katiebell318

Lush-Us Lessons: The Coldest Village on Earth

Today all of us here at Tipsy Typer are thrilled to announce the return of an old segment that accidentally slipped through the cracks a few months ago. And by ‘all of us’ I mean me and my cat, who is currently snoring on my lap- but don’t let that fool you, Oreo is still very excited. That’s right the segment is coming back with a vengeance and a new name: Lush-Us Lessons. Get it? Lush-Us, since this is Tipsy Typer, it seemed fitting to me. Anyway, the name is different, but the intent is the same. Once a week I will be picking a random topic and start dropping knowledge like The Walking Dead drops cast members (RIP my friends, you will be missed). Perhaps you will find some inspiration in these pages, or, at the very least, you will be entertained for a little while.

I am one of those annoying creatures that loves when it’s cold, but hates actually being cold. Which means when the winter weather hits I am bundled up like the little boy in ‘A Christmas Story’- I’ll put my arms down when I get to work, thank you very much.

But there is a village out there where no amount of bundling will keep that chill from seeping into your bones, that’s right, even Elsa herself wouldn’t be able to keep up with this place. Let me introduce you to Oymyakon, a little village located in a valley of northeastern Russia, not far from the Arctic Circle along the Indigirka River. It is a remote village, the nearest town is a 3-day drive away. It’s name is a bit misleading- ‘Omyakon’ actually means ‘non-freezing water,’ and was taken due to the close proximity of a hot spring. But the area is also known as the ‘Pole of the Cold,’ it is the coldest permanently inhabited settlement in the entire world. In January this little ice haven averages at -50º Celsius (-58º F for those of you who were taught the same system as I was). Although they did set a new record in February of 2013 by dropping all the way down to -71º C ( this translates to an astonishing -95.8º F, according to google, because I don’t really remember how to convert temperatures on my own). To put that number into perspective, jet fuel will free at -40º C. And sadly, if you were planning on warming yourself up with a dash of some 80 proof vodka, it would have turned into a vod-cycle at a lowly -26.95º C. And don’t think about going streaking after visiting what has been called ‘the loneliest bar in the world’ because you wont survive long enough to say ‘maybe this was a bad idea.’ Although you might make a lovely ice statue.

If you have ever had a desire to go cold-turkey (no pun intended) to get off the grid- this is the place that you need to go. Most modern conveniences that we take for granted wont even work in an environment this cold. Locals have to either keep their cars parked in heated garages (unlikely, given the economic conditions), or keep them running because leaving them off for even a short period of time could result in some serious mechanic bills coming out of your pocket, usually due to frozen grease or fuel tanks, and any unused pipes will freeze within 5 hours.

Want to take some selfies as you walk through town on your Frozen adventure? Unfortunately, there will be a good possibility that your phone will be dead, as they cannot function in those temperatures. Batteries are not designed to work under such extreme conditions and will lose their charge at an astounding rate. To the people who live there full time- this really isn’t that big of a deal because they are in such a remote area that they aren’t eligible for cell service anyways. Most electronics, especially any that run off of batteries, will have to fight for their life out here. Spoiler: they’ll lose. Even the ink in your pen isn’t safe- that has been known to freeze solid. And, if you happen to require glasses like I do- you will be warned against wearing them because they will actually freeze to your face in this climate. Yes, you heard me right, though it bears repeating: your glasses will freeze to your face. Personally, I am a bit terrified to ask what would happen if you opted for contact lenses.

Another problem faced by these inhabitants: burying their dead. This already difficult time becomes compounded, as it can take up to three days to dig the grave. Bonfires must be lit for several hours and then the hot coals are pushed to the side so that the people can begin to dig while it is relatively soft. They are usually only able to make it down a few inches before the process has to be started again. This is repeated over and over until the hole is large enough to accommodate a coffin (or your frozen streaker friend).

Most modern conveniences are rare, and in many homes, you will still see people trekking to an outhouse to relieve themselves. The solitary school itself didn’t even possess an indoor toilet until 2008. Homes and buildings are still heated with coal and wood burning. If power ceases, the town will shut down in about five hours and pipes will begin to freeze and crack. The people survive primarily on reindeer and horse meat because- well, good luck getting anything to grow. The length of the days will vary from a scant 3 hours in December, but will stretch to 21 hours in the summer. While winters are, by all accounts, awful, summers can get a bit warmer, even attracting tourists to the surrounding forest. Their record ‘heat wave’ once brought them all the way up to 65.7º F, although the land itself technically remains permanently frozen year round.

There is a current population of about 500 people, with one solitary store to supply all of their needs and one school to teach their children. Now, as a comfort-seeker myself, I can’t help but wonder what brought these people out there to this land that is believed to belong to ‘Stalin’s Death Ring,’ named such because it was the region where political exiles were sent. Back in the 1920’s and 30’s, this little area was a stop-over for reindeer herders who would water their flocks from the thermal springs the village is now named after. At some point, the Soviet government was making an effort to settle their nomadic populations. They believed that the people of this area were difficult to control and were culturally and technologically backwards. So they came up with a quick fix, they allowed the people to stay and made the site a permanent settlement. To this day the residents still make a living with reindeer breeding, hunting and ice fishing.

Tourists make their way to the village with a deep desire to experience this record setting environment for themselves. There are no hotels, but you will find several families who are willing to house guests, in fact, they traditionally love to have visitors. If you wish, you can be invited to partake in many of their daily activities, which include reindeer hunting, ice-fishing, and there is even a possibility of going to the hot spring (please sign me up for that one, I will never leave). The mayor himself will give any guest a certificate to celebrate their visit to the ‘Pole of the Cold.’

