On Stories...

So we've reached the third round of edits for the book. Everything is so much clearer now, it's rather amazing how one little idea formed into such a massive project. The way that a wink can be ever so subtle and can result in a fifty year marriage with a slew of children and grandchildren. Spring is certainly in the air, here in Seoul. Everything is blossoming with the mind set on fruition.

I should actually be writing the story right now. But I feel I've neglected the blog ever so slightly and you are all in a need of an update.

When last we spoke...or really, I wrote, I was discussing words and their power. Poetic? Absolutely. But true nonetheless. Said blog entry was created on March 10...It's now May 5. (Happy Cinco de Mayo to my Mexican amigos...to my French amis...Well, you can still drink right?)

In Korea, it's also Children's Day...which means I can't go to a park or go by The Han...unless I want to be around a slew of families. I don't have anything against families. I love families. I love my own...most of the time. ^^ I'd rather not venture out today. Which is why I am holed up in a Starbucks, doing some research and some writing. Yes...that's the story I'm sticking with. ^^

Today I do want to talk about something though...I want to talk about stories. And the reasons why they were made up. To entertain? Surely. But let's take mythology for instance.

Mythology was used for explaining things that had no real explanation. Like how a spider was created. Or why wars were waged. This was the case of the Greeks. Hundreds of stories came from the gods they created. When you hear about these stories, especially the ones about Zeus and his conquests, you think "Eww. What a perv." Being that I am of Greek decent, I'm not at all surprised. Years later they did give the world Oedipus, mind you. Democracy too, yes. But Oedipus. And Yanni. Need I say more?
The Romans were no better--they copied their gods from the Greek ones. At least this is what the Greeks are told. "Everybody stole from us." ^^

As children we are told mythologies from Greek and Roman tradition but from other cultures it is a little hard to come by unless you are of a different culture/actually wish to study it. I read Celtic myths on my own and I have done minimal research on the Indian and Norse Gods. Egyptian? I never really heard stories from them. Just how they influenced Egyptian life. So I did some research. And yeah, there were actually some stories. It wasn't just all hieroglyphics and ways to explain their daily lives. I know that sounds really ignorant of me, but I was never taught this back in school. I learned that Egyptians made beer, made paper, and there were tons of crocodiles in the Nile, solidifying that I would NEVER want to take a dip in it (have I ever mentioned I'm deathly afraid of alligators and crocodiles??).

When Neil Gaiman came out with his amazing book American Gods, he sparked my interest again with mythology. But it's taken a long time for this spark to catch fire.

Lately I have been doing a lot of research on Egyptian mythology...all for the book I'm writing. Hint Hint. ^^ Will my mom think it's strange that I'm not using Greek mythology? Probably. Will I be the recipient of the dreaded Greek Guilt Trip? More than likely. But doing this kind of research has really made me miss school. I loved doing research and finding hidden gems that were in sync with what I was writing. I think that is one of my favorite part of the writing process...doing the research. Coming up with ideas. Seeing how the story unfolds... saying, "What if..."

I wonder if that is how myths truly began.

Like a conversation.

"Father, why does ____________ happen?"

"Well, a long time ago...."

And a story was created. Or perpetuated. The dots all connecting between an actual occurrence and an explanation. That moment that all the dots are connecting, yeah. I'm there.

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

And So It Begins...

I begin the spring semester in T-minus 25 minutes. This will be a short update, Dear Readers.

Winter Camp was a beast and I'm not only looking forward to reading new books with my core 2 novel classes, but also awaiting the warmer weather. It's been brutally cold in Seoul and while the US is just now starting to feel the shiver of winter, we Seoulites have been dealing with freezing water pipes and the iciest roads known to man.

I normally can handle the cold fairly well, but DAMN it's been friggin' frigid.

I recall finishing my first Winter Camp in January of 2011 (got here in December 2010) and I went to a jjimjibang with Kat and Jane. It was a reward for getting through the hardest part of my teaching career (the beginning). I haven't been to one since, which is not because the experience wasn't great--I just don't ever make the time. It was just lovely to alternate between the hot and the cold pools, until my body went into shock because I did it so much...
I recall telling Jane that my throat felt cold, and she responded, quite cheerfully mind you, "Oh, your body is going into shock." ^^
My eyes bulged out of my head. "WHAT?!" She nonchalantly said it again. As if this were an everyday occurrence.

