I feel this plague inside me festering, growing moment by moment...apathy and excess entwining to starve my spirit and to seek nothing more than gratifying...worshiping my sick and broken body.
What madness does possess me?
What do I see except this shallow graves
and endless rows of pale white stones
all cut from this one rock
hidden deep within my cave.
I see, I feel...but so much, so more than I is...and was and shall ever be.
Such beautiful I neglect, I hate, I spite...I write off as being lesser or just a patch as needed.
Such foolish inklings...my strength is gone
and so is my mind.
The witching hour has come
and for now
I must bid the bitter farewell
but not to shores I wish to see
but endless rotations
inside this personal cave.
I see shadows on the walls
and dare to hope,
yes dare to dream
that all that is will cease
and in its wake
brings peace beyond understanding
and love eternal
never without an end.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Saturday, October 9, 2010
"Jesus is for losers, the self-made need not apply"
As a rule of thumb I do my best to avoid politics.
I am trained in theology and philosophy, the golden tongue lies of the political norm is an area I try to never stray to far into because I honestly have trouble reconciling the loyalties demanded by a world government with my spiritual convictions.
A government has vested interests and those interests tend to seek preservation over anything as long as it makes its people happy and content. Christianity is not about contentment, if anything it takes ones self assured bubble and rips it to pieces and shoves the ugly truth of the fact that our middle class "utopia" is an anomaly floating on a world of poverty, disease and suffering.
That being said, for reason I do not fully understand, there is a huge contingent of Christians wrapped up in politics and more specifically the Republican party. The two golden calves of this movement tend to focus on gay marriage and abortion while seeming to neglect mostly anything else.
It seems all too easy to simply villainize and demonize those who have no voice in the major Christian circles and simply paint them as being "the enemy" that is stopping the marriage of the cross and eagle into this amazing theocracy that will bring about some mythical golden age of Christendom.
The thing that scares me the most is how that isn't hyperbole or sarcasm, that is the honest view of people and there has never been a marriage of Christianity and government that benefited anyone, it only made for a hollow faith that became an oppressor.
Which is irony in and of itself because Jesus came to set us free from the systems of this world, the shackles of tyranny and the need to divide people up based upon class of sinners.
That is what a politicized view of Christianity does.
The haves and have nots of faith.
We don't want our kids to be around the bad and dirty people...don't sully our churches with those who are gay, got too much color tone in their skin, the convict, the junkies, the doctor performing abortions...you know it is true...because even though we hate and will kill every Nazi, Jesus was the one who hung bleeding on a cross for every broken and self destructive sinner to walk this world.
Love is not a commodity we can use to guilt people into fitting into our niche of Christianity.
Just like how I have issues with the pro-life movement because it seems only concerned with aborted babies but doesn't speak up for those on death row or against the needless stupidity of all war.
Am I better then those Christians?
Do I have something they are missing?
It's not like I am some sort of golden child prodigy who has everything right.
I just feel strongly convicted in my human heart that there is no excuse, no reason, not bearable reason why any blood should be spilled.
Killing someone will never change the past and the final blood sacrifice was paid by the God who dared to come to his creation and forces us to move beyond our blind self serving stagnation.
There is finality in death that cannot be changed by human hands.
Should human hands have the authority to control who lives and who dies?
Can there really be any sort of justice from these imperfect and sinful hands?
Maybe it is silly to want to change the world at all when I can't even deal with my own crap...but I was cursed with the need to write what I see, what I feel, what I think...hope, pray and want to see.
Maybe just asking a question out loud is enough to do something...the hope and prayer I have is that the question will enter you, dear reader, and you will ask why and how...pray and maybe you will take a step, some sort of action.
Sunday, the 10th of October, is the World Day Against the Death Penalty and I think the Christian thing to do is to stop trying to take judgment into our hands and letting an imperfect system take the role of God.
http://www.amnestyusa.org/death-penalty/world-day-against-the-death-penalty-october-10-2010/page.do?id=1721023
The sad thing, is if the atheist and agnostic are right in saying Jesus was nothing more than a great moral teacher, they are at least taking Jesus more serious than any Christian.
For some reason it seems that we Christians don't think Jesus was serious in his sermons, in his life, sacrifice and resurrection. We are great at cherry picking Bible verses (see below) to suit our agenda, our needs and our wants...not letting the Spirit speak to our hearts and give us what we need.
