It means National Novel Writing Month is less than 30 days away and you're panicking and procrastinating with literally everything else. Start the count down feeding the anxiety.
It means masks are in season.
I've worn plenty of masks in my life. I think we all have. A mask has its place. We see the hero run around with a mask to protect their loved ones. We see the villain wear a mask so they don't get caught. Masks are worn to protect something important. Masks are worn to hide something others might deem unsightly. Masks are used in lots of different situations. Many masks are worn for work. Some masks are worn for fun. Some masks are worn out of fear. Some masks are worn out of love. Some masks are obvious. Some masks aren't.
How long do you have to wear your mask before you forget it's even there?
It can be a dark spiral, especially on the internet. The more of yourself you reveal, the easier it is to be harmed. This is something we see in normal human interaction, just amplified by a thousand. Here, you can reach millions of people in seconds. And in seconds, the trolls emerge. And guess what trolls are - humans in masks. Be mindful of the mask you wear. Decide how much you need it. Carefully consider when and where and which mask to use. For whatever reasons you wear your mask, don't let it become you. At the end of the day, don't forget to take the mask off. We're all human, aren't we?
(I'm on a Fire Emblem kick. I'm not apologizing for it.)
In other news, the ISC rewrite prep is going... it's going. I dug up a bunch of antiquated documents and drawings and notes so I'll have to share those later. For some reason, writing goes a lot smoother if I pretend I'm writing another deleted scene or fanfic of someone else's canon story. It takes the pressure off if I tell myself it's all fake and can be changed or erased at any time. ... which is technically true. ISC was never about being serious. It starts off silly and goofy and just gets more fantastically elaborate the further you go with the characters constantly trying to one-up the previous act. I think that's the most charming part of it. Can I preserve that? I don't know. One thing I do know:
Hanna was always the mask.
"A song is reviled if no one should revere it.
So I want you all, yet none at all to hear it.
I've come to love a crowd just so much as fear it.
~
You want perfection? Lost in pursuit of it?
Take my direction, I can lead you to it.
The audience is not your friend, you just love their applause.
If you are familiar with National Novel Writing Month's schedule at all, then you know that October is "plantober". The time for you to plot, plan, put together a playlist, basically do everything except write. All in preparation for November - National Novel Writing Month. The challenge to write a novel's minimum length of words (50,000 words) in 30 days.
Last year was the very first time I reached the goal. I plan to do it again this year with Ice Sword Chronicles.
It's a big deal to me. It's a huge challenge. I told you ISC is my dream and this is how I'm putting those words into action. This November, I'm going to finally write ISC.
"But Savvy, you've said that before. You've tried before and you've always failed."
I know. I'll be honest here, I'm scared. I can't tell you the number of times I've read through ISC, trying to fill in all the missing pieces, the actions, the setting, the plot, the facial expressions, the themes, the narrative, the continuity (what even is that?!). I can't tell you how many times I've started rewriting it only to stop and put it aside.
ISC is my dragon to slay. ISC is my Smaug as well as my Erebor. I want so badly for it to be perfect and whole and finished. Yet I get so scared of ruining it. Will my coauthors like it if I change x? Will readers still enjoy it if I include y? What was this character's true motive? What was that character really trying to say? How much is too much? When will I know if it's enough? If I wait a little longer, maybe we can all get together and keep writing like we used to. If I wait a little longer, maybe the end will reveal itself. If I wait a little longer, maybe my coauthors will finish it for me (abhorrent of me, I know).
We started writing ISC in May of 2009. Most of it was written by December of that year, but the story was not finished. It finally tapered off in 2012 when we could no longer keep up with writing, scheduling, and life. I've been waiting a decade for time to rewind so we can finish what we started. That's never going to happen. If I leave it alone, it will never change. It will never get worse, but it will never get better either. Printed book sets on store shelves, animated shows, movie deals, action figures, tshirts, video games (we dream big, ok?) - none of that can ever happen unless something changes. I'm tired of waiting. I don't have time to keep waiting for the perfect word, the perfect day, the perfect song. I have other stories waiting for me to write them. I have other dreams I want to achieve.
So here's what's gonna happen. Come November, I'll start rewriting. I don't know how much of the story I actually get through, but I will hit the 50k in 30 days mark. I'll win NaNoWriMo again. Maybe I'll get through the whole story. We'll see. The end is still a mystery to me.
