrational fears, there is a delicate line that some of us walk on a day to day basis.  This is the line between fear and phobia. 

Before delving much further, let me provide some background on the inspiration for this post.  I had been at work not even an hour this morning when I heard some very distinct buzzing coming from one of the light fixtures in our office.  For whatever reason, we always have had issues with bugs, mainly flies, getting into our office via the light fixtures.  So I look up, and to my absolute abject horror I see that it's not a fly up there making the buzzing, but a huge wasp.  Let me also preface this by saying that I have a huge, slightly irrational and completely consuming fear of bees, wasps, yellow jackets, anything that buzzes, flies, and has a stinger.  

So, here I am sitting at my desk with this giant wasp ready to dive bomb me at any moment.  The ceilings in our office are about 15 feet high so there was no way I could just swat him and put an end to my misery.  Instead I had to sit there and watch and he crawled in and around the light fixture, flew from one end of the room to another, and crawled along the wall.  There was absolutely no way I could concentrate on anything work related.  My eyes were glued to this wasp, watching his every move and ready to bolt as soon as he made a move toward me.  

The end result of this tale is that eventually the little devil's spawn finally landed on a window (mine, of course), and I smashed him with my shoe.  This is not the first time I have had to defend myself against these evil, evil creatures and it likely won't be the last.  What worries me is that the more and more I am pitted against them, the stronger my fear of them becomes.  Don't they usually say exposure to the things that scare you help you to cure, or at least lessen the fear? 

I decided to do some minor non-scholarly research to see if my fear of flying, stinging creatures might actually be a phobia.  Some of the symptoms for phobias include:  the need to escape, sweating, heart palpitations, nausea or abdominal discomfort, shortness of breath, feeling lightheaded, and so on, and so on.  While examining the symptoms on the list was interesting, it really didn't bring me any closer to discovering the truth.  Everything listed was rather generic, not too specific, and overall could be applied to a number of situations.  However, I examined some of the differences between everyday anxieties and phobias and found that to be a bit more helpful.  I'll highlight one example. 

Everyday anxiety:  Feeling queasy while climbing a tall ladder. 
Phobia:  Not attending your friend's wedding because it's on the 25th floor of a hotel. 

Okay, the difference between the two is duly noted.  People with phobias will go out of their way to avoid situations involving the person/place/thing they are afraid of, and if they are forced to endure the stimulus they do so with great distress.  Given the example above, it is highly unlikely that I have a full blown phobia, but I would say on the everyday anxiety scale I am scoring pretty much off the charts.  After I smashed that evil wasp with my shoe, my hand was trembling so bad I couldn't hardly tie my shoelace.  My stomach is still in knots almost three hours later, and any little sound from the light fixtures makes me jerk my head up to see what kind of killer insect is waiting to descend on me next.  

I am definitely walking the fine line between fear and phobia.  Of course, knowing this does not make my irrational fear any easier to deal with.  So as the summer months progress and as the temperatures increase, I have a feeling I will be forced to ward off these inhuman terrorists time and time again.  Unless conditions improve, I might just start working from home.      

Sisters, big and little

I am a big sister.  I have been a big sister since I was four years old, and I will be a big sister for the rest of my life.  I remember when my baby sister was brought home from the hospital and I sat on the sofa in our living room while she was gently placed in my arms.  I was cautious, careful, and gentle with this little creature, treating this bundle of a baby like she was made out of porcelain.

Being a big sister was not always easy or fun.  I'm sure the same can be said of being a little sister.  During sleepovers with my friends there was always a little voice, a little girl, who wanted to play outside with us, play checkers with us, and watch movies with us.  At times I thought of her presence as annoying, but when it was just the two of us, just me and my little sister, I was always so grateful for a constant companion to ride bikes, to go swimming, or to play catch in the backyard.

Being a big sister made me a natural protector.  I wanted so badly to protect my younger sister from thoughtless taunts and mean words, from failure and from tears.  And yet, there were times as a big sister when I thoughtlessly caused pain during the adolescent fights that all siblings go through.  

Being a big sister meant I observed and watched.  I watched as the little baby who I once held so carefully in my arms grew up.  I observed as she excelled at everything from softball, to piano, to showing animals at the county fair.  I watched her transform from a quiet little girl into a strikingly mature young woman.  The years of our young lives passed with by with countless laughs and a million hugs, recorded forever in photographs and remembered always by the two of us.  

When my sister and I finally lived in the same town again, I never knew our relationship would continue to grow, both as friends and as work colleagues.  I didn't realize how much I would grow to depend on her, to value her input and seek her advice.  Having her so close these past few years, it was easy to imagine that nothing had to change. 

When my sister decided to move away, to seek her professional destiny on the other side of the state, we started to make plans for new adventures.  Yet even through all the job applications, resume drafts and interviews, I never completely believed she was really going to leave.  Even as the months on the calendar fell away, even as the weeks began to dwindle, even as the days became fewer and fewer, I thought maybe, just maybe, nothing really has to change.