Living in a culture of comfort where we ignore our sins and scream at others for daring to put a toe out of line...who are we fooling? Do you think the God we ignore and turn to only as a last resort will do anything else?
Even as we spit in his face while driving the nail into his hand...the love is there, vibrant and burning with such truth that we will never be able to ignore it, not even in our deepest levels of shame and fear. The beautiful horror is that as much as we resent Jesus for it...we need to be loved, to be forgiven and taken and held in our broken state...and to be taken and turned into something more beautiful than we could ever hope to be on our own.
“Don’t misunderstand why I have come. I did not come to abolish the law of Moses or the writings of the prophets. No, I came to accomplish their purpose. I tell you the truth, until heaven and earth disappear, not even the smallest detail of God’s law will disappear until its purpose is achieved. So if you ignore the least commandment and teach others to do the same, you will be called the least in the Kingdom of Heaven. But anyone who obeys God’s laws and teaches them will be called great in the Kingdom of Heaven.
“But I warn you—unless your righteousness is better than the righteousness of the teachers of religious law and the Pharisees, you will never enter the Kingdom of Heaven!
“You have heard that our ancestors were told, ‘You must not murder. If you commit murder, you are subject to judgment.’ But I say, if you are even angry with someone, you are subject to judgment! If you call someone an idiot, you are in danger of being brought before the court. And if you curse someone, you are in danger of the fires of hell.
“So if you are presenting a sacrifice at the altar in the Temple and you suddenly remember that someone has something against you, leave your sacrifice there at the altar. Go and be reconciled to that person. Then come and offer your sacrifice to God."
** ** ** **
“You have heard the law that says the punishment must match the injury: ‘An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I say, do not resist an evil person! If someone slaps you on the right cheek, offer the other cheek also. If you are sued in court and your shirt is taken from you, give your coat, too. If a soldier demands that you carry his gear for a mile, carry it two miles. Give to those who ask, and don’t turn away from those who want to borrow.
“You have heard the law that says, ‘Love your neighbor’ and hate your enemy. But I say, love your enemies! Pray for those who persecute you! In that way, you will be acting as true children of your Father in heaven. For he gives his sunlight to both the evil and the good, and he sends rain on the just and the unjust alike. If you love only those who love you, what reward is there for that? Even corrupt tax collectors do that much. If you are kind only to your friends, how are you different from anyone else? Even pagans do that. But you are to be perfect, even as your Father in heaven is perfect."
-Matthew 5:17-24, 38-48
I am trained in theology and philosophy, the golden tongue lies of the political norm is an area I try to never stray to far into because I honestly have trouble reconciling the loyalties demanded by a world government with my spiritual convictions.
A government has vested interests and those interests tend to seek preservation over anything as long as it makes its people happy and content. Christianity is not about contentment, if anything it takes ones self assured bubble and rips it to pieces and shoves the ugly truth of the fact that our middle class "utopia" is an anomaly floating on a world of poverty, disease and suffering.
That being said, for reason I do not fully understand, there is a huge contingent of Christians wrapped up in politics and more specifically the Republican party. The two golden calves of this movement tend to focus on gay marriage and abortion while seeming to neglect mostly anything else.
It seems all too easy to simply villainize and demonize those who have no voice in the major Christian circles and simply paint them as being "the enemy" that is stopping the marriage of the cross and eagle into this amazing theocracy that will bring about some mythical golden age of Christendom.
The thing that scares me the most is how that isn't hyperbole or sarcasm, that is the honest view of people and there has never been a marriage of Christianity and government that benefited anyone, it only made for a hollow faith that became an oppressor.
Which is irony in and of itself because Jesus came to set us free from the systems of this world, the shackles of tyranny and the need to divide people up based upon class of sinners.
That is what a politicized view of Christianity does.
The haves and have nots of faith.
We don't want our kids to be around the bad and dirty people...don't sully our churches with those who are gay, got too much color tone in their skin, the convict, the junkies, the doctor performing abortions...you know it is true...because even though we hate and will kill every Nazi, Jesus was the one who hung bleeding on a cross for every broken and self destructive sinner to walk this world.
Love is not a commodity we can use to guilt people into fitting into our niche of Christianity.
Just like how I have issues with the pro-life movement because it seems only concerned with aborted babies but doesn't speak up for those on death row or against the needless stupidity of all war.
Am I better then those Christians?
Do I have something they are missing?