While the prospect sounds intimidating (like I said, I am a complete and total baby in the cold), the experience sounds like a once in a lifetime adventure. And while I don’t know if I will ever be brave enough to don piles of fur (which is the only way to stay warm- not strictly a fashion choice) to brave the outdoors and discover this beautifully hidden gem, I can’t help but find myself amazed that we live in a world where this is possible. And I can’t help but be thankful that I live in a place where I can indulge myself in the creature comforts that I so often take for granted.

I Will Never be ‘Normal’ (and how I inadvertently discovered ice cream tacos)

I have always had an idea in my head of the type of woman that I wanted to become. I pushed aside all of my personal phobias and eccentricities; I don’t know if I thought I would grow out of them, or if I believed that I could simply will them into nonexistence. If I stopped acknowledging my flaws, perhaps they would just disappear. I knew that the person I was didn’t align with the bold woman that I envisioned to grow into. I was going to be that shooting star; a bright, intelligent woman with style to boot. I was going to be clever, I wouldn’t be afraid to dance in a crowded room, I would jump at any and all opportunities. I would have a thousand stories for the hundreds of off-the-wall experiences I had. I was going to be fun, sparkly and spontaneous. Impromptu midnight drive to the coast so we can watch the sunrise? Bring it on. Skinny dipping at the lake- why the hell not. Learning a new dance in a room full of stranger? I thought you’d never ask.

I didn’t expect to be the way that I am, wrapped up in my own little shell like a turtle. I didn’t anticipate that my tongue would still tie at the most inconvenient moments, forcing my face to turn ketchup red as I scurried away to internally berate myself. I didn’t think that twenty-seven year-old me would still be intimately familiar with the flash of panic that raced through my nervous system at the mere prospect of being left alone in the room with another person to partake in that dreaded act known as small talk. I didn’t think my hands would still get clammy and my voice would get quiet when I made a comment and didn’t get immediate responses. I didn’t think that adult Katie would still be fighting the same demons that I raged against ten years ago. No, I did not think that these would be daily struggles in my life.

I am a master in the arts of self-sabotage. I am a creature deeply in love with her comforts. Tonight I knew exactly what my plans were going to be when I got home from work. I was just settling into the rare treat of a hot bubble bath coupled with a good book I’ve waited all day to read. And then a wrench came flying, smashing right through my meticulously well-laid plans. My fiancé knocked on the door and let me know that his friend reached out and invited us to meet them at a cool foodie place over in Portland. And we would have to leave right away. You see, his best friend got engaged last weekend, and today his fiancé got a promotion at work- they wanted to celebrate, and they wanted to share that moment with us. I am ashamed to admit that I actually hesitated. One part of me was bouncing up and down screaming, ‘yes, it’s Friday night, let’s go do this! Where are my boots?’

But then there is the other voice. It’s a quiet but persistent little creature. It twists my stomach in knots as it stand awkwardly in the corner, tugging on my sleeve and whispering to me that it’s not a good idea- I’ll just say something stupid, there will be those awful moments of complete silence and wouldn’t it be so much better to just ignore the entire world while I hide with my bubbles and book? This is the voice that takes my self-esteem, crumples it up into a little ball like it’s nothing ore than a piece of tarnished notebook paper, tosses it on the ground and then drives a Zamboni overtop of it. Twice. And then takes a match and lights it on fire for good measure- all with an apologetic little frown. If you’ve ever seen the movie ‘Inside Out,’ I like to picture Sadness- turning everything she touches blue. That’s what my little voice is like, she is the unofficial face for all of my anxieties.

The rational part of me understands that my fears are generally unfounded, but emotions can easily overpower any and all rational thought. It is a battle that I am not always well equipped to fight. I had hoped that if I started pushing myself out of my comfort zone, that the fear would stop and I could learn how to function like a relatively well-adjusted adult. But alas, that is not how this war is won. It must be fought one battle at a time. I have to learn to push myself out that door no matter how many times that little voice inside tried to throw herself on the ground kicking and screaming at me to turn around and go put my pajamas back on like a good little girl.

And yet tonight, I took a deep breath and said okay. Because I knew it was the right thing to do, I knew that I would have fun once I got out of my own head, and I knew that I would regret it if I didn’t. You see, I have one fear that is actually bigger than my fear of all forms of social interaction- and that would be the fear of watching my anxieties slowly erode all of the relationships that mean anything to me. Because sadly, that has happened in the past. This is a tragic tale I am all too familiar with, a lesson I have learned too late- one that I do not wish to breathe fresh life into.

So I put on my cute jacket and my new necklace. And I started typing this post in the car as my fiancé loudly sang his new favorite song ‘The Death of a Bachelor’ as we drove to Portland. And you knew what happened? We had a great time. We hung out, we talked, we laughed, we ate some awesome food (including an ice cream taco- what? Yes, you heard me right- a waffle cone ‘taco shell’ with ice cream inside, drizzled with magic shell chocolate sauce to keep the whole mess contained). Tonight we did what normal people do. And it felt fantastic. Because I forced myself to get out of my own way. Because I chose to control my anxiety instead of letting it dictate my life for me. And that little voice inside? She was too busy happily munching ice cream to poke at me.