(Almost put in a Fire Emblem: Three Houses image because it is SO CLOSE to ISC's Main Character weapons.)
I'm planning to post the sections as I write through them. I haven't decided yet if that means post here or post on ISC's blog. Let me know which you'd prefer with the handy poll on the side.
If you are family and friends, cheer me on. Ask me about my writing. I need the pressure.
If you are my gaming buddies, I'll probably be online less. Or maybe online more as I procrastinate when I should be writing. One of the two.
My coauthors - I have a specific request of you. I'm not going to ask you to read through all of ISC and help rewrite it (again). That's a huge ask and Nov is busy enough as it is with holidays, school, work, and end of year chaos.
What I want is this: as I post the rewrites, let me know what stands out that needs changing. The small stuff - "My character actually has magenta hair." The big stuff - "My character probably wouldn't say/do that, they would say/do this instead." Any ideas for the ending. Anything you've wanted to add or alter. Any helpful ideas or music tracks. Any critiques at all.
I want to be true to your characters. This story is as much mine as it is yours. I have always believed that. We wouldn't be here if it weren't for you. I will try to keep the light-hearted hero vibe, but no promises. I'm also hoping that posting in bite-sized chunks will be easier to read through and give input on than say a 117k word google doc. *cough* FSC *cough*
(Also, I realize Hanna's a pain to deal with... and dramatic... and just awful, but I promise she'll be better.)
Lastly, to everyone, be patient with me and this process. The first draft of anything is going to look bad. It's going to be a hot mess as I figure out continuity and story elements and world building and wrangle the dialog into... something that makes sense. I want to keep as true to the Original as I possibly can, but it may take on a form all it's own (Other?). November will be focused on writing as many words as possible. The months after that are for editing. You can fix anything in editing, but you can't edit a blank page.
I'm done waiting. I'm going to finish what we started. I'm writing for me. For everything ISC can be and more. For Hanna. For Misty. For DJ. For Brady. For Hairam. For Ace. For Jester. For Eve. For Ember. For Iul. For Lui. For Frodo. Whatever it takes.
So I'll ask you again...
How far would you go to protect the ones you love?
And if you want to take a whack at NaNoWriMo this year with me, look me up!
Can we talk about Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs for a minute? I think we should talk about Maslow's Heirarchy of Needs. Because that explains the large gap in time between posts for me (the decade-ish gap, not the month gap since my last post).
In short, it's a chart someone came up with to describe human needs and their priority. At the bottom you have the very basic necessities: food, water, shelter, clothing, etc.
The next step up is what a human seeks when those first needs are met: physical safety, financial stability, health, connection, etc. After that: deeper social connections, love, belonging. After THAT, you get to self esteem: respect, achievement, self worth, etc.
The final tier is self actualization: the highest form of potential a human can reach for. The big questions in life. Morality, purpose, meaning, imagination, creativity.
I'm sure you could google it and look through all the research on it, but the premise is this: a person can't focus on the next tier of needs unless the previous needs are met. A person isn't going to reach for the stars until their terrestrial life is safe and fulfilled. (I'm sure I butchered it, but you get the idea.)
Growing up, it is the hope that children have all these needs met already by their parents/guardians. Children shouldn't have to worry about food, safety, money, etc. They are safe and fulfilled and free to learn, explore, and imagine.
As we grow into adults, we become the ones fulfilling these needs for ourselves. We have to make sure these needs are still met and then turn around and provide them for the next generation.
The ideal scenario is that every human is able to reach their full potential. A beautiful dream. The reality is a bit harsher. I don't know that a lot of people get to reach their full potential. I think too many of us are stuck still trying to fulfill the basic needs.
I've seen a lot of people call it survivial mode. I can understand that. Between the pandemic, the economy, the politics, the wars, and the social ruptures ON TOP of the everyday demands of work, family, friends, and general self upkeep, it's no wonder most of us are a hair's bredth from losing our ever loving minds at any given moment. It's no wonder we live one day to the next looking for the next break, the next rest, the next shoe to drop. It's no wonder we go to bed at night utterly exhausted and wake up the next morning unsure of what day it is because they all feel the same. It's a hard cycle to get out of. Maybe some of us never get out of it. But we still have to try.