It's not like I am some sort of golden child prodigy who has everything right.
I just feel strongly convicted in my human heart that there is no excuse, no reason, not bearable reason why any blood should be spilled.
Killing someone will never change the past and the final blood sacrifice was paid by the God who dared to come to his creation and forces us to move beyond our blind self serving stagnation.
There is finality in death that cannot be changed by human hands.
Should human hands have the authority to control who lives and who dies?
Can there really be any sort of justice from these imperfect and sinful hands?
Maybe it is silly to want to change the world at all when I can't even deal with my own crap...but I was cursed with the need to write what I see, what I feel, what I think...hope, pray and want to see.
Maybe just asking a question out loud is enough to do something...the hope and prayer I have is that the question will enter you, dear reader, and you will ask why and how...pray and maybe you will take a step, some sort of action.
Sunday, the 10th of October, is the World Day Against the Death Penalty and I think the Christian thing to do is to stop trying to take judgment into our hands and letting an imperfect system take the role of God.
http://www.amnestyusa.org/death-penalty/world-day-against-the-death-penalty-october-10-2010/page.do?id=1721023
The sad thing, is if the atheist and agnostic are right in saying Jesus was nothing more than a great moral teacher, they are at least taking Jesus more serious than any Christian.
For some reason it seems that we Christians don't think Jesus was serious in his sermons, in his life, sacrifice and resurrection. We are great at cherry picking Bible verses (see below) to suit our agenda, our needs and our wants...not letting the Spirit speak to our hearts and give us what we need.
Living in a culture of comfort where we ignore our sins and scream at others for daring to put a toe out of line...who are we fooling? Do you think the God we ignore and turn to only as a last resort will do anything else?
Even as we spit in his face while driving the nail into his hand...the love is there, vibrant and burning with such truth that we will never be able to ignore it, not even in our deepest levels of shame and fear. The beautiful horror is that as much as we resent Jesus for it...we need to be loved, to be forgiven and taken and held in our broken state...and to be taken and turned into something more beautiful than we could ever hope to be on our own.
“Don’t misunderstand why I have come. I did not come to abolish the law of Moses or the writings of the prophets. No, I came to accomplish their purpose. I tell you the truth, until heaven and earth disappear, not even the smallest detail of God’s law will disappear until its purpose is achieved. So if you ignore the least commandment and teach others to do the same, you will be called the least in the Kingdom of Heaven. But anyone who obeys God’s laws and teaches them will be called great in the Kingdom of Heaven.
“But I warn you—unless your righteousness is better than the righteousness of the teachers of religious law and the Pharisees, you will never enter the Kingdom of Heaven!
“You have heard that our ancestors were told, ‘You must not murder. If you commit murder, you are subject to judgment.’ But I say, if you are even angry with someone, you are subject to judgment! If you call someone an idiot, you are in danger of being brought before the court. And if you curse someone, you are in danger of the fires of hell.
“So if you are presenting a sacrifice at the altar in the Temple and you suddenly remember that someone has something against you, leave your sacrifice there at the altar. Go and be reconciled to that person. Then come and offer your sacrifice to God."
** ** ** **
“You have heard the law that says the punishment must match the injury: ‘An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I say, do not resist an evil person! If someone slaps you on the right cheek, offer the other cheek also. If you are sued in court and your shirt is taken from you, give your coat, too. If a soldier demands that you carry his gear for a mile, carry it two miles. Give to those who ask, and don’t turn away from those who want to borrow.
“You have heard the law that says, ‘Love your neighbor’ and hate your enemy. But I say, love your enemies! Pray for those who persecute you! In that way, you will be acting as true children of your Father in heaven. For he gives his sunlight to both the evil and the good, and he sends rain on the just and the unjust alike. If you love only those who love you, what reward is there for that? Even corrupt tax collectors do that much. If you are kind only to your friends, how are you different from anyone else? Even pagans do that. But you are to be perfect, even as your Father in heaven is perfect."
-Matthew 5:17-24, 38-48
Quote of the Day:
“The world is not respectable; it is mortal, tormented, confused, deluded forever; but it is shot through with beauty, with love, with glints of courage and laughter; and in these, the spirit blooms timidly, and struggles to the light amid the thorns.”
-George Santayana
-George Santayana
Friday, October 8, 2010
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Sent to the Dark
Sometimes I feel so stupid for believing.
It's like...how naive and stupid can I be?