Tonight I won a small battle in a war that I have to fight every single day. And you know what? I’m proud of myself. Because for one night I did what everyone else does, and I enjoyed myself. Growing up I always had an idea of the type of woman that I wanted to be. But it wasn’t realistic. I am not that perky picture-perfect spontaneous woman. I like to have at least a semblance of control over the situations that I put myself. But that doesn’t mean that I have to hide in my house and avoid the world. It just means that I have to try a little bit harder to get myself out that door. It means that I have to force a smile until I start to feel a real one forming. It means that I have to laugh and joke until I feel the tension ease from my shoulders, until the sickening knots in my stomach begin to untangle. It means that I have to be stronger than I ever imagined, it means that I have to fight. And you know what? I am so proud of the woman that I have become. I am not the woman that I had always envisioned, but I am stronger than she ever could have been. I am awkward and quirky, I am nerdy and passionate, I dance even though I have no rhythm. But I force myself to step out of my comfort zone to truly live my life every single day. So yes, I am proud of the neurotic mess that I am. I am unapologetically me- and that is the best battle I have ever won.

Work Isn’t Everything

We live in a society where we are expected to do it all, to have it all, to be fueled by some mysteriously ever-burning fire that will propel us to new heights. We are told that if we do not hit the ground running then we are lazy. We are told that working over 40 hours a week is the only way to achieve those illusive dreams. We watch people who have their fingers in so many pies that they don’t even know what flavors they have stuck under their fingernails. We are used to pushing, to fighting, believing with the very fiber of our being that if we work hard enough, we will be able to achieve anything. This advice, while not wrong, can be somewhat misleading. We work hard hoping that someday we will play hard. We are so used to clawing our way to the top that we forget to look around.

There is a season for everything, we are told, and yet we are constantly attempting to reap what we have hurriedly sowed. I am no different from the rest of my generation. I work my ass off in the hopes that it will help me build my name, cement my reputation and get me where I have always dreamed of going. And then something happened that forced me to throw a flag on the field. There is a season for everything, and sometimes you have to remember your priorities. You have to pay attention to where you have run. You have to stop and take a breath.

On a Thursday night as I drove home I could hear my phone buzzing periodically as I listened to my audiobook. When I finally pulled into my driveway I turned off my car and looked down, seeing my siblings and mom’s names. I expected a group chat about something- perhaps about my brother’s wedding that was a couple of days away, or a reminder for a family dinner. Swiping it open, I was soon proven gravely wrong. My mom was on her way to the Emergency room, per the insistent instruction of her doctor. We didn’t know what was wrong, we didn’t know how serious it could be, we just knew she was scared and required immediate help.

We went to the hospital and waited with other family members in a surprisingly busy waiting room. We waited for some indication of what was happening, we waited for some word that would give us a direction. We waited and we waited. I eventually texted a few of my friends/co-workers, needing someone to talk to, someone to send good vibes our way. Immediately a close co-worker sent me a private message letting me know that if I needed to take the next day off, he would make arrangements to cover my work- something that I know is damn near impossible given the fact that we have been short staffed for far too long and Fridays are the busiest days of the week. Right off the bat I told him that I would be there, even if I didn’t get any sleep. It wasn’t until after I sent it that I stopped and looked at the words that I had typed. When had that become me? When did I become the girl who would drop family to go to work? When did I become the one that put everything else on hold? At what point in my life did I turn into the girl who would leave her mother in the emergency room to go spend over eight hours in an office?

In emergencies I am always the utilitarian one. I fall apart in private, I don’t like crying in front of people and I am not cut from the type of cloth that lends me to panicking easily. At hospitals I am usually the one with positive things to say who is taking coffee orders and reminding people to eat a sandwich, even if they don’t feel hungry. I am the one running through the list of items that the hurt person may need- do they have fresh socks? Will they need a pair of tennis shoes when they get released? Has everyone been notified? I find tasks for myself to do because I can’t stand just sitting there. I would like to think that my initial reaction to go to work during this crisis was something that fell into this category- this desire to keep myself busy. But I don’t know.

It’s true that I have the kind of job now where dependability is not an option- its not a box you can check one day and not the next. Calling in sick because I just don’t feel like facing a Tuesday is not an option, hell calling in sick because I am actually sick is treading on some thin ice. I am the coverage. I am the one that you call when you decide that you can’t face Tuesday. I am the one that has to be dependable when others are not. But that is not everything.

I came to the sudden realization that I don’t want to be that person- I have never been that person. I am the one who will drop anything for anyone. I have taken time away to get my dad to the doctor, I am the one that you call when you need help- I’m that kind of dependable. I don’t want to be the one that is so focused on climbing a ladder that I miss out on time with those that enrich my daily life.

Perspective is everything. There is a time to push and to fight, and there is a time to take a step back and recognize the things that make your light shine. I am nothing without the people in my life. My job will continue on whether I am there or not. I am replaceable. They survived without me before, and they could easily do it again. But I only have one mom, and as terrifying as the thought is, we all only have so much time we are allotted to spend with those that we love. My life needs to reflect my views and my morals. My job is not my life, my family is. And while I will always go above and beyond with my work, there are lines that should not be crossed. Sometimes it takes a terrifying moment to remember that.

Luckily for me, she is okay. There will be more tests, there will be more changes, but she will be okay. And I will be thankful knowing that I have more time to spend with those that I love, and a reminder that my job is not the end-all-be-all of my life. I can be a good employee and a good daughter. I can be there for those that need me when it is important. I can work my ass off day in and day out, I can leave my day job and come home to type away for my passion a couple of hours. But its important to remember the balance. It’s important to keep your heart open for those that need you, for those that you need.

