It's Been 10 Years, But I Just

Over the last few weeks, I have been itching to have another crack at writing the sequel to Fairies, because it's been ten years (almost) since I wrote it, I'm back in the place I wrote it (mostly) and I feel like it's about time. As in, it's about time I wrote it, the novel isn't about time. That would add a whole other level of complicated I can't deal with right now. 

4thewords is continuing to be a helpful beastie, because it makes me write at least 444 words a day, and sometimes the hurdle is just starting and putting pen to paper... well, fingers to keys. Once I get going, I'm not anywhere near NaNoWriMo personal bests of 20k days or writing 100k in a month, but I can crack through between 1.5-5k words a day without it interrupting my day too much, so where is the problem? 

Part of the problem is the characters. **If you haven't read Fairies, this is going to contain spoilers, so please consider this your alert.**

Fairies finished with Nate, Adamson, Louie, and, I want to say Felix, but who knows at this point!, returning to the fairy world because an eternal life as a fairy was better than a limited human life. They could make an impact on the lives of humans and they were important there. Seemingly simple? 

It's really not simple. 

Following on from their return to the fairy world, things change around quite a bit, so there's some of the sequel which is about them, some which is about Frank as my favourite person who was left behind in the human world (and someone who crops up into another novel I've been writing for just next to forever but needs a bit of character development in between the two!) and two new characters. One of the new characters is 'evil' and in league with the imps and the other is the one causing me the most problems, as she's Felix's (he's definitely called Felix - I checked) daughter. Originally I intended the story to be just about her, but every time I start writing about her, she seems to find some sort of tangent to go on and finding the way to make the actual storyline (and the reason I'm writing the book in the first place) to happen seems to be beyond me at the moment. 

Ah well - I've had a moan about it, and now I can get back to writing it, even though it's been at least five years since I read Fairies over again (only cringing most of the way through it) so the details are a little hazy and I have no idea where either the .pdf file or the proof copies are, but that's just a bit tough, isn't it?

In Too Deep,

I can already tell that this is going to be one of those blogs that I write more for me, and then look at and think, okay, maybe don't publish that, because of the fear that it leaves me feeling a little exposed. 

I'm sat here listening to what can only be called Romantic Ballads (no, seriously, that's what the Spotify playlist called them) and I can't say that it is helping with the whole effort of not getting emotional. 

Almost a year ago, a relationship that I had been in for a long time, and which I had emotionally committed to in such a thorough way came crashing to a not so abrupt end. It had been a long drawn out process that I can genuinely say wasn't helpful or healthy for either of us, and the truth is that it took a very long time for me to pick myself back up after that. A very long time.

Despite that, I worked on building the life that I wanted, which is an ongoing goal, but I am in a much better position now that I was 12 months ago. 

Now, I'm not going to say I'm over it, because I don't think I could commit myself to that, but I have got to the point where I could be happy, and that's dangerous.

Dangerous? Well, yes. Despite the fact that I can be alone, I can do things by myself and only be mildly uncomfortable, I am happy with my own company and don't really need to leave the house at weekends if I don't want to, the dangerous thing is, I like being in a relationship. 

I like having that special person I speak to all the time, that I can feel close to and that I can laugh with. I like having that commitment to that person. I don't know why, I just do. 

And danger occured. 

Out of nowhere - I wasn't even looking for once, appeared this man. In my usual styling, I'm not going to put his name on here, but C walked into my life quite casually, and then that was it; he was there. 

I'm not going to say that meeting him felt like nothing I had ever been through before, because it was like something I had before, and maybe that was part of the problem. In the space of when I stopped writing these blogs and when I started again, I met him, I started dating him, I stopped dating him and I realised I had fallen for him. And I also realised how much I hated that I let myself fall for him. 

Now, I know it's not like you get a choice in it, but really, I should have known better. He's in a place in my life that it will be a while before he will be gone, or I would have to do something drastic to get rid of him, and I don't want to do that. Partly because I don't want rid of him from my life. The beautiful thing about it has been that despite the fact that there have been tears, there has been pain, and there has been a bit of heart break, on my side at least, it's been pretty amiable. Most of my breakups have been screaming arguments or accusations and all that sort of thing - this has been a very polite, I guess. 

So, why am I mentioning this? Well, because, right at this moment, I don't want to write anything to do with romance, because it makes me want to tear my own eyelids off. I also don't want to ruin the thing that I wrote for NaNo by writing something stupid like, and they broke up because happy endings are for Disney and everything sucks. But where would we be if I didn't have an excuse for not writing? 

Catch you later.

Priorities,

Christmas and family make you think about your priorities a lot, and with the new year looming people begin to think about New Year's Resolutions. 

I might have mentioned previously that I am taking part in Veganuary. I want to do it to prove to myself that I can, and to explore the different culinary options available. Part of the idea is going to be seeing if I can actually drop the amount of meat products I have in my diet as a long term plan, though the success of that is to be measured later. 

My other "resolution" is to aim, as thoroughly as humanly possible, at getting my own place. 

I don't do overly well living with other humans because I like things to be a certain way. I like to know that when I am planning, on the train home, to cook a meal in a certain way that the knives for cutting things and the board I like are there and ready to be used. I also like to know that no one has eaten any of my ingredients, though that has happened before now. 

As much as I remember the solitude which can be created, because I felt that plenty of times in my little studio flat, it can also be wonderful to be able to come home after a really shitty day and be able to shut the door on everything else. You can shut the door and leave it outside along with anyone that you don't want to invite to cross your threshold. There is a stability and a sense of home which I don't really get from living in a shared house. Granted, I'm going to have to deal with that in case of a significant other, or kids or whatever, but still, it would be nice to have some time and space to myself and it is something I can't wait to create. 

The idea of a home is something really important to me and a lot of the things which are left at my mother's house are actually things I want for my future flat. I would probably have chosen the wall colours by now if I didn't know that it was going to be at least a few years before I was actually able to put paint on my own walls. 

Ah well, onwards and upwards...

Illogically Yours,

I am one of these people who likes to be pretty logical. I chose to do a degree that made me be logical and think logically through arguments. The problem is I have to stop, sit and think about it.

And most I don't. 

I don't sit and think about it at all, so I didn't wash my hair before getting my ear piercing and now I need to do it before work tomorrow. It is going to hurt like hell, I know, but it's not going to last that long. And it's no worse than me trying to scratch my ear and accidentally flicking my piercing and feeling the pain of that.

People then ask me what I do it for, and the obvious one is asking if you do it for attention. There is never anything more annoying than this question, because while some people do things for attention, I don't get piercings for it. 

The big reason is I like them. I can't explain why any more than people can explain why they like a certain type of music as opposed to others. They please me, like acoustic guitar music, and that is a good enough reason for me. 

Now, my other reason isn't the enjoyment of pain so much as it is that feeling of having accomplished something. I'm scared of needles, but I have to have them in order to have my piercings. The idea of something being painful freaks me out, but I have to get past that, and I do. I know that I am stronger than my fears. 

Sometimes when I need to remember that I can be brave, I just have to look at them and know that I had to be brave to have them. If I have done it before, I can do it again, and I will. 

Sometimes bravery is facing pain, sometimes it's facing criticism and sometimes it is facing failure. I know it is possible to fail every time I send chapters somewhere or self-publish anything, but the only thing that being scared achieves is making me fail in a different way. 

Basically, I'm putting my big girl pants on and getting on with this. 

Catch you later.