I am seeing myself
reflected and refracted
broken apart
and having my soul deconstructed.
I want to nail this pain into the wall
put it on display
showing my shame and hate
just every ounce of myself
you never could know.
I feel so foolish
so stupid.
I wasn't just a child
but one following
hook, line and sinker.
More than just my head
I have a hole in my heart
pumping out life
and filling this suit of lies,
staining it red
with all my regret.
I keep asking for an end
for this soul
to be stripped
and torn from this decaying machine
but you have plans,
such unknowable
and pain giving plans.
Just another chance
another path
where will this go?
Does it matter?
How much does it matter?
It's like...how naive and stupid can I be?
I am seeing myself
reflected and refracted
broken apart
and having my soul deconstructed.
I want to nail this pain into the wall
put it on display
showing my shame and hate
just every ounce of myself
you never could know.
I feel so foolish
so stupid.
I wasn't just a child
but one following
hook, line and sinker.
More than just my head
I have a hole in my heart
pumping out life
and filling this suit of lies,
staining it red
with all my regret.
I keep asking for an end
for this soul
to be stripped
and torn from this decaying machine
but you have plans,
such unknowable
and pain giving plans.
Just another chance
another path
where will this go?
Does it matter?
How much does it matter?
Quote of the Day:
"The writer who emphasizes spiritual values is very likely to take the darkest view of all of what he sees in this country today. For him, the fact that we are the most powerful and wealthiest nation in the world doesn't mean a thing in any positive sense. The sharper the light of faith, the more glaring are apt to be the distortions the writer sees in the life around him... My own feeling is that writers who see by the light of their Christian faith will have, in these times, the sharpest eyes for the grotesque, for the perverse, and for the unacceptable... The novelist with Christian concerns will find in modern life distortions which are repugnant to him, and his problem will be to make these appear as distortions to an audience which is used to seeing them as natural."
-Flannery O'Connor
-Flannery O'Connor
Quote of the Day:
"The truth does not change according to our ability to stomach it."
-Flannery O'Connor
-Flannery O'Connor
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
I really do not like the choices I have to make sometimes.
Withdraw.
Perhaps the worst thing is that having to remove myself and not help hurts more than the physical pain ripping through my stomach right now.
If I don't pull back...and stop trying to help everyone with everything...they won't be able to learn...and I am doing nothing but trying to crucify myself in place of Christ.
I'm not a hero.
I am not a savior of anyone.
I am an organic machine bustling with a spirit, full of sin and strife; never knowing when the past is here and what it is I am just supposed to feel.
"Now this is who we are
I'll never know the answers
And I'll always wonder why
But You have let me start again
I'd rather be called weak
Than die thinking I was strong"
Everything...all of this is fading, passing by so quick...I hear a cry in the back of my mind...I just wish the vision of those last few breaths was not something I saw.
What can a sane mind say to that?
Inevitability?
Peace...even when I do not feel it.
Hope...everlasting in this night.
Love...I will never be alone, never again.
Withdraw.
Perhaps the worst thing is that having to remove myself and not help hurts more than the physical pain ripping through my stomach right now.
If I don't pull back...and stop trying to help everyone with everything...they won't be able to learn...and I am doing nothing but trying to crucify myself in place of Christ.
I'm not a hero.
I am not a savior of anyone.
I am an organic machine bustling with a spirit, full of sin and strife; never knowing when the past is here and what it is I am just supposed to feel.
"Now this is who we are
I'll never know the answers
And I'll always wonder why
But You have let me start again
I'd rather be called weak
Than die thinking I was strong"
Everything...all of this is fading, passing by so quick...I hear a cry in the back of my mind...I just wish the vision of those last few breaths was not something I saw.
What can a sane mind say to that?
Inevitability?
Peace...even when I do not feel it.
Hope...everlasting in this night.
Love...I will never be alone, never again.
...so I feel really stupid in saying this...but I forgot how much I enjoy reading the Bible...I mean not just pleasure reading...but for my soul...there is this...this...intimacy that goes beyond the pages, beyond the historical reality to the infinite nature of a holy and powerful God that is holy and loves us enough to not break that reality of himself.
What makes a friend a friend, a friendship a friendship?
I am rather narcissistic, thank you very much.
On a good day I think I manage to recall that the world doesn't just revolve around me but that there are other people who live on this planet as well.
Occasionally I converse with them or at least sit with them at lunch in the cafeteria.