Small Words Leave a Big Mark

People come into our lives and leave a lasting impression, sometimes with nothing more than their words. When I was a little girl I had a few teachers who innately recognized my love for story telling. I don’t think anything I wrote was particularly noteworthy, but they nurtured that love nonetheless, perhaps seeing the passion it kindled in my soul- they taught me how to ignite it and set myself on fire. For as long as I can remember, I wanted to be a writer, there was never any question about it. As I grew up, this driving love I carried within me became something that I closely guarded.

Sometimes my writing feels like a secret, a deep chasm I hold within my heart that only those deemed truly trustworthy will ever bear witness to. Most people in my life don’t know much about my writing, in fact, there are only two that know of the existence of this blog. This is something that I have always regretted; I don’t know why I have never been able to yell it from the rooftops like other people that I know, instead I keep my words hidden away like sacred objects. Perhaps sometimes it just feels too personal for a girl who has mastered the art of masks and social cues. Or perhaps it’s because at the end of the day, I can’t help but wonder if I’m actually any good. I have a fear that the words of my soul don’t resonate as poignantly as I had hoped. At the end of the day, I am still that terrified little girl standing on the edge of the playground hoping she wont be rejected.

And yet, I can boldly write out my ramblings and post them for all the strangers of the world to see. It’s a funny little dichotomy I have here.You see, on this little patch of internet, I can be unapologetically myself. And yet, that doesn’t keep the question at bay: am I really any good at this? I think it’s only human nature to desire validation, and it seems that the older we get, the harder that can be to find. As adults, we generally aren’t in the habit of handing out gold stars to one another. And yet, there are those rare few who can change your whole worldview with just a few simple words.

Tonight, I want to take the time to thank someone who doesn’t realize what an impact they have had on me or my work. She is an unbelievably supportive woman who reminded me why I keep coming back and stringing these silly words together at a time when I was questioning my value as a writer. The funny thing is- I haven’t even actually met her. We know one another through a Facebook writing group that we created during Camp Nano this past year.

All it took were a few kind words to give me the validation that I needed to keep pushing through, to keep improving. Now, I know that I wont ever stop writing, I don’t think I’m capable of giving up such a large part of who I am. My writing is my identity, it is my soul in physical form. It is my patronus, of sorts; it is every good and every bad thing that has ever happened to me. Writing is in my blood, it’s in my soul. But I was beginning to question whether my words were good enough to be sharing with the world, or if I should hide them away. I am, and always will be, a writer. But I did not trust in my identity as a possible author. I wasn’t sure anymore if my prose measured up to be tossed out here for anyone to stumble upon, perhaps they were safer hidden in my notebooks. She gave me the confidence that I so desperately needed. And she still does.

It is crucially important that, when we see something that inspires us, that makes us think, that makes us smile- we should let that person know. It just might make all the difference in the world to them, it might give them the motivation that they need to continue on and chase those dreams; to keep writing, to continue tossing their words out into the void of the internet in hopes that they will make it to someone who will understand them on a deeply fundamental level. As creators, we need to remember the value of nurturing those embers of passion in another. Because silence can be as damning as any negativity. It is human nature to assume the worst, and without someone reminding you that your work is valuable, it is so easy to think that no one cares, that you are falling on deaf ears, entertaining an empty room. It’s easy to let those demons of self-doubt crowd into your mind and convince you that perhaps you really don’t have what it takes. So be someone’s beacon today, nurture the passion, feed that flame. After all, we are all in this together.

So Cindy, this one is for you- don’t ever stop being the bright shining star I look forward to talking to, even if it’s just on a Facebook message board. And thank you, for saying the words that I didn’t realize I was desperately in need of hearing. On those days when I feel like I don’t have it in me, your kind words help propel me forward. Thank you for making me feel a little bit less alone on this journey. It has made all the difference in the world. You are a truly inspiring person, and for that, I can’t thank you enough.

Ready for Another Adventure: Nano, Day 1

I adore the beginnings of an adventure, whether it be the moment that plane takes off and you get that odd jolt in your stomach, or that first step when you are ready to jump from a diving board, or even the first few pages of a crisp new book providing you with promises of what will await your future. Oh yes, my friends, much like the first few months of a new relationship, there are the nervous jitters, the steady stream of pleasant surprises and new experiences that these endeavors will unveil to you. I love beginnings. There is nothing like the enthusiasm of a fresh start, a promise unmarred by past experiences, a tale whose ending is still deeply shrouded in mystery. As much as I love the comfort of the known, there is nothing as invigorating as the first step of a new adventure. It makes you feel alive.

Today was yet another beginning for me, one that I have been selfishly anticipating for the past year. My favorite writing challenge has commenced, Nanowrimo is back! I raise my mug of tea and send a ‘cheers’ out to all of my fellow participants; may we be the Sam to one another’s Frodo, the Sherlock to our Watsons, the Tock to each other’s Milo (okay, that was a Phantom Tollbooth reference that I suspect only a few of you may have understood). This is an adventure that we may walk together, though the battles are fought individually. It is the people, the support of those who follow this trail with us that make Nano what it truly is. I can take any month of the year and pledge to write 50,000 words, but it is the community that keeps me going this month, that gets me excited enough to do a midnight happy dance. So to all of you- thank you for joining, you make this whole adventure what it is. I hope this month goes as beautifully as you planned, and if any wrenches find their way into your work, well, I hope they lead you down some daring paths that will make your words all the richer for their struggle.