I digress. I don't want this to be another dismal post. Some are able to climb through the needs and reach that top tier. Some fight for that top tier even when the other needs aren't met and we applaud them all the more for it. Eminem's Lose Yourself, Dolly Parton's Nine to Five, Loverboy's Workin for the Weekend. Maslow's Heirarchy of needs isn't a new concept. I didn't learn it in college. I learned it in business.
My point with bringing it up is this. It's really hard to get to the creative and fun things in life if you're barely making it through the day. If you spend an hour or two in transportation to work every day, work a demanding and stressful job for 7-10 hours, then come home to more responsibilities, you don't have the time, energy, or creativity to do anything but survive. And the worst thing you can do is berate yourself for not being able to be as creative as you want. It's taken me a solid 8-10 years to get to a point where I can write again. There were days I wanted to write, but didn't have the energy. Or when I had the energy, I didn't have the time. And if by some miracle I had both, I had no creativity left to spend. Most days, I didn't feel like writing. Most days, I didn't think I had anything worth sharing. It's a hard pit to climb out of. I had a lot of help. I put in a lot of work to better myself so I could better my position. Now, I have time, I have energy, and I have support. Only recently have I been able to get the creativity going again.
The stories I abandoned haunted me. My characters left unfinished whisper in my ear. I think they've been slow cooking on the back burner long enough. Don't you? At the moment, I will write while I am able. I want to breathe life into my stories and let them walk free. That's not to say another cataclysmic life event won't knock me down again. I'm sure it will. And when it does, I'll get back up. I have to.
The world may be cruel and unforgiving, but now I know my place in it. I'm a writer. I spent so many years trying to figure out what I was good at. Trying to find a purpose. I don't know if I'll ever be a good writer. At least I can be good enough. I don't know if anyone will ever read what I write, but that's okay. What I do know is that I need to finish what I started. After that, we'll see where the road takes me.
On that note, I have a few changes I want to make.
1. I miss the person I was 10 years ago. I'll bring her back. It's time to put away the mask. If you see more online activity from me, that's why.
2. My websites need an update. Desperately. (Looking at you, non-https web address.) Whether that means creating a new site or moving the blog, I'm not entirely sure yet. I know for a fact the ISC fb page is full of bots now so that's on the docket too. Again, not sure what the play is right now, but I'll figure something out.
3. Ice Sword Chronicles is my dream. I'll get it written. I'll finish the prequels. I'll finish the sequels. I'll get them published. It won't die with me.
It will be a very long road ahead to get these changes into place. I can only take it one day at a time. The changes won't happen overnight, as much as I would love for them to. I've put off these dreams long enough. I'm going to accomplish them with or without your help. Because at the end of the day, I'm not doing them for you.
I'm writing for me.
That said, I'm not an idiot. If you would like to help or have tips, I won't turn you down. I need all the help and support I can get. :p
If you made it this far, congrats! You can read the first two re-written sections of Hanna's Prequel here!
I talked about going on more adventure and making memories in my last post.
Guess what?
I went on an adventure!
In short, I went to a city a few hours away and got my picture taken with some people. It doesn't sound very adventurous, but to me it was more than that.
I spent 3 weeks beforehand staring at an opportunity, contemplating whether or not I should go for it. A week before the event, I pulled the trigger and bought tickets to go to my first ever "comic-con" style convention. I drove three hours there by myself, blasting music with the windows rolled down the whole way. I probably spent about 4 hours waiting in lines. Waited in line to get in the door, waited in line to get my wristband, waited in line to get my picture. The picture itself was a second of my time, three seconds at most. As soon as I got what I came for, I drove three hours home, with more music.
Was it worth it?
It was to me.
The picture-taking process goes so quickly. It has to with the number of fans they work through. I was probably their 1,000th picture that day and there were still 500 people behind me. There is a short moment where everyone present looks up to see the next person in line.
In that second, all those familiar faces look at you. It feels like walking into a room and seeing all your old friends again. All the memories come rushing back. Every scene. Every line. Every smile. Every tear. (I've watched LotR extended edition a few times.)
A flash and that moment is gone. All I could do was smile at them. I didn't have time to thank them. It wasn't even enough time to say hello. I went home that night and pondered what I would have said to them, if I had the chance.