I have archives.
More archives then I ever knew about.
Emails.
Dear God at the sheer number of emails from when I first got my own personal computer back in 2004.
That has only been six years but it seems like an eternity.
What has happened since then?
I grew a couple of inches, lost a gallbladder and lot of stones, no more wisdom teeth, a couple of girlfriends disguised as leeches were burned off from where they had latched onto me, I lost my grandmother, lost the only dog I ever wanted to have as a pet, I got two BA's and almost a masters, started and quit seminary (although to be fair that was only a few months out of all of this)...God so much more.
Three novel manuscripts.
How many friendships?
Just going through Trillain...hundreds of screen names.
I don't even know the numbers I culled from Yahoo and Msn...plus the other half dozen screen names that I don't even remember the passwords from.
I don't even know why I am writing on here.
What does it matter?
So many emails, so many messages...so much of me bleeding my soul dry...for what?
I could be angry.
I could be really bitter about people who seem to just come and go, take what they need and then pop off but I've done the same thing without even meaning to...things are so royally screwed up with my health and state of mind that I honestly have trouble keeping track of the day I am in...much less whatever month or year it is.
Reading my rather cyclical writings...it is like too much sugar and I can feel it rotting my teeth.
I'm okay.
I am more okay now then I have ever been.
I am feeling just a bit more sick then ever before.
Maybe just a little more upset and sensitive to pain.
Could be I am just sick in the body or maybe sick in the mind.
I could say how much I hate you but what is there to be gained?
I could say I love you but wouldn't actions speak louder?
Do you even know if I am talking to you or do you think I may be talking to someone else with the veiled messages?
There is no code.
There is no hidden messages.
I am tired and really should not be trusted for anything that might be considered important.
I am working on a masters with the general label of religion when the only thing I remotely care about anymore is Jesus, drinking tea and excitement that a new Showbread album is coming out soon.
What is it going to matter if this is archived from now until the systems holding the internet up crashes and falls?
Why does it matter if I work hard to secure a future that isn't there?
I really don't know how much to even bother trusting people...everything is eventual, all the collapse, all the decay, the organic death.
Maybe that black space that is exactly three lines down will say something, speak to your soul...three is a strong and important number in Christianity.
Think of the possibilities.
The Trinity, three days, three nails...three whatever.
I am tired.
Worn out, stretched out thin and wishing I could retire.
I actually know the solution.
However I am not as adept as selective apathy as quite a few people I know.
Stupidly I will not put up a wall to keep people out.
They are eventually going to be the death of me because I am going to either run myself so thin or just keep working until I fall over.
But that is fine...maybe I'll just pass out and get a good nap.
That sounds nice at this point actually.
A nap.
So nice.
On a good day I think I manage to recall that the world doesn't just revolve around me but that there are other people who live on this planet as well.
Occasionally I converse with them or at least sit with them at lunch in the cafeteria.
I have archives.
More archives then I ever knew about.
Emails.
Dear God at the sheer number of emails from when I first got my own personal computer back in 2004.
That has only been six years but it seems like an eternity.
What has happened since then?
I grew a couple of inches, lost a gallbladder and lot of stones, no more wisdom teeth, a couple of girlfriends disguised as leeches were burned off from where they had latched onto me, I lost my grandmother, lost the only dog I ever wanted to have as a pet, I got two BA's and almost a masters, started and quit seminary (although to be fair that was only a few months out of all of this)...God so much more.
Three novel manuscripts.
How many friendships?
Just going through Trillain...hundreds of screen names.
I don't even know the numbers I culled from Yahoo and Msn...plus the other half dozen screen names that I don't even remember the passwords from.
I don't even know why I am writing on here.
What does it matter?
So many emails, so many messages...so much of me bleeding my soul dry...for what?
I could be angry.
I could be really bitter about people who seem to just come and go, take what they need and then pop off but I've done the same thing without even meaning to...things are so royally screwed up with my health and state of mind that I honestly have trouble keeping track of the day I am in...much less whatever month or year it is.
Reading my rather cyclical writings...it is like too much sugar and I can feel it rotting my teeth.
I'm okay.
I am more okay now then I have ever been.
I am feeling just a bit more sick then ever before.
Maybe just a little more upset and sensitive to pain.
Could be I am just sick in the body or maybe sick in the mind.
I could say how much I hate you but what is there to be gained?
I could say I love you but wouldn't actions speak louder?
