I forget what post exactly started me reading Chatting at the Sky. I believe my friend Kelly first suggested it to me. I knew right away it was a blog I wanted in my reader. I knew it would encourage me to pursue my writing. And any other "art" I would decide to try my hand at. That is how I landed here. Taking on this challenge of writing every day for a month. Taking on the challenge of finding 31 things to say on the same basic topic. Taking on the challenge to talk about hope.
Today was hard. Late night combined with fragile morning combined with "Hormones" combined with a dreary, gloomy day equaled hard. A few tears shed. A few laughs shared. Some prayers spoken. Today was the first day I truly blanked on what to write. I had thought of something at some point this afternoon, but as I sat down to write I could not for the life of me remember. I have one thought I've been ruminating on, but I think it should be my last post in the series, so I'm holding on to it. I thought about looking at the word Hope in songs or movies. I thought for a minute I had my idea when I was watching Once Upon a Time on ABC tonite and the main character says something about Hope being the most important thing to still have. But I can't remember exactly what she said, I don't think the clip will be posted online yet, and it just plain feels cliche. Not to mention I'm not even sure I can stretch it out into a whole post.
My art, however, I can always stretch out into a full post. I mentioned to a student last week that I had thought about asking him to edit my book. He said something about his friend also writing books. She asked how many I had written, I said 2 1/2. She giggled and said she'd written 10-12. I was discouraged for a few minutes as I considered her youth, but then she asked how long my novels were. "My first one was 55,725 words." I truly said it without arrogance or attitude. She immediately responded "You totally have me beat." Apparently her novels are comparatively quite short.
When my mom heard how long my book was she said "Seriously? Where do you even come up with that much to write about? I can barely write a Thank You card." Then she read the whole novel. And, had good things to say about it. Another good friend, and aspiring writer, also read it and agreed with her. They both had suggestions and gave me red inked copies back, but overall they liked my story. Nearly everyone I tell is impressed that I've written a 50,000 word novel. They're doubly impressed when I say I've done it twice. (Pun fully intended)
My writing gives me another world to live in for awhile. Another place to be. Somewhere else to park my mind for awhile. I'm an over-thinker. I way over think nearly everything in life. I have to have a TV on to fall asleep because otherwise my brain does not stop for over an hour. Watching movies I love or TV shows I enjoy and reading are all outlets to shut down my over-thinker for awhile and relax. And writing. Creating an entire situation for someone to live in and work through releases me from trying to figure out my own messes. I think I could survive as long as I had one of those options available. But if you took away all the options I think I'd end up committed to a psych ward somewhere.
As hard as this has been to post every day. As hard as it has been to think of something new to say about Hope every day. It has refreshed my hope. It has reminded me that the more I look for hope, the more I will find hope. It has renewed my hope-er, that part of my heart and mind that takes care of my hope and keeps it alive. And I am very excited for NaNoWriMo to start tomorrow night. I'm going to open this novel with an incredibly cliched phrase just so I can write it at midnight to say I started right away and then go to bed. Tonite, my hope is Harry Potter. Tomorrow my hope will be Lydia. Who knows what next month will bring!
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