I would have told Miranda Otto she did not age a day. Her fierceness, courage, and beauty have outlasted and outshone every elf I know.
I would have told Sean Astin that Sam was always the hero to me. Frodo wouldn't have got far without Sam. Everyone needs a Sam.
I would have told Billy Boyd his songs still inspire my writing even today. I would like to hear him sing more.
I would have told Dominic Monaghan that Charlie was my favorite. Had I been clever, I would have written Not Penny's Boat on my hand.
I would have told John Rhys-Davies he was an excellent Gimli and excellent Sallah. He is a strong favorite of many.
I would have told Craig Parker that Haldir didn't deserve to go down like that and the movies did not do his eyes justice. They stood out like blue beacons in person.
I would have told Lawrence Makaore his portrayal of Lurtz, Gothmog, and the Witch-king of Angmar have inspired several epic battle scenes.
I would have told Sala Baker he made an excellent Sauron and action movies wouldn't be what they are without bad guys and stunt performers.
I hope, somewhere along the line, someone would have said these things to them.
This post is not to glorify these people beyond what they are. They are just as human as I am. They are actors paid specifically to look and talk pretty. They sit and smile for hours and talk on panels about movies they played in 20 years ago because they still get paid to. If an actor is good at his job, would you even know? What I do know is all humans are mortal and I wanted to see these humans before we lose any more of them.
It was just a picture. But it was more than that. For one second, I wasn't awkwardly standing next to a group of strangers. For one second, I was in the Shire. I was in Rivendell. I was in Lothlorien. I was in Rohan. I was in Gondor. For one fleeting second...
I was THERE.
It was worth it to me.
I wish I could have said thank you.
Maybe it was good I didn't have time to think about it. I would have started crying. The convention was still enjoyable, in spite of the lines. I got to see tons of amazing costumes and cosplays. I got to hear funny stories from the other people in line with me. I got to chat with an author. I went on an adventure and had fun.
If you're wondering if my social skills have improved over the years at all, here's how the chat with the author went.
I'm walking around the vendor booths when I see someone wave at me. I think, "Oh, that kinda looks like my friend Isaac." I walk over and realize it is not Isaac, but a total stranger who asks, "Do you like to read?" (At a comic-con? Chance in a million.)
Um. Yes.
"Would you like to hear about a book I wrote?"
Um. Yes.
And he goes on about his story of a were-otter that protects earth. (???????)
But I think, "Hey, this is the perfect opportunity to mention that I write and maybe he has tips of how to get from first draft to selling printed books at comic-cons."
I bring up NaNo and how I have a full first draft done and he says, "Cool! What do you write?"
Fiction.
That's it. That's all. Fiction. Did I mention mirror realms, portals, young adult adventure, fantasy, superheroes, clones, time travel, or alternate versions of people? No. I said Fiction.
Joke's on me, I walked away with a new book and spent the next 3 hours trying to figure out how someone becomes a were-otter. Someone better help me with my elevator pitching if I ever get to marketing.
I don't know what to tell ya, friend. The guy had a strong opener, looked kinda like my friend Isaac, and his story about were-otters saving the earth is 100% something Isaac would have come up with.
Much has changed. We've collected many things along the way. Friends, family, scars, stuff, memories, experience. I've been digging through some of it. Rediscovering what makes me...
me
Truth be told, I've been so focused on just staying afloat for so long, I forgot how to do anything else.
By the time things slowed down enough for me to breathe and look around, I realized how much I had let go. How much I lost.
Let's pause. You are far overdue for an update.
When we last parted, I graduated college. I just married. I started my first "real" job.
Here's everything that's happened since then:
A deer wrecked our only car 5 hours from home.
I tried and failed at an etsy store.
I lost my job.
Hubby got a good job.
We moved across the state into a 1 bedroom apartment.
Quit and started an admin job with a bunch of foresters.
Went on two wildfire deployments as a Status/Check-In Recorder using the Incident Command System.
Adopted a dog (Sam)
Promoted to a better job within the organization.
Bought and moved into our first house (yay!).
Adopted a second dog (Toph)
Lost my father to the pandemic.
Therapy is in there somewhere. As are weddings, funerals, helping people move, more professional development courses than I can count, vehicle fixes/purchases, visits with friends and family, and just living life.