Do you even know if I am talking to you or do you think I may be talking to someone else with the veiled messages?
There is no code.
There is no hidden messages.
I am tired and really should not be trusted for anything that might be considered important.
I am working on a masters with the general label of religion when the only thing I remotely care about anymore is Jesus, drinking tea and excitement that a new Showbread album is coming out soon.
What is it going to matter if this is archived from now until the systems holding the internet up crashes and falls?
Why does it matter if I work hard to secure a future that isn't there?
I really don't know how much to even bother trusting people...everything is eventual, all the collapse, all the decay, the organic death.
Maybe that black space that is exactly three lines down will say something, speak to your soul...three is a strong and important number in Christianity.
Think of the possibilities.
The Trinity, three days, three nails...three whatever.
I am tired.
Worn out, stretched out thin and wishing I could retire.
I actually know the solution.
However I am not as adept as selective apathy as quite a few people I know.
Stupidly I will not put up a wall to keep people out.
They are eventually going to be the death of me because I am going to either run myself so thin or just keep working until I fall over.
But that is fine...maybe I'll just pass out and get a good nap.
That sounds nice at this point actually.
A nap.
So nice.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Why I am NANOWRIMO'ing and You Should Too!
The temperature is falling, the leaves are turning golden yellow and I need to restock my supplies of cocoa.
There is an amazing spectacle, this magical experience, of epic proportions where the veil separating the worthy and unworthy is torn down...anything seems possible because when you are writing a novel no one can tell you what to do!
Yes, National Novel Writing Month is a mere twenty-seven days away and I am still frantically trying to catch up on homework while turning over ideas for this years book.
Some of you may be sitting at home right now, sipping on your chai latte thinking, "Gee Matthew, isn't it sort of stupid to write yet another manuscript, much less when you have dozens of things to write and the need to start finding a Masters thesis?
Why yes, for those unaware I am that insane.
This is the sort of insanity that comes when all the rules get thrown out the window, the Nazi Grammarians are tranquilized and stashed in a closet and my inner editor is given a copy of James Joyce's "Ulysses" and put up in a kennel for the month.
Why go through a process to put down another manuscript when I have three others that are in such horrid alarming states that I pray no living being reads it before I try to revise them?
It is a legitimate question to ask because I am already having to adjust the next few weeks so just I have things in order for me to slip off to novel land a few hours each day.
Without further ado here are some good reason why I and anyone who can string a sentence together should do NANOWRIMO:
1.For the first twenty-one years of my life (okay so maybe we can't count the first five years of my life) I have always been insanely interested in stories. There are several milestones in my life where I realized that the written word will always be my one and only true intellectual mistress.
It took me until I was twenty-one to fully realize I was in danger of becoming one of those incredibly disillusioned people that are "never weres", in the since they never took the time to write, they never took the time to read, they never took the risk of seeing if they were even capable of writing.
I can think of at least a dozen or so people in my life who should join me in this endeavor because if you do not try you will never succeed. How many English teachers/professors medicate themselves at pubs and go on about this great novel they were never able to write?
Do you know why they never wrote it?
Because they did not take the time!
National Novel Writing Month is the sort of excuse a person needs to say "Screw you self-consciousness! I don't like you and you made my high school years suck so I am not longer going to let you dictate to me who I am and will be!"
2.When you have a million things to do, adding one thing to the list isn't really all that bad.
The goal is to reach 50,000 words in thirty days, which comes out to being a mere 1600ish words a day. You still have to sacrifice free time in order to do this endeavor but what would you be doing? Watching bad reruns of "Seinfeld" and playing Farmvile?
Contrary to popular belief, novels (art in general really) do not pop out out of a parallel world where all the good stories live and Muse brings an artist their story to tell.
Writing a novel is hard but enjoyable work.
It makes your mind focus, bend, sweat and grow so that you can make dialogue and settings that are somewhat believable.
If you want to learn how to play an instrument, to bake a cake or make a guillotine in your backyard for reenacting the Reign of Terror, then you need practice.
3.Exuberant imperfection.
For some incredibly sick and twisted reason (The Fall?) people/me are ashamed of themselves, ashamed of what they like, ashamed to to think that they can do something artistic and enjoy it.
Why did finding joy from the arts become such a taboo?
Every time I try to work on a story outside of NANOWRIMO I always stop several pages in because I loose confidence, I begin to doubt everything and soon there is this fifty foot tall wall separating me from the story.
