All the Words!

I know I was really naughty and didn't write a single word on this blog the entire month of November and half of December. But I was writing 50,000 words somewhere else--on a Google document that held my novel. And after that was over, I just had to have a break from social media and crap.

Every year, thousands of writers all over the world participate in National Novel Writing Month. The goal is to write a 50,000-word novel during the month of November. That equates to about 1667 words a day, and the end result is novel that's about 100 pages.

I have tried the past two years, but I decided not to finish both years because I was in college and was working 30 hours a week.

This year I have a full time job, but I don't have homework. So I decided that this was going to be the year that I finished.

I wrote every day except one, and it was one of the longest months of my entire life. It was a blast, but it was harder than I ever expected it would be.

I had to give up a lot of things. This blog was one of them. I also didn't write in my journal, or read the book of the month for book group. I barely did house work or laundry and cooked really simple meals. I still found myself staying up late to get my word count in for the day, but I got it done.

I did tweet a lot. Sorry if you follow me and I spammed your feed. It was one way to really get the crazies out when I was really frustrated.

I reached 50,000 words on the last day, at about 9 p.m. The event was pretty anticlimactic  All I wanted to do was just go to bed. And although I got the word count, my novel is not finished. It's close though.


Here are some of the songs that I listened to:







(And like every other Lana del Rey song out there.)



(And like every other Ellie Goulding song out there.)


Anyway, I'm going to write more on here. I'm ready to be back.

Grey Goops

"Grey goop" means a lot of text without anything to break it up. This is a bad thing in the design world. Pictures are wonderful because they are a visual element among all the words. Words are boring things. Pictures are not. Pictures are exciting, and one can digest them quickly.

I like pictures. I'm glad people take pictures. As a designer, I'm so happy pictures exist. I love designing with huge pictures.

But as a writer, and a woman, I sort of hate them.

Sometimes I'll write these long, lovely things, (at least I think they're lovely) and I think about them a lot. I think they're funny. I try to get all the grammar right. I try to be witty and funny and profound.

But when I show the finished product to someone -- whether it's a blog post or a book or a scrapbook page -- I get complemented on the picture or graphic. It's nice to be complemented on anything. But the picture was just there to draw the reader in. I know from a fact my blog posts with pictures get way more views than ones without. I'd just hope that the picture helped the reader actually find interesting content to read.

As a woman, I get fed up with the visual taking over everything. I like getting complemented on the way I look. It's nice to feel beautiful. And often people saying those nice things don't really know me, so the only thing they have to say is about how I look. But how I look isn't what is important about me. Fashion is fun, but it's not my substance. I just feel despair sometimes because I feel that's all anyone cares about. It is all anyone has to say, and I know it's because they have nothing else to say about me so they have to say something about my hair, or my outfit or my shoes. One day soon I'll be really ugly, and I might wear really ugly clothes, and then what? What will people say to me when they have nothing to say? Will they lie? I don't know.

I'd rather be complemented on my writing, or my college degree, or how I'm really hilarious or good at Scrabble or something. Or maybe not complemented at all! I love it when people just listen to me and talk to me about interesting stuff. I like when people read my "grey goop." That is the greatest complement of all.

Because it is hard to feel confident. I'm looking for a job and it is stressful. I'm trying to remain positive and hopeful, but it doesn't help when all everyone seems to talk about to me is just how I look. Because how I look doesn't help me get a job or help me feel important or useful. It's just a nice thing, like dessert. It isn't essential.

I don't even consider myself that pretty. I'm alright with that. I'm glad I have a working body and I'm content with the way I am. Most of the time I'd like to think beauty is irrelevant, but I know deep down that to the world, it's one of the most important things. I don't want to give into that shallowness, but at the same time, I have acknowledged that it's a good thing to dress up and look cute so people notice you. So that maybe, someone will be drawn in and read the grey goop: the interesting stuff that just looks boring.

So this is a test. How many people will read this post despite having no picture? (In the bloggersphere, pictureless posts are almost unheard of.) How many people care about what I think? I know not many, but I find comfort knowing that there are a few people out there, like my family and Sam, who do listen to my opinions, my thoughts, my worries, and my dreams. I think it's alright to talk about things besides muffins, parties, and cute hairdos on blogs. I want to talk about deep things, even if it's not as flashy or fun.

Thanks for reading my grey goop.

-Meg

Three Awkward Sneezes

So, I wrote a book. It is not a novel, it's a collection of my weird creative writing.