My husband has stood with me through all my crazy antics. For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness, in health, to love, and to cherish. By the grace of God, we're still here. 8 1/2 years later. My husband is patient and kind and gentle and smart and loving and so much better than I deserve. Is he perfect? No. Neither am I. But we are perfect for each other.
My life doesn’t look however I expected it to look 10-15 years ago. My life doesn’t look like my friends' lives. That's okay. It's pretty great, in spite of the flaws. There are a lot of good things along with the not so great ones.
Over the last year, I've:
Participated and won National Novel Writing Month (first time ever).
Wrote a full story (start to finish) in 6 months.
Met up with an online gamer friend and hung out together (hopefully a new trend).
Put together my first ever public cosplay for the Renaissance Festival.
Dusted off this old place. *looks around* *brushes away the cobwebs*
I've had more time lately to delve back into things I enjoy (crafts, video games, writing, baking, etc). I've hardly written anything of consequence in the last decade, yet in November I had a story to tell and decided to give NaNo another try again. After all, any words on paper are better than no words. I really, really want to finish Ice Sword Chronicles. (Hang in there, Blitz and Boomer, I'll get back to you eventually!)
But it's more than that. Since my father passed, it really hit me how fragile and short life is. It felt like my clock was running out. I realized that if I didn't share my stories, they would die with me. And I can't let that happen. I missed my chance at seeing my favorite band ever perform live. I'm not missing the chance to meet and visit the online friends we've been in communication with for years. Obviously, I'm still restricted by work schedules and travel budgets, but if an opportunity presents itself, I have to take it. I can't let fear stop me. Not any more.
So here's to more stories. Here's to making new memories. Here's to making some of my dreams a reality. Come with me, if you want.
There is a time for everything in life. While I would love to surround myself with music, silence is unavoidable. Perhaps even necessary. This is a memorial of sorts. A place for the fallen to carry on. A place to rest my sorrow while my heart heals. It's not an exhaustive list by any means. There are many more names I could add. At the same time, I'm glad it's not longer. There are also many who did not think they would make it to today's sunrise, but that is a story for another time. Suffice to say, I'm glad they're still here.
To the list at hand - when I think back on my life, these have stood out as having the most impact. These are the people I still weep over, even after years have passed. It still hurts. These names and faces may mean nothing to you, but they meant something to me.
Let that be enough.
Jeffrey Jinkerson
A warrior among warriors. A poet among poets. A gentle flame in the dark. A genuine face in a sea of masks.
Stan Mitchell
A teacher, a mentor, a friend. A real life uncle Iroh who left the world (and the people in it) better than he found it.
Chester
Your songs said what I never could. They helped me through my darkest moments. You gave me somewhere I belong.
Papa
I can say no more. Maybe one day I'll find the words. Maybe no words are needed.
SilverAngel
My friend and coauthor for 14 years. You were a beacon of hope to me. I can only pray I can be that beacon for others. I won't let your stories die with you. Always Hope.
I know. Social media isn't the place for vulnerability. It's a place of smiling pictures and happy facades. If that's what you're looking for, keep scrolling.
I won't keep you.
I wrote a letter to my father. You don't have to read it, but I know he never will so you might as well.
Anyway
Today's your birthday. That's okay. It's just a day. But if there was never you, there wouldn't be me. I'm here anyway.
I baked a cake you'll never taste. That's okay. I burned it anyway.
I wrote a song you'll never hear. That's okay. I'll never sing it anyway.
I wrote a book you'll never read. It's full of all the words I never said. That's okay. I'll never say them anyway.
I look in the mirror and sometimes I see your face. Sometimes I see mine. That's okay. We both have gray hair anyway.
It's been 450 days since it started raining. It doesn’t feel like it ever stopped raining. That's okay. I built a boat, but it rains anyway.
The country you loved and spent 25 years in was invaded two weeks after you left. I wish I could say the war is over, but it's not. It's not okay, but they're still fighting anyway.
It's not okay. We're not okay. I’m not okay. But I have to be anyway. So I will be anyway.
You told me to keep my heart tender. I can't count the number of times it's broken, but that's one promise I kept anyway.
You warned me about the ticking clock of time. I can hear it now. I can see thestrals now. If they were real, anyway.