The beginning is always the hardest, we work so painstakingly at what we do that taking the first step can be daunting, and yet, much like riding a bike, it is that first push you need to get the wheels going that will be the most difficult. It’s a lot of pressure, trying to figure out the best way to introduce the ideas you’ve been carrying inside, percolating in your mind- how ever will you be able to do it justice with only a few sentences at your disposal to hook the unsuspecting reader? And yet, here we are anyway, already a day in and slowly finding our way through the challenges that we must face head on.

I was fortunate this year and managed to get a few days off from work, which gave me the rare opportunity to stay up late and jump straight into a midnight start. I am ashamed to admit that I almost didn’t make it, 11:00 became a bit touch and go for me thanks to a few good movies and yummy food that left me far too relaxed and content. But alas, I rallied, and when the clock struck 12, my fingers began to dance across the keyboard. Oh how I missed it! I’ve been working on editing projects for the past two months, with varying levels of success (okay, so October was a bit of a struggle and I really didn’t get much done on the editing front). I didn’t realize how much I had missed simply writing. There is a unrestrained fervor that comes with a first draft, a feverish excitement when you are simply collecting the sand to build castles with later. You get to keep your focus trained on the idea itself, not the presentation or the packaging that it comes in. I find this draft to be the most liberating, when you are physically unspooling the story from your soul so that you can create something beautiful. It is liberating, and damn, did I miss it. I feel whole again, as strange as that may sound. Even typing away on a silly piece of fiction makes me feel more authentic than I have in months. So I kept typing, stringing one word after another until my eyes couldn’t look at the screen anymore without crossing. And when I woke up, I went back and did it again.

I am so thrilled with how my project is going this time around. Let me start off by saying that this is not a fresh idea I am working on, so I have a bit of an unfair advantage in that department. This is a project I began last Camp, and it didn’t go as well as I had hoped. I decided to keep my characters and some very basic plot points, but everything was scrapped. I started fresh with the added benefit of knowing my characters a bit more intimately than someone working on a pristine, untouched piece. I must say though, the distance that I took from the project has made all the difference in the world. I have a clearer idea of how I want everything to play out. I know the direction I want to take and I have figured out how to tease out the important details in this story. I finally pushed through the wall that kept knocking me back down last time around. I came back ready to fight, and so far, I think I’m winning.

I must admit, today wasn’t completely issue free. You see, I wanted to sit down for the whole day and see what I could accomplish without distraction. Silly me forgot all about my writing time’s arch nemesis, which comes in the form of a bat-eared four-legged K-9 companion. Link, my German Shepherd, is a sweetheart, truly. He is my cuddle bug when I am sick, my partner in crime when I am in search of a midnight snack, the guard who keeps the cat out of the closet when I’m folding laundry, and my safety net when I’m home alone and can think of nothing except those scary movies I’ve watched. He is my caped crusader, my ride or die. He is also my biggest distraction in the best possible way. Today was no exception. You see, he would much rather be out in the world creature a real life adventure instead of laying at me feet as I pen an imagined one. He is my constant reminder that life must occasionally be lived outside of my head. Once he has decided that it’s break time, he starts sounding off like a broken alarm clock. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard a German Shepherd once they start feeling ‘chatty,’ but barking is no longer in their vocabulary. They start yipping like Dino from the Flintstones. On repeat. Over and over and over. Until they have broken you and you give in to all of their demands. I’m telling you, if he wanted to, this dog could take over the world. Luckily, I believe he would be a benevolent ruler, so we have that in our favor.

As it turns out, the walk that he forced me to take wound up being exactly what I needed to refresh and reenergize myself. Who knew that my four-legged friend knew more about what I needed that I did? not only that, it was a beautiful day outside. When we got back he was ready for a nap and I was able to cruise through another few thousand words unhindered.

Day one will be counted as a success, and I am going to ride this wave as long as it lasts, because I know when the tables turn, they will turn hard. And I really want to hit 100k this year.

Current stats:

Word count: 11,075

Out of: 100,000, which puts me at: 11% complete.

Words remaining: 88,925 (in 29 days)

Current mood on project: Excited and rolling with it while it lasts

Happy Halloween! (and may the odds be ever in your favor, Nanoers)

Happy Halloween to all of my ghosts, ghouls and goblins out there this lovely day! It’s hard to believe that October is coming to a close, and in a mere few hours the hustle and bustle of Nano (and the upcoming holiday season) will be settling in.

I will be honest, I did not accomplish everything that I set out to do in October. My editing projects floundered a bit, but I did get some good ideas ready to go for my Nano project, and got some fresh content for this humble little blog sorted out. All in all, I would rate it as a successful month. After all, I did get to run through downtown Portland dressed up as a banana while being chased by Gorillas.

And I got to spend a little bit of time visiting one of my favorite spooky spots, Halloweentown:

Not to mention trying on a few costumes at Target, and carving pumpkins with the family. I didn’t hit all of the holiday things that I wanted to do this year, but let’s be honest- there isn’t enough time in the month to do everything on my list.

I had a blast and went out into the world instead of spending so much time lost in my own thoughts. Sure, I could have managed to get a bit more work done, but every now and then we need to stop and remember that life is about more that a word count. And sometimes the best inspirations you will encounter will be out there in the world, not at home staring at a screen.

Now we are quickly hurdling towards November. I already went over my goals for the month yesterday, so I wont bore you by repeating myself. But I cannot believe that Nano will be here in a matter of hours! I feel like a little kid at Christmas, only instead of getting presents, I’ve been invited to work a season in Santa’s workshop- it’s a lot of hard work, but its also a dream no self-respecting child would pass up.

