On Words

Anne Sexton once wrote:

My business is words. Words are like labels,
or coins, or better, like swarming bees.
I confess I am only broken by the sources of things;
as if words counted like dead bees in the attic,
unbuckled from their yellow eyes and their dry wings.
I must always forget how one word is able to pick
out another, to manner another, until I have got
something I might have said...
but did not.

Your business is watching my words. But I
admit nothing. I work with my best, for instance,
when I can write my praise for a nickel machine,
that one night in Nevada: telling how the magic jackpot
came clacking three bells out, over the lucky screen.
But if you should say this is something it is not,
then I grow weak, remembering how my hands felt funny
and ridiculous and crowded with all
the believing money.

"Said the Poet to the Analyst"

I recently read this poem as it is a part of a massive collection of her work and quite frankly, I was floored. This is not the first time I have been leveled by Sexton's poetry--far from it. But as the second round of rewrites is coming to a close, it really struck a chord with me. Words are my business. Words are funny. Words mean things. Words can be words, at face value, but they can be so much more. I love words.

But words can also hurt. They can be used to express disapproval, disappointment, or sheer hatred of someone or something. We are told to choose our words carefully. They can be used against us.

Sometimes we have no words. Or they fail us. Do they really? Or do we fail words? Do we fail to put the written word with some emotion, some thought, something that cannot be explained. The amazingly wordy John Steinbeck once wrote, "In utter loneliness, a writer tries to explain the inexplicable." Perhaps truer words have never been written.

If you have read the Bible, then you know it begins in Genesis by saying, "In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth." But by the beginning of the fourth book of the New Testament, John writes, "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God." Jewish people cannot write the name God, as it is far too holy. Muslims believe that Allah and his prophets cannot be depicted as it is incredibly disrespectful as well as it can lead to idolatry...Cannot the written word do the same?

I said before that words can hurt. They can aid a bully in compartmentalizing someone or something. That old saying, "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me." Whoever wrote that was a liar...or perhaps my words are too hurtful?

Words Are Powerful. They provide meaning. Context. They. Can. Be. Slowed. Theycanbespokenquicklyforadesiredeffect. Words can inspire. Words can deflate. Choose them carefully. Choose them as you choose your friends. In the end, you will be remembered by them.

Thoughts on the Book and other nonsensical musings

I have noticed an influx of readers as of late. Wow! Thank you all for being so supportive of my little ramblings that border on realm of insanity. I invite you all to subscribe to the blog as I will be using this more often to communicate thoughts and whatnot (and trust me, there is a whole lot of whatnot).

As of now, we are taking a break from the book that I have been writing so it should prove to be a relaxing weekend. At least that is the hope. We will have to wait and see how it plays itself out. Things will resume next week.

I suppose I should at least explain this interesting writing venture...

It started one Monday afternoon when I walked into my hagwon (a private academy in Korea--they can be English, Math, Science, Korean, History, even sports). I was asked how my weekend was and I mentioned the fact that I had actually taken the time to write on my blog and even wrote a short story. Then came the, "You're a writer?" question and the rest just kind of fell into place. I was given a character description and a genre and I wrote a fun mystery story about a kid who lives in NYC and likes to solve mysteries, sort of like Encyclopedia Brown. I wrote a few stories and when they were read by trusted reviewers, I was given the "Yeah, it's cute, but so what?" Once upon a time this would have devastated me. But I knew she was right. With the team, they pitched an idea to me and I thought about it, and said, "Okay. Let me see what I can flesh out from that..."

And that is how it all started. I have been working with Protostar to edit and publish the book. It has been so incredibly helpful to have a team of supportive people with me as I write this story. They've offered plot ideas, the same way a writers group would, and they have kept me on the path.

So often I don't see my creative projects through, simply because I have very little discipline. I can always tell someone how something is supposed to end rather than just write it.

Lack of dicipline. It was probably first noticed in my tap dance class. I would never want to sit down and learn the steps properly. I just wanted to listen to the noise my feet made. My instructor was probably about to go out of her mind when it came to the night of the receital. When it was time for the performance, it is no surprise that I was the only one doing a specific move from the other little girls. When my mom talked to the dance instructor, she laughed and said that I was the only one who remembered a particular move. Everyone else forgot. I still looked like the outsider but in all actuality, I was the one who did the right thing.
This little story has always reminded me that sometimes I may accomplish things in an unorthodox way. But the end result is the same.

So it should come as no surprise that I would write and self publish the book with Protostar. Self publishing, as a whole, always raises an eyebrow for those who call themselves writers. It's not the normal way. It's as if you can't call yourself a writer without getting rejected and feeling terribly inadequate about yourself as a writer, lover, human being, because you've received the worst kind of rejection...the equivalent of a fake phone number on a cocktail napkin after what you thought was a shared moment.
You mean we can bypass that self loathing and constant inquiry of "Why don't you get a real job?" from your parents, your lover/husband/wife, your friends, and most of all, yourself? Yeah. Kinda. You still have to write the book though. If it is to do well, then it has to be captivating. But in this era of indie everything, why not self publishing? Wouldn't the Modernists do the same?

If you have something to say, say it. If you have something to sing, sing it. If you have something to write, write it. Bring it to the world. You never know...someone could be waiting for that kind of blatant truth to enter their life.

And that's why we do it. To entertain? Yes. What writer wouldn't want the question, "What happens next?" posed to them? But it's about that connection with another person on a basic human level. That they see you, and you see them. And there is understanding. And from understanding there is acceptance. And from acceptance there is change. And from change there is peace. And from peace there is love.
And that's when it all comes into focus. When you see that the author is standing there on a bridge, meeting you half way, saying, "You don't have to go it alone."


You were never alone, dear readers...

c

A Mere Update On All Things Good

There is really zero time to be doing this but I feel that I have to at least update you slightly on what has been going on.

Round two of edits has been completed! THANK GOD! HALLELUJAH!

Editing is a harrowing process. It really is. But it is nearly over--we have a few testers who are reading it over and they will be giving us feedback. The early comments are pretty positive, which, quite frankly, I'm over the moon about that.

I actually wrote a Facebook note that only a few readers were privileged enough to see (my apologies dear readers, leaving you out may have been intentional but it was necessary to let only a few people see how crazy I really am), and the subject of said note was about editing. Editing the story. The eventual editing of this blog to make sure potential readers and fans of mine would not view any questionable material.

As JSJYC put it, "You're a celebrity now."

Am I? Maybe, maybe not. I mean, surely, that is the desired outcome. The next big thing. I can't begin to tell you the possibilities I feel from this creative venture. This is going to be big. I know that I shouldn't say such things...but I cannot contain myself anymore. I'm that little kid in the back of the classroom who has so much enthusiasm because she knows the answer THE question.

In other news, more friends have left Korea...I know I've said that it's the nature of the beast but man...it just doesn't get any easier when people you come to know, respect, and care for leave the ROK to go back home. I know that I feel tremendously at home with Korea, more so than I have ever been in America. It's like I was displaced. And before you ask, yes, I miss my family. It kills me daily to look at the pictures of my niece and nephews that my sister has sent to me through snail mail, email, and posts on Facebook. But sometimes you are meant to be somewhere. And I was meant to be here. If that ever changes, then it will be time to go home. For now, Seoul is home.

In other other news...Grad school has been weighing on my mind again...and this time I'm not considering an MFA...I'm thinking more of a Masters in Education or in TESOL. We'll see how it all pans out...it's just in the early stages of a thought process. There are too many unknown variables to postulate any sort of definitive answer. You'll just have to stay tuned.

Until then, dear readers and true believers....until then..

c