I took a creative writing class this semester, and I'm so glad that I did. Creative writing can be as exhausting as it is fun. I'd been wanting to take one for some time, but I just never had room in my schedule. Finally, my last semester, I did.

Part of the creative writing class is making a portfolio or a chapbook. It's a collection of the stuff I wrote for this class and a few other things I decided deserved a few pages.

I printed it using the Marriott Library's Espresso Book Machine, right here on campus. It is extraordinary. You give them your PDF files and in about an hour, you have a book right in your hands, and I can print as many as I want. It was a great senior gift to myself.

-Megan

Just me being random and bananas

Today I felt like I could do anything and everything. It's mostly on account of exercising, I think. I lifted weights and rowed and crunched until my body was trembling and I felt that my middle section was going to collapse. This is good.

The snow was also a blessing, and I slid around just a bit and swore just a bit. I grocery shopped and cooked with Sam and homeworked. (Still working on that, actually.)

I wrote, and then thought of something funny to add after the fact. (I do that every time I write something that I think is clever.)

I'm working on not using parenthetical so much. (Sorry).

OK, there was some happy weirdness for ya'll. Just had to get it out into the cyber world, because that is what I do.

-Meg

Making it up as I go

I am really big into life evaluation. I worry that sometimes I spend more of my life analyzing my time than actually living my life. Anyway, the point is that finals are coming around the corner. That means another crossword puzzle to construct, a few papers and lots of studying to do.

Because I was home for Thanksgiving break, and when I came back I was busy doing stuff with my cousins and Sam, I neglected to go grocery shopping. I will be fine... I have food, but I don't have fresh food, like eggs or milk or bread. [sigh].

So I tried to make muffins, right, like I do every weekend. And I was all, "I can just make up my own recipe... la la la..."

I mean, I did it once before, right?

Um, they are gross. Embarrassing thing is that I gave them to my home teachers before I even tried them myself. And they were nice and they lied and said they were good! When Sam and I ate them, we just could not eat another bite. So now I feel really dumb. And I think I need to stick to recipes that people have actually tested. Maybe I'll try to fix it, but for now, just know that today's Muffin Monday is gross so I am not even going to post the recipe.

And yes, I am aware that I forgot to post about muffins last week. Forgive me. Here it is! This recipe is delicious, and there is more sugar than flour.  They are technically financiers, which is a French Muffin. Oui Oui!

And Sam got to separate the egg whites from the egg yokes. He was very excited about that.

So finals are just around the river bend... and as close as I am to finishing it... I'm giving up NaNoWriMo. I'm 37 thousand words in, and I could still finish...But no. Let's face it, I'd rather be spending time with Sam or doing my homework. Because I'm shamelessly in love and school is important (even though I am seriously lacking motivation).

And I know that writing it here makes it official. And I hate to say that this is the second year in a row that I have come short of 50,000 words. I have done much more than I did last year--I think I got to 17k?--and I have a legitimate story.  I started with nothing and now I have this little plot and a million characters and I love them, and they are their own people.

Ya, lots of psycho madness goin' on right now. Thought I'd just rattle on to the world about muffins and writing and love.

I am going to write more soon. I promise. More scenes from the weekend:

-Meg

Writing, and other strange acts

I actually wrote this a few days ago, but forgot to publish it. So here goes.

As I am writing my novel, and fighting valiantly through the happiness and stress of my life, I have a list of things that I must always remember. I am amazed at how similar those two things are. Perhaps it is a good sign that my novel's character is so similar to me, because she helps me not forget those things which I must not forget. They seem cryptic only because they apply across the spectrum of my existence.

1. I am not the victim.
2. The answer will come.
3. I am fearless.

Today I'm feeling ill, so I'm staying home from class. Although this really isn't making me feel better, because now I'm just stressed about everything I'm missing. I'm trying to use this time to get caught up in all my assignments, but ugh... one day I will done with school!

-Meg

p.s. NaNoWriMo updated. I'm at about 11k words. I would never be able to do it without Sam or Katie. It's far from over but I don't know how I would have even survived this long without their support. I just thought I'd mention that because they are just super cool. 

p.p.s. I came home and a Weeping Angel was in my room, on my compy. Ya, I was terrified, in a happy way.

Creating novels and recipes...

I write what I feel inside of me. So my novel is never going to be turned into a movie, or even a play. It is just my little story, my reckoning with the thoughts in my head. It is my connection with my ancestors. Not my grandma-- not that close. Far, far distant. I'm talking about my ancestors who were hunter-gatherers. And I feel connected with them so I write about it.