The only way I have found my way around this is by locking myself into a "write or die!" mode during November and although I have not been able to rewrite any of the first three manuscripts there ARE salvageable parts and after writing about 150,000(+) words of fiction you start to get the handle of what works and doesn't work.
4.Although I agree with Douglas' Adams sentiment about enjoying the "whooshing noise as a deadline flies overhead, one of the most important aspects of NANOWRIMO is that you have a limit to abide by. A time limit forces the brain to go into overdrive and although you end up with a lot of crap, it is intoxicating, beautiful crap that is YOURS.
It doesn't matter how many times I do it, I am never able to finish a project until the night before. There is something about the rush that brings excitement to life...and I just realized how I just described myself as a "Noveling Adrenaline Junkie"... >_< moving on.
5.Everyone has a story.
I will be the first to admit that I only have a rudimentary knowledge of how language works, the parts of speech and whatever a comma splice or whatever a gerund is but that doesn't stop me and should not stop you.
There are always people weeping about how Nanowrimo is destroying the English language, will cause an excessive amount of poorly written manuscripts but ultimately their opinion is just that, an opinion.
Until you let go of this need for "perfection" you will never hear the story in your head...but when you get to a point to where you can tune it out...and it is just you and story, you will be surprised at what you see and how perfectly made we all are to tell stories.
One of the people I miss the most is my grandmother and in the last couple of years before she passed away she mentioned knowing the entire history of Providence (the local church near our house) and those around it. When she passed she took with her a unique perspective that can never be given or know again.
You story may just be one to share with yourself and one or two loved ones...but ultimately there is this sort of intimacy that comes from giving of yourself to the story.
6.When you are jumping off a bridge it is best to bring several people along for mutual moral support and idea bouncing. I have only had limited experience with the idea of writing in a group where people encourage, give ideas, threaten to beat people if they leave or quit and overall the fact people bring baked goods, coffee and tea...but it is something awesome!
What more can I say?
I am the kind of person who loves school, loves learning, love reading and loves to write. There is the romanticist in me that hopes to one day be published, to take the literary world by storm and have enough money to build a Hobbit Hole themed house to live in...but ultimately I am writing for myself first and foremost, the rewrite is where the idea of trying to write to others comes in.
My goal with NANOWRIMO is the same with my poetry and essays...I want to capture a moment of time, something that is fleeting but should be preserved.
How that turns out is yet to be seen.
Oh...and as a bribe if anyone decides to join me and makes an account on their website and they hit 50k words then I'll bake you some brownies as a reward for doing something awesome. ^_^
There is an amazing spectacle, this magical experience, of epic proportions where the veil separating the worthy and unworthy is torn down...anything seems possible because when you are writing a novel no one can tell you what to do!
Yes, National Novel Writing Month is a mere twenty-seven days away and I am still frantically trying to catch up on homework while turning over ideas for this years book.
Some of you may be sitting at home right now, sipping on your chai latte thinking, "Gee Matthew, isn't it sort of stupid to write yet another manuscript, much less when you have dozens of things to write and the need to start finding a Masters thesis?
Why yes, for those unaware I am that insane.
This is the sort of insanity that comes when all the rules get thrown out the window, the Nazi Grammarians are tranquilized and stashed in a closet and my inner editor is given a copy of James Joyce's "Ulysses" and put up in a kennel for the month.
Why go through a process to put down another manuscript when I have three others that are in such horrid alarming states that I pray no living being reads it before I try to revise them?
It is a legitimate question to ask because I am already having to adjust the next few weeks so just I have things in order for me to slip off to novel land a few hours each day.
Without further ado here are some good reason why I and anyone who can string a sentence together should do NANOWRIMO:
1.For the first twenty-one years of my life (okay so maybe we can't count the first five years of my life) I have always been insanely interested in stories. There are several milestones in my life where I realized that the written word will always be my one and only true intellectual mistress.
It took me until I was twenty-one to fully realize I was in danger of becoming one of those incredibly disillusioned people that are "never weres", in the since they never took the time to write, they never took the time to read, they never took the risk of seeing if they were even capable of writing.
I can think of at least a dozen or so people in my life who should join me in this endeavor because if you do not try you will never succeed. How many English teachers/professors medicate themselves at pubs and go on about this great novel they were never able to write?
Do you know why they never wrote it?
Because they did not take the time!