I planned ahead this year and even managed to snag a few days off from work so that tonight I get to indulge myself and stay up late for the midnight start! Woohoo! I think I’ve only managed to do that once or twice in all of the events that I have participated in.

So tonight, I will be dressing up the dog and taking him for our nightly walk. I will come home and eat pizza while I watch Hocus Pocus. I will glance at the clock every five minutes or so to see how close I am to midnight. And when that clock strikes, poof- I will turn into a moonlight writer, chasing my dreams through the flitting words on the page.

Good luck, my dear friends, have a safe and happy Halloween. And when you get a chance to sit down and start writing, my wish for you is that the words flow smoothly, the ideas never wane, and the characters dance through your dreams with a lively enthusiasm. This is what we do, this is why we can’t stop. We spill our souls onto the page and hope someone will read their own when they see the words. May the odds be ever in you favor.

Nano is Coming! November Goals Unveiled

Hidden amidst the costumes, the piles of candy, and the pumpkin spice coffees, dodging past Winnifred Sanderson, Michael Myers, Pennywise and Chucky- just beyond the veil of Halloween, a mystical adventure awaits the daring writer brave (or crazy) enough to wield their pen like a scabbard and charge into the unknown foray of the blank page. That is right, my dear literary lovelies, Nano is just around the corner. As in a couple of days away. The hourglass of October is nearly spent, the precious Nano prep time is coming to a close, and soon the curtains will part for November as the main attraction commences.

I will be honest with you, for all of the time I have spent organizing myself for November- I still don’t feel anywhere near being ready for the month. I don’t think I have ever starting November 1st feeling fully prepared, and perhaps that is where the adventure truly is. It’s all about walking into the challenge with the nervous anticipation clawing at you, asking whether you can make it or not. Will you take the castle, or retreat to find a dragon to help you slay your literary foes in December? We shall find out together, my friends.

As per the usual, it is time to make my writing goals for the next month. The past few months I have been working on finishing old projects- mainly in the form of editing. And while I haven’t found as much success with these projects as I had hoped, I think this is a theme that I need to carry on with throughout the year. This is a year of finishing, of tying up my loose ends so that I can move forward with confidence into whatever 2017 has in store for me. And so, my Nano project is going to be an old one that needs some new life breathed into it. I’m going to be picking up a project I started in Camp Nano this last summer. I didn’t get very far into it, and what I did manage to do needs a complete re-write. So I’m taking that old idea and creating something new. The benefits: I know a little bit about how these characters act and how to make them translate on the page. The cons: everything that I had before is essentially being scrapped, so I will be starting with a clean slate. I’m excited to get it going, to finish it. It’s an idea that I find intriguing, and I am curious how it will play out. I have my general plot figured out, but I always leave a lot of extra wiggle room when I plot so that I have the ability to adjust if the story starts steering me in a new direction halfway through.

In the spirit of the ‘out of this world’ Nano theme we have going this year, I am going to be shooting for the stars: it will be a ‘go big or go home’ Nano. This could either be an epic year, or it could spark and fizzle out before the month is up. I guess we shall see. So, on to the goals:

Naturally, my minimum word count goal is 50,000, courtesy of the Nano challenge. But this year I am going to make yet another attempt at the crazy, coveted goal of 100,000 words. I have tried to hit this mark for a couple years now, but I have not managed to make it. I usually start to slow down and come to a screeching halt at about the 75k mark- a milestone I am still incredibly proud of, but I deeply desire to hit that ever illusive goal, mainly because I have tried and failed so many times in the past.

Second: I am going to try to post every day of the month (gasp). This is yet another goal that I have striven for the past couple of months, but haven’t even come close to. I’ve been struggling lately with the blog, and I think it’s been pretty apparent. Life has been incredibly busy, and I feel like I’ve lost my voice. The best way to fight this little struggle is to embrace it. I need to nurture my daily habits until I start to see myself again in my work. I have to push through my self-imposed barriers to remember who I am as a writer. So if you see me waning on occasion, feel free to leave a comment and kick me in the booty- there is nothing more motivating than the people who are fighting right alongside me.

I am so excited and yet also incredibly nervous. I am terrified that I am taking on more than I can handle, after all, the holidays are upon us, and that has always been a busy time for my family. Then again, if I want this type of life, these are the challenges that I must give myself every single day. This is my favorite time of year, and I get to immerse myself in my favorite activity. Whether I get a gold star on my goals or not- at least I am still out here trying. That’s really all I can ask of myself.

So today- after the football game, of course (GO HAWKS!), I will finish getting myself ready for November. I will work through the Mount Everest pile of laundry I have waiting for me (it’s embarrassingly awful at this point, but I wasn’t kidding when I said life has been busy, I haven’t even had time for this simple chore). I will clean the house and figure out a few simple meal plans for the moth. Then I will be off to the store to stock up on some of my favorite snacks and drinks (tea time for the win! And perhaps a few Hershey kisses as word count rewards). I will go on the Nano website and stare longingly at the travel mug I hope to reward myself with if I hit 100k. I will go over my prep work one more time and make a few minor adjustments. Then I will take a little bit of time to relax with the book I hope to finish by tomorrow (otherwise it will be a long month before I get a chance to read the conclusion).

Tomorrow I will let myself fully enjoy the excitement of Halloween, one of my favorite holidays. I will settle in and watch Hocus Pocus and The Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown. And then when the clock strikes midnight, I will begin my daring adventure. Care to join me, my friends?

Going Bananas (while being chased by gorillas) – for charity.