It isn't an easy story to explain, and it isn't really about the plot anyway. It's about love, and writing just to write. I love it.

I wrote my own recipe on Sunday, actually. I adapted it from the basic muffin recipe that came in my muffin cook book.  Here it is! (all my muffin pictures are starting to look the same! ahh!)

1 1/2 cup normal white flour
1/2 cup whole wheat flour
2 tsp baking powder
1 or 3/4 cup butter milk (I don't remember how much I put it, so take your pick.)
1/2 cup sugar
1 cup pumpkin puree
1 stick of unsalted butter
1 egg
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp nutmeg
2 1/2 tsp pumpkin pie spice
chocolate chips

I baked it at 350 degrees for about 25 minutes. But check it.

Yes peeps, I made a recipe. I am become domesticated. The world is about to end...! You better believe I'm in love.

-Meg

Happy Sunday

I'm trying to think of something entertaining to say about teaching. This is my first teaching class ever, and now I have to have all these deep thoughts about the art of educating?

What's worse is that my textbook is spending the weekend in Denver before it heads over here. So how do I write a profound 1-page essay without a text book to guide me? Well, I'll just be trying my darndest.

Frauline Maria braids usually help me think better, though. I'm trying those out again today.

-Meg

Scenes from my epic life

I am writing more, and that is bountiful. I am running off my jealousy that I did not get to run the Ragnar relay this year.

But I was clever, and I dragged my whole family up to watch a hand-off in Huntsville. We brought a printed-out list of the funky team names and read them on the way up. When we got to the park, it was early enough in the race course that everyone still looked really happy and healthy. It was an inspiring sight. Now my family is all pumped about getting a team together for next year.

It was my goal to run the Ragnar this year, but I didn't find a team, so I couldn't do it. I am sad about that, but I want to run with my family, and now they're excited because they've captured the vision on how wonderful it can be. Hard, but wonderful.

Watch for my article about Ragnar later.

Between the rain and the sun, life has been pretty epic. Mostly because my family and I have been watching Lord of the Rings Special Double Extended Version on Blue Ray. Well, the dvd on our new Blue Ray player. Man, I can't wait to get the actual Blue Ray disks. It will look so crazy fantastic... We've seen them countless times, but on Blue Ray... my oh my. Orc teeth and hobbit feet in Elven-eye detail is a precious thing to behold.

Take care of yourself.

-Meg

p.s. This be my 200th post. Say "yay!"

Running in the rain

I keep saying I'm not a journalist, but I always find myself behaving like one. I am interning at a paper this summer. The Islander is a kinda-sorta legit paper. A young little thing that everyone is Syracuse reads because it is mailed to them as a community newsletter--no charge.

I cover Track and Field because my sister Lindsey is the bomb.com at that, and my other sister is a up-and-coming freshman star. Lindsey runs the 400-meter and Adriana is liking the 800-meter. I like the meters on my camera.

This weekend is the state championships, which are held at BYU. Today was so rainy and cold. We had an umbrella, but it was useless in the torrents of rain and wind. I actually started crying at one point. There was misery in the humid, cold air, and our clothes were soaked.

I can't even fathom how hard it would be to run in that, and yet so many did.

Eventually, the sun came out, although it was never quite as warm as it could have been. Luckily, my mom and I brought a few extra clothes and blankets that we kept in the car so we could change between events.

We're headed back down tomorrow for the finals! (Today was the trials) I'll probably be donning my U of U hat because it feels really good to wear it down there amongst all that blue. And I hope to see some of my besties that live down in P-town.

And I'm going to take more pictures with an intimidating camera which I am borrowing, so I only sort of know how to use it. And I'm going to interview people, despite my dislike for that. It's going to be great and sunny.

-Meg

p.s. I have exciting news about what ELSE I'll be doing this summer... stay tuned. I can't wait to share! (Unless rapture happens, then I guess it won't matter anyway...)

Oh a day of quiet

There was rain today, and it curtained the doorway. That is why I stayed inside and watched the family come in and out of the water, rushed but happy with their pattern of Monday.

I enjoyed just being me--cozy and comfy. A slight disappointment in a cluttered room, happily obsessing over mindless puzzle games. I wrote a bit, and enjoyed the luxury of not forcing it out of me.

I am glad not every day is this lazy. But oh, how I enjoyed today. And how I loved that when my dad asked me what my plans were tomorrow, I said:

"I'm going to run, maybe. Finish my article, and clean my room."

And he rolled his eyes.