When I became a big sister, I never knew I would treasure it so much.  When I saw my sister's face for the first time, I never knew she would one day become the best friend I have ever had.  As we grew up together in a house nestled between golden wheat fields, I never knew that one day I would look up to her, would admire her for so many qualities I feel are lacking in myself. 

As I watch my little sister prepare to start a new chapter, to open a door to new adventures, I feel a pang of sadness and wonder if we will ever be this close again, both geographically and emotionally.  I wonder also what the future holds....both for her and for myself.

Being a big sister is not always easy, and it's not always fun.  Sometimes there are fights, annoyances, and sibling unrest.  But sometimes there are late night talks and memorable road trips, inside jokes, and a confidant who will always keep your secrets.  Being a big sister means having a partner in crime, someone who will finish your sentences and who will always watch Lifetime movies with you.  Being a big sister means there will always be another person who knows how your heart is hurting when you both lose someone you love.   

Being a big sister has meant a lot of things to me over the years.  And now, as my little sister fills her moving boxes and makes plans for a new life in a new city, it means I have to see beyond my own sadness, my own insecurities, and offer her nothing but well wishes and unwavering support.

Sometimes, being a big sister means you have no choice but to say goodbye.       

Classic Nickelodeon

I don’t watch a lot of children’s television anymore, for obvious reasons.  I’m 26, I don’t have kids, and I have a husband which means I watch (sometimes against my will) a fair amount of sports programming.  ESPN even has its own special button on our remote.  All this aside, I am somewhat aware of the program choices out there for kids today and I have to say that I feel sorry for them.  I mean, I’m sure they believe what they are watching is just about the coolest thing ever, but guess what?

They are wrong. 

Travel back with me if you will to the early 90’s.  These were the years that encompassed of the bulk of my childhood and were also one of the best times in recent history to be a kid…..that is, of course, we are gauging “best times” solely on TV programming.  What made this possible you may ask?  Oh, you know, just a little network called Nickelodeon. 

I firmly believe that Nickelodeon was ahead of its time in the quality of shows it offered to the youth of America.  Compare any of the classic Nickelodeon shows to what kids see today and the differences are blatantly obvious.  In terms of quality, the 90’s has current day television beat by a long shot.  Quite the bold statement, isn't it?  The shows of classic Nickelodeon, while still at times a bit silly (they were for kids, after all), had a level of maturity to them that is missing from TV today.  Okay, maybe maturity isn’t exactly the correct word.  I mean, a lot of classic Nickelodeon’s legacy is tied up in the pouring of green slime over unsuspecting victims.  But the old Nick shows had something…..some special element that is flat out missing from the shows of today.  

Most people look back fondly on the shows of their youth.  Haven’t you ever heard your parents talk fondly about the old shows they used to watch, don’t we ourselves hold a special place in our hearts for what we used to watch growing up?  I don’t think this happens very often as we get older, but during those carefree childhood years the TV shows we become involved in will make a lasting impression on us, will stay with us into adulthood, and essentially become a part of our own personal histories.  

An example.  As I’ve stated many times before I am a confirmed horror junkie.  I love to be scared, I love a good mystery, and for me it doesn’t get any better than curling up on the couch, turning off the lights, and indulging in a scary movie.  I can’t pinpoint exactly when my fascination with the macabre occurred, but I do know that as a kid Nickelodeon gave me a show that without a doubt further increased my love of the dark side.  “Are You Afraid of the Dark?” was, in my humble opinion, a pure genius of a show.  A group of kids knows as the Midnight Society gather around a campfire and do their best to scare each other silly with ghost stories.  As the person is telling the story, it is subsequently being acted out for the viewer.  The intro to the show was delightfully creepy, which you can view here.  And the stories themselves are utterly fantastic.  Watching these same episodes as an adult I still find myself getting freaked out.  I don’t think there has ever been another show on TV like “Are You Afraid of the Dark?” that can match the caliber of the original.  I encourage all of you to go to You Tube right now and watch an episode.  Just keep in mind that the show is designed for kids so the acting caliber isn’t going to be superb, but the stories themselves are what really make this show work.  Isn’t it funny how it always comes back to the story?

While I won’t go into too much detail on some of my other favorites, including but not limited to “Clarissa Explains it All” (I so wanted to be her), “Salute Your Shorts”, “Hey Dude”, “Welcome Freshmen”, “The Adventures of Pete & Pete”, “Ren & Stimpy".....we could be here all day. 

We always like to think that our generation got it right.  Clothing, cars, TV, you name it and we will claim at some point in our lives to have done it better than anyone else.  But in the case of classic childrens television, the early 90's have it in the bag.  Nickelodeon has always been a fantastic network for kids, but during the golden age of programming referenced above it's hard to imagine how they could have done any better.  I still look back on these shows fondly, and watching old episodes is like a wonderful little trip through time.  And I'll say it again, I feel sorry for kids today because they are really missing out.

The classics of anything will never die, and I sincerely hope that these shows are soon revived in reruns or made more accessible on DVD.  Given the quality of most television shows today, I for one would rather spend my time watching 90's Nickelodeon.  And yes, I realize that statement officially brings me one step closer to sounding "old."