Only in Portland will you find yourself dressed as a banana, running for your life across a bridge as a brigade of gorillas chases you. That was a snapshot of me at 9:30 this morning. Today was the first annual ‘Go Bananas’ fun run, supporting the ‘Free to Smile Foundation.’ The people who put it on were quick to let us know that they had never organized an event like that- but they did an amazing job! We were provided with costumes, food, drinks, coffee mugs, pens, keychains, banana flavored chap sticks, and shirts. The best part: every penny went to the foundation, which provides surgical and dental services to poor and underprivileged children throughout the world. A few local dentists participate and decided to help out a great cause in even more ways.

I haven’t been running in a long time, I will openly admit that I haven’t followed through with my fitness plans the past few months. But when you are presented with the rare opportunity to run through town dressed as a banana- this is not something that you can pass up. I was looking forward to it all week- singing the old ‘go banana’ cheers that I learned when I was knee high to a grasshopper (sorry, I love that saying and never get to use it). That being said, I was very surprised that I was actually able to run the majority of it. Granted, it was only a 5k, but that’s still a lot when the only marathon training you have participated in over the past few months involved Netflix or Hulu and bags of popcorn.

I had a blast, they made us feel so welcome. My mom went with me, and we met a few of my coworkers there. We got there early and were able to spend some time with great people- you would be surprised at how many inappropriate jokes you can come up with when you are dressed as a banana- I’ll spare you my witty puns, but rest assured- they were pure gold. Although, I must admit, it was a bit off-putting to be given a banana as a pre-race treat (and yet it did not stop me from actually eating it).

The dentists who were running the event dressed up as our gorillas and ran the entire thing with us- ‘chasing’ us along the trail in full costume as people (and the local fire department) took pictures. It felt good to be passing smiles along to unsuspecting people who were just out and about on their regular business and wandered by when a bunch of bananas were running down the sidewalk from a pack of hungry gorillas. All in all, I would have to say that today was a rather successful day. Another memory made, another race I will be sure to join next year, and a whole new level of motivation to get back out there and start running again. It felt so good to cross that finish line- and knowing that a few boxes of voodoo doughnuts were waiting for us didn’t hurt either.

3 a.m. in the Emergency Room

I didn’t expect to find myself dodging the beginnings of a political debate at 3:50am in the waiting room of the ER, but alas, that was exactly where I found myself last night (er- this morning?). Don’t worry- everyone is just fine, all will be well in time. Although I must admit, I am beginning to get a bit concerned with how much time I have spent in these waiting rooms in the past year- I am one flu away from wrapping my entire family up in bubble wrap and locking them securely in a safe until I determine that they are ready to rejoin healthy society.

You never know what to expect when you wake up each morning, what adventures will await you, what twists will turn your personal novel in a new direction? We tend not to think about such topics all that often, because we would simply drive ourselves insane with the possibilities. But five hours in the waiting room gives one time to ponder the questions of life that you typically do not ask yourself. Yesterday morning I crawled out of bed excited that it was finally Friday, and for the first time in weeks, I would be able to make it to happy hour with my friends afterwards. I pushed through a rather dull work day and then enjoyed a couple of drinks with friends at our favorite Irish pub.

After coming home I indulged in a rare treat: a hot bath with my latest book, followed by fuzzy pajamas and cozy blankets. I was just settling in to relax and do a bit of writing when my phone rang. At 10:30pm I left to go pick up my dad and take him to the Emergency Room. Ironically, I had been wanting to go out this weekend to visit with him- but this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind. I didn’t make it back home until 7am on Saturday morning. Personally, I am impressed with my ability to stay awake. You have to understand- I am not a morning person, nor am I a night owl. I’m the type of girl who rocks mid-afternoon, and occasionally falls asleep while folding laundry at 9:30 (that happened to be my Thursday night, in fact). So for me to manage to stay wide away and functioning on a high enough caliber to operate a motor vehicle- for 26 hours straight- that was an achievement. I can’t really remember the last time I pulled an all-nighter. Probably because my poor psyche has blocked it from my mind.

There is nothing more colorful than a late night at the Emergency Room. You have all walks of life. The upset family of the woman that either drove drunk and got hurt, or simply drank so much that she required hospitalization (I couldn’t quite tell, but they were all rather distraught), the older church lady and her calming husband coming in because she broke her foot. The guy who was so high he had convinced people he couldn’t stand on his own two feet- not until he was faced with the prospect of being pushed around in a wheelchair (that was when the ‘miraculous recovery’ happened). The woman close to my age who offered me a page from her adult holiday-themed color book. The political debate that reared it’s head at 3:50am and went on for the next half hour. I was quick to whip out my book and bury my nose in it to avoid that particular hurdle. No good can come of middle-of-the-night politics with strangers. Luckily it was the church lady’s husband who got involved, and he was a pleasant, calming man, who was able to take a fiery debate and get people laughing. Then there was the lady with paranoid ideations explaining how her brain worked- surprisingly interesting, actually. Yes, the emergency room is a colorful clashing of all types, different people all in distress. And yet, they were all surprisingly supportive of one another, all listening attentively and taking turns speaking. Even at 4:00 in the morning.

People never fail to surprise me. We talk so often about the sad state of the world, about politics that divide and conquer, about lines drawn in the sand, biases, discrimination, riots, war, anger, frustration. We shake our heads in dismay. And yet, most people are not that way. Most people will offer a color book page to a stranger, they’ll help a near-catatonic man get up from his seat and get in the wheelchair- no judgment on what substances he put in his body to get him to that point. They just help. They offer condolences for pain, and luck for quick recoveries. Most people are inherently good. Most people will wave a goodbye when you finally are released to go back through those double doors.