-Meg

Othering, buttoning and gerunding

How did Thursday happen? Where did my Spring Break go?

It went to my super secret origami project, syntax, letter writing, letter reading, facebooking, blogstalking, hairdoing, refining my Pandora "Mumford & Sons" station and other forms of delicious othering. The night is still young. I can still get so much done.

I know I'm totally not a legit blogger. I'm kind of a wannabe cool blogger. And since I have so much homework, I decided to procrastinate by making a button for my blog. The best instructions on how to do this are found {here}. That is what I call amazing technical writing. Easy to follow instructions make my heart glow. Thank you! So easy peasy!

You don't have to take the button. Really, you don't have to. You can wait until I have a published novel and 1,000 followers. But then you could say you followed me before it was cool to follow me... right?

But I remind myself why I blog. It's kind of like a journal, and a way to get my thoughts out. It's mostly for me and my own benefit. Writing has never failed to help me feel better. Ranting, praising, thanking, and in general just figuring out life. Writing is a great way to think.

I have a notebook I carry around with me almost everywhere. Some pages just have grocery lists. Other pages have little poems, or little lost thoughts. I love my little words.

Now for some homeworking!

-Meg

A New Member of the Family

Hey ya'll!

So, you probably all know that I love writing. But sometimes it feels weird to put creative stuff here, so I started another blog for all that stuff.

Holy Whoa is about my whole life, and A Dandelion Smothered Life is for my poems and short story stuff. First entry is the beginning of my NaNoWriMo novel. Probably the only good part of that novella.

Finals are here and I am so excited! I'm doing alright. I have stuff to do and study, but it's all under control, and if I just stay focused a bit longer... I'll be alright!

-Meg

The Morning Comes Early

This is the cover for my novel. This is for you, DaSha! (One of the best cooks I know! If you EVER want a home cooked meal and a great time, she's your girl. She just knows how to bring people together.)

I know, it's a picture of me. But it just fits.

Everything has been fitting lately. Everything's been making sense, and I've stopped worrying and being lame and bitter.

Dear readers, my life just went up a few more notches of amazing.

OK.

I have a poem I have to write. If I wait too long it will disappear.

Good night.

-just little old me(g)

Life: A prime example of reality

No.

I left my notebook in the choir room. It has my name on it, but still... No. No. No NaNoWriMo words today. I'm so far behind.

Today had so many ups and downs.

I found out that one of my friends from high school died on Tuesday. That actually didn't make me as sad as I thought it would though. Don't get me wrong, I still feel sad that he's gone, but he was sick for a long time and was in a lot of pain.

Heavenly Father loves us. We are his children and I'm thankful to know of his gospel.

Good night.

-Megan

My Word Count is Steadily Ascending

Good morning!

It's exactly 12:27 a.m.

You know what that means:

LATE NIGHT POST

Get ready to roll your eyes and bang your head against a palm tree, (or any type of foliage that might be nearby. I do not envy you if you live in Arizona. I hear cacti are beastly to bang up against.)

So despite taking 15 credit hours and working about 25 hours a week, I'm doing NaNoWriMo. That's National Novel Writing Month. It's absolutely crazy. I'm actually feeling quite nervous about not being able to finish, and I worry about my novel being absolute crap. I'm not worried about the homework I'm currently procrastinating.

But the pep talks and message of NaNoWriMo is to worry about quantity, not content. The point is to just get the words out there and you can fix it later. Although I'm trying to adopt that as my monthly mantra, I've found it to be quite difficult to stifle my inner editor.

I am an editor after all. First and foremost, before a writer. I am learning to be a linguist, and linguists do not write 1667 crappy words a day.

But I've taken to reminding myself that because I am an editor, I will be able to salvage the misshapen creature I'm creating. I trust myself to tighten up my word hoarding sentences and make my verbs more concise and my descriptions precise and relevant.

One issue I keep running into is that the verbosity I adopted to rack up my word count carries over into my every day writing. Which is not cool. I like to call myself the queen of concise. I'm notorious for editing a friend's paper and leaving it 100 words short of the word count requirement.

I'm mean. I know.

I do love my main character though. I think she's the only reason why I'm still writing. I took a different approach. I usually try to force my personality onto my MC, because I always assume that it will be easier to write about the person I know best.

Not the case. Caroline is completely the opposite of me, and I like writing about a girl that doesn't like to read or study, is easily distracted, has no patience. (Okay, maybe we do have some similar qualities.)