National Novel Writing Month is the sort of excuse a person needs to say "Screw you self-consciousness! I don't like you and you made my high school years suck so I am not longer going to let you dictate to me who I am and will be!"
2.When you have a million things to do, adding one thing to the list isn't really all that bad.
The goal is to reach 50,000 words in thirty days, which comes out to being a mere 1600ish words a day. You still have to sacrifice free time in order to do this endeavor but what would you be doing? Watching bad reruns of "Seinfeld" and playing Farmvile?
Contrary to popular belief, novels (art in general really) do not pop out out of a parallel world where all the good stories live and Muse brings an artist their story to tell.
Writing a novel is hard but enjoyable work.
It makes your mind focus, bend, sweat and grow so that you can make dialogue and settings that are somewhat believable.
If you want to learn how to play an instrument, to bake a cake or make a guillotine in your backyard for reenacting the Reign of Terror, then you need practice.
3.Exuberant imperfection.
For some incredibly sick and twisted reason (The Fall?) people/me are ashamed of themselves, ashamed of what they like, ashamed to to think that they can do something artistic and enjoy it.
Why did finding joy from the arts become such a taboo?
Every time I try to work on a story outside of NANOWRIMO I always stop several pages in because I loose confidence, I begin to doubt everything and soon there is this fifty foot tall wall separating me from the story.
The only way I have found my way around this is by locking myself into a "write or die!" mode during November and although I have not been able to rewrite any of the first three manuscripts there ARE salvageable parts and after writing about 150,000(+) words of fiction you start to get the handle of what works and doesn't work.
4.Although I agree with Douglas' Adams sentiment about enjoying the "whooshing noise as a deadline flies overhead, one of the most important aspects of NANOWRIMO is that you have a limit to abide by. A time limit forces the brain to go into overdrive and although you end up with a lot of crap, it is intoxicating, beautiful crap that is YOURS.
It doesn't matter how many times I do it, I am never able to finish a project until the night before. There is something about the rush that brings excitement to life...and I just realized how I just described myself as a "Noveling Adrenaline Junkie"... >_< moving on.
5.Everyone has a story.
I will be the first to admit that I only have a rudimentary knowledge of how language works, the parts of speech and whatever a comma splice or whatever a gerund is but that doesn't stop me and should not stop you.
There are always people weeping about how Nanowrimo is destroying the English language, will cause an excessive amount of poorly written manuscripts but ultimately their opinion is just that, an opinion.
Until you let go of this need for "perfection" you will never hear the story in your head...but when you get to a point to where you can tune it out...and it is just you and story, you will be surprised at what you see and how perfectly made we all are to tell stories.
One of the people I miss the most is my grandmother and in the last couple of years before she passed away she mentioned knowing the entire history of Providence (the local church near our house) and those around it. When she passed she took with her a unique perspective that can never be given or know again.
You story may just be one to share with yourself and one or two loved ones...but ultimately there is this sort of intimacy that comes from giving of yourself to the story.
6.When you are jumping off a bridge it is best to bring several people along for mutual moral support and idea bouncing. I have only had limited experience with the idea of writing in a group where people encourage, give ideas, threaten to beat people if they leave or quit and overall the fact people bring baked goods, coffee and tea...but it is something awesome!
What more can I say?
I am the kind of person who loves school, loves learning, love reading and loves to write. There is the romanticist in me that hopes to one day be published, to take the literary world by storm and have enough money to build a Hobbit Hole themed house to live in...but ultimately I am writing for myself first and foremost, the rewrite is where the idea of trying to write to others comes in.
My goal with NANOWRIMO is the same with my poetry and essays...I want to capture a moment of time, something that is fleeting but should be preserved.
How that turns out is yet to be seen.
Oh...and as a bribe if anyone decides to join me and makes an account on their website and they hit 50k words then I'll bake you some brownies as a reward for doing something awesome. ^_^
"Head Down" - Nine Inch Nails
Without a doubt that has quickly become one of my favorite NIN songs.
It's almost like it is the idea of almost minimalistic industrial.
This surreal lost of identity in the growing crowds.
Such understated poetry with no resolutions...saying so much and so little at the same time.
"Hey you
What you running from?
All your hate
What you've become
Bet you didn't think
It would happen to you
All used up
Half way through
And this is not my face
And this is not my life
And there is not a single thing here
I can recognize
This is all a dream
And none of you are real
I'll give anything"
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