Thinking back on it, it was probably best to receive that information in such a way--if I were to freak out, then it would have been much worse. So I asked what I should do, and she just said to get out of the water until it didn't feel cold anymore...and to just relax. I did and I was fine.

This, of course, has no bearing on why I haven't returned. Nor is it the "being naked in public" bit" either. At 33, I've become much more comfortable with my body, especially since I started going to the gym.

Which brings us to the second year of teaching...I went to Cambodia and Vietnam shortly after Winter Camp ended in 2012, so that was pretty awesome. It was a welcomed treat to get out of the cold. My body didn't go into shock, although I did get a pretty nasty sinus infection from inhaling all the dust whilst riding in the tuk tuk.

To be honest, Seoul had an incredibly mild winter last year. It snowed all of three or four times and it didn't seem to be that cold.

Which brings us to the most bitter and Siberian-like winter I've ever experienced...I needed something or some place HOT. Like HOT HOT. But with a minimal amount of money in my bank account, what could a girl do? I surely deserved something tropical after the subzero temperatures. Right?

There was only one thing that I wanted...

So what did I do this year? Oh you know...nothing fantastic...just saw the BEST K-POP BAND EVER! My friend and co-worker, Sarah, and I scored tickets courtesy of her rad boyfriend, Kyu, and off we went to see BigBang!!

We were so close it was insane. At one point, Seungri (the maknae of the group)winked, waved, and mouthed "hi" to us. I've read many articles that he likes foreigners so "hey girl hey!"

TOP is still number one, but I have to say they all looked great, even Daesung, whom I normally could do without. Taeyang was amazing--he has mad skills on the dance floor... And G-Dragon...damn. That boy was so sexy. He has such commanding stage presence.

We sang our hearts out, and it was such a welcomed form of release from all the stresses of the winter intensive camp and it certainly gave us something to smile about when we told our students about the concert on Monday morning.

Pictures, you ask? Sure...keep in mind that they mostly aren't that clear due to the fact that these boys were always moving about, but I got a few good shots on my iPhone. I also didn't start taking photos until the encore performances because if security caught you taking pictures, they would kick you out. I saw one middle school Korean girl get ousted and she had tears in her eyes. I am not about to drop 100,000 won to see my favorite K-Pop group and then get kicked out. By the encore, no one cared anymore. ^^

This is Sarah and I on the way to the show. ^^

TOP!

Daesung and G-Dragon!

Dae and TOP!

Taeyang!

Seungri!

TOP and Dae!

TOP ^^

I just like this picture--none of the members are in it, but it just makes me happy.

Tae!


TOP, GD, and Tae!

GD in action...quite possibly my favorite shot of the night. ^^ G-Dragon just has so much swag. ^^

Sarah and I after the show. Still beaming!

We were in 001 section, right by the stage. ^^



So yeah...In my after Winter Camp excursions, I went from going into shock, to going to tropical temperatures, to going into shock over the hotness that was displayed before me...Progression is everything, I suppose. ^^

I can't wait until next year...

xo

c

Day One.

So here it is. Day one of a new year. How did you spend it? Hungover? Yeah. Me too.


Oddly enough, I'm not unhappy about that. In years past I would be--why would anyone want to spend the entire first day of a new year throwing up, sleeping, barely eating, and with the most excruciating headache?


But I had a shift. And the shift is this: I purged. I purged out the person I used to be. The ugly parts that I hid and could never accept but still held onto it because I thought they would one day turn from the ugly ducklings they most certainly were, into beautiful and graceful swans. They didn't. So they had to go. I don't need to hold on to them anymore. The regret. The guilt. The sadness. They didn't made me humble. They made me miserable. They didn't turn me into a brooding artist. I was already the artist. They just used up my ink, wasted my paper, and refused to see it any other way. They had to go.

They won't be put out in the recycling to be turned into something else. They have been put into the incinerator. Burned and out of my life, forever.