Now, perhaps my nostalgic view is partially due to the fact that I got a minimal amount of sleep after I got home- in Washington state, you do not simply sleep through one of the few sunny fall days you are granted. Today is one of those rare beauties, and dang it, I will make it to a pumpkin patch this year without being rained out. So I got up, I got dressed, I drank a cup of coffee (soon to be many more), and I’m ready to push forward through my day. Because life waits for no one. And mid-afternoon naps can be delicious things if done correctly.

So far this weekend has not been what I anticipated, and yet, life rarely hands you the cards that you are expecting to play. This weekend was not what I had planned for, and yet in a bizarre twist of fate, it was exactly what I needed. I have been surrounded lately with friction, with tense moments and frustrated people, with arguments and biting words. I needed a restoration of my faith in people. We discover our humanity in the smallest of moments, not in grand sweeping gestures. It is in a perfectly timed smile, a nod of acknowledgement in a world where we all too often feel invisible. It’s in the few dollar bills it takes for one person to buy someone they don’t know a cup of coffee or a bottle of water. It’s in the straightforward conversations between two strangers on faith, life and love. Even at 4:30 in the morning in a sterile room. It is in the understanding that other’s needs might come before your own- so you wait patiently for five hours and secretly thank your lucky stars that your condition was not so serious to warrant being whisked straight to a back room. It is in the understanding that, after all is said and done, we are in this together. We can lift one another up or watch each other fall. The world is beautiful, even in the starkest of places.

So today I will grab another cup of coffee, I will check on my dad, I will pull on my rubber boots and squish my way through the mud to find a beautiful pumpkin. I will bring it home and decorate it with the family while eating the Halloween cookies that I’ve hidden on top of the fridge. I will make more memories, I will make my mark, and I will smile at the strangers that I encounter, I will buy a cup of coffee for the person waiting patiently behind me. We are all doing the best that we can. Perhaps if we simply decided that the act of trying was, in itself, enough- then maybe we could find some peace with one another.

We do it 4thewords (a new writing challenge)

Writing is hard. There is no way around this fact; the longer you work at it, the more tedious the tasks become. Writing is my passion, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t fall into the same ruts as everyone else. When you begin taking your work more seriously your investments become compounded and the flittering fingers on keyboards occasionally morph into plodding digits squeezing words from a stone. It is easy to fall into a familiar pattern- sometimes this is good, sometimes this is comforting, and sometimes the rut grows so deep that you begin to feel trapped by the very thing that you adore.

As I said, writing is hard. When the world is throwing as many distractions as it can at you, some days it is all too easy to throw in the towel and tell yourself that tomorrow you will make up for the ground you lost today. I have fallen into this trap many a time. And as a survivor of the pits of despairing inspirations, I have learned to combat them.

Nano was the first venture that taught me to view my work in a different light; it was exciting, exhilarating- playing off of my competitive nature to get me to sit down every night and string one word after another when all I wanted to do was curl up in bed with a movie. Fifty thousand words in one month, however, can become a bit daunting. And that is where the games come in. If you go to the forums you will find them- speed writing challenges, the fifty headed hydra, and my personal favorite- the word crawl. There are many games to keep you invested, to keep you plugging away at your work. And now, my friends, I have a new one to introduce you to.

I am a sucker for a good story, for a plot. Even in my fitness routines- my favorites are the apps that give you a distraction from the difficulty of what you are doing. There is the one that pretends you are a super hero or a space invader and you work out as you work your way through the story. Or the Zombies run app- an audio game that plays as you go for your daily jog, to keep you moving and excited to get back out there. And now we have a writerly version.

About a year ago I ‘won’ a beta subscription to a website called ‘4thewords,’ I believe it was something I wound up with through Nano, but that doesn’t particularly matter. It was a fun interactive website full of daily writing challenges that appear in the form of monsters you must battle (your timed word count is what determines whether you win or lose). You work your way through a storyline while battling creatures and collecting items- your success is dependent on your word count. The concept was something that I quickly fell in love with. However, technology can be a fickle friend, and , as they were still in beta, the site was fraught with technical bugs and glitches. It reached a point where my frustration grew too large and I stopped ‘playing.’ Opting to come back after a while when some of the issues might be a bit more ironed out. There was no blame to be hashed out- the idea was gold- but a bit more time would allow it to ripen.

Fast forward to now. Yesterday I was curious what happened to my old writing venture, so I came back. And behold- the beta clouds have passed, and we have taken the first bold steps into the early access mode. I have to say- I am so impressed with the huge strides the creative team has made in expanding and enriching the site. The visuals are bright and eye catching, the storyline is a bit more developed, the monsters are as cute and ferocious as ever, and the outcome is the same- it gets me writing again with a feverish determination that I haven’t felt in months. I will candidly admit that I have been struggling lately, and I have needed a boost. I have desperately been looking for that catalyst that will remind me why I do this every day. I have found it. I am on the adventure yet again.

The downside: there is now a subscription fee to the site, but at $4 a month, I think it’s worth it. Lucky for me, I got a few ‘crystals’ that I can use towards me fees for a couple of months- a thank you gift in exchange for being a part of the beta. For those of you who have never tried it- there is a free trial month if you are interested in giving it a whorl. I’m not trying to advertise, and I don’t get anything for sharing this site with anyone. But as fellow writers, it seemed like a fun thing to pass along. Perhaps I will meet you on the trail, my friends. I hope you are willing to take a leap and try something new. You might be surprised what you wind up with.