Yes. I slept. I needed the rest. Because only when you are rested, can you wake up anew. Refreshed. Hopeful. Embracing this new day of this new year. I will no more listen to the voices would have whispered to me, "You wasted an entire day." No. I dreamed. I danced. I soared. And I woke up to find that the dream is reality. No more exhaustion. No more mental anguish. No more mulling over the things I could have done or said in the waking hours. And by the way, sleeping is AWESOME. ^^

Barely eating. I can see where I may lose you on this one. This has nothing to do with weight loss--although that would be a great segway to the health goals I will follow through with during 2013. This is about having a new stomach. It was empty, like a new box and I get to decide what to fill it with. I decided what will fuel me. What will give me sustenance. I have control. I have power. To be honest, I didn't have much of a say in today's particular meal. It is customary in the South (I was born in Georgia, ya'll...no accent though, don't get excited) to eat pork and greens. I didn't have much in the way of greens but I did have some donkatsu. So why the pork? There is a little superstition that Southerns hold to on New Year's Day. My mom actually posted this on FB:

New Year's day good luck meal; eat pork, why? Because the pig Never walks backward always goes forward! Eat oranges or fruits that are around symbolizing coins for prosperity. Eat black-eyed peas or lentils because they are around and symbolize money. Do not eat chicken or lobster -chickens have wings and fly away and so will your luck. Lobsters swim backwards.

I reminded her that Chickens also eat by scratching the ground and then back up to eat their meal. Cows stand still when they eat.
Now I suppose you could ask me about fish...and I'll tell you that I don't really like fish. So there's that. ^^ And for vegetarians? Are there vegetarians in the South? hehe Kidding. Kidding. No really. Are there?

And then there was the headache. The one that happens because alcohol dries you out and you need a plethora of water to rehydrate. To flush everything. And that was the reminder--it's time to flush it out, C. You have the ability. You have the resources. Drink it. That's all you have to do. It's so simple. It's always been simple--discovering a new path was always there. Sometimes you just don't want to see it. Sometimes you see it but think you aren't worth it. But you are. You really are.


So yeah. This is how I spent the first day of the rest of my life. How was it for you?

xox...
c

Oh...and a very Happy Happy Birthday to one of the best and brightest among us, Kathryn Bokyung Park! I love you to pieces! MWA!

A Good Thing

So it's December 29th. Glad we all survived that apocalypse. Although many of my spiritual friends have told me that it isn't necessarily an apocalypse, but a rebirth. So...Happy Birthday?

2013 is upon us and I have to say that I was grateful for 2012. I grew more as a human being and I am thankful for the experience. I accomplished a lot in the allotted time (more writing, more focus on what I want to achieve, etc) and I am proud to say that I made it through yet another year.

2013 will be a year of even more abundance and growth, and for that I am thankful. I did say goodbye to some amazing people in Korea in 2012 but I am hopeful for the new friends I will meet in the upcoming year. Not to mention the equally wonderful people I met and have gotten to know this year. 2013 will also be a year of transformations. I have slacked off considerably on working out, and I feel it. But I am ready to begin anew when the clock strikes midnight. And yes, I can start now, but I like the idea of starting fresh. I also like procrastinating. Surprised? Hardly.

I'm starting to think of what I want to resolve in 2013. Last year, I came up with 12 resolutions:

New Year Resolutions:
1. Learn to read/write/speak more Korean
2. Keep up with my fitness goals
3. Travel :)
4. Relax
5. Be financially free
6. Get closer to God
7. Fall in Love
8. Put myself first:)
9. Sing
10. Write :)
11. Be proactive
12. Fulfill my purpose

I did learn more Korean, kept up with my fitness goals (up until the last few months), I travelled to Cambodia and Vietnam, I relaxed more, I feel I became closer to God, I sang, I wrote, I was more proactive than I had been in years, and I finally came to terms with my issues of being a writer. I didn't actually become financially free or fall in love...unless I can count falling in love with me.

Falling in love...with me. Yes, I said it. I've always had a love/hate relationship with myself...mostly I loved to hate me. I had this idea in my head that degrading myself made me more humble, and that's just not the case. Then I would make myself wrong for putting myself down. And that's not right either. But then I came to realize that I was never comfortable being me, because I never allowed myself to be me. It was always some version of what I thought everyone wanted to see. I was an actress in my own life. And I guess I was convincing--to most people. But there were a few who knew me well enough to call me out on my bullshit.

To be honest, that is one that I've always hated--being called out. It's forcing you to take responsibility where you just don't want to. I do have a good friend who always calls me out...and I'm never comfortable with it because it makes me reexamine myself. Which means time for inner reflection. Which means I have to mull over my actions. It's like editing. I start second guessing myself and it makes me feel terrible.

But all in all, it is what good friends do. They hold you accountable for being you. Because they love you and they strive for truth. And because I love now love myself, or at least I am trying to (sometimes I don't make it very easy), I too am striving for truth. And that, my dear readers is what Martha Stewart calls "a good thing."

Happy New Year!

Hugs and Kisses!
c