Caroline sees dead people. I call them dead people, but they're really not dead. It's more complicated than that, but I haven't found an accurate way of explaining it. Caroline's still trying to figure it out, so we'll be figuring it out together.

But I love the narrator even more. He's this omniscient figure, but he interjects with his own commentary and feels sympathy for Caroline. He's in love with her.

And that's where it gets weird. But I'm learning a lot. I love my book, even if I want to hate it.

OK. Now it's 12:41 a.m. I've wasted sufficient time telling you about my uber boring life as a writer.

You deserve a Merit Badge or something.

-M

My Novel has a title, and I am soaking wet.

Despues este escribiendo, tengo un exam del Espanol.

Estoy lluviosa. Muy lluvios, y no tengo un paragua. Soy triste.

--------------------

You're probably wondering how NaNoWriMo is going. Well I'm at 9536 and I have a title.

"The Morning Comes Early."

I don't know exactly what it means, or why it fits my novel, but it somehow does.

I'm in desperate need for character names. Like seriously, anything. Leave your suggestions below.

Now I'm going to battle the sea that's falling down all around us. Wish me luck. My umbrella broke. :(

-Megan

50,000 words... now that's scary

Well, my halloween was rather uneventful.

I was dismayed at the fact that I was unable to dress up as Amelia Earhart because I was preoccupied doing something else.

Carmina Burana.

So instead, I'm dressed as a Monk. I have 1 performance left of Carmina. Heaven save me.

And as if I weren't crazy enough, I'm doing NaNoWriMo. What is that? National Novel Writing Month. Yes, I'm am going to attempt to write 50,000 words in 1 month.

Dear readers, I will not abandon you, I will give you updates on my insanity. I love you all.

Wish me luck. Here we go.

Even now, it's 20 minutes until I can begin. I can hardly wait.

-Megan

If Essays were Babies...

It was one of those days that didn't start at all.

I was still some sort of conscious at 3 a.m. working on my essays, the memories of the evening earlier fuzzy in my memory.

I finally got to my page limit, (barely) sent my essays off to my mother to be edited in a few hours. I crawled into bed and fell into a fitful rest.

I awoke seven hours later to my phone going off. My mom texts me and tells me she's ready to go over my essays with me. They are due today at one.

I stumble upstairs to grab the house phone, because something's wrong with my cell phone's speaker, and whenever I talk in it it sounds really muffled to the person on the other end. Besides, I don't get reception in the basement.

But the power's out.

I stumble back down stairs, put on a bra and some jeans, shove all my school paraphernalia in my back pack. My laptop's battery is almost spent and can't go more than 20 minutes without being plugged in, and besides, I need the internet.

I grab a protein bar and capri-sun and dash over to the library. Even though I try to find a secluded spot (that's near a plug), I'm not totally out of earshot of the other library patrons. I call my mom and she offers suggestions, but whenever I try to respond, she can't hear me. I try yelling as much as I can, but she keeps going, and there a times when I need clarification, or I just need her to slow down so I have chances to fix errors.

It's not working. She can't hear me and I don't dare raise my voice in the library. I'm really tired and when I'm tired I get really emotional and so I start crying. Like full out crying in the library. I hardly care that I look uber pathetic: absolutely no make-up, a disgusting bun, glasses, a t-shirt. And I'm bawling.

I hang up and rush outside. I can yell out there, but I look around for one of those out door plug things and I can't find one. (I swear they're everywhere until you need one!)

Out of necessity I collect myself and call my mom. I can yell and not disrupt people, but my battery has limited juice and the sun is so bright. I try adjusting the brightness, but nothing works. My screen is just too shimmery. I move to the shade. No luck. I put my laptop on the bench and kneel down and lower the screen. I look stupid, but it works for a few minutes.

All the while my mom is telling me stuff I need to fix and stuff she thinks I can add to more safely manage my page-limit. I'm trying to focus and stay calm, but I see the green battery icon rapidly slimming down.

So I hang up again (it sounds rude, but she can barely hear me anyway). I waddle over to the Union as the tower clock strikes 11, only to find that my ordinary floor is undergoing some renovation, of course. I wander around frantically and finally spot a table near a plug! It's right by the men's bathroom, but sacrifice brings forth the blessings of heaven.

I resume my conversation with my mother, and after working for another hour, it's complete! Both of them! You know, writing an essay is kind of like having kids, and I just gave birth two twins. What labor!

I look back and wonder what I could have done better-- the copy editor in my nags that it didn't check enough. I should have read through just one more time. But I can't look back. I can't stop. I'm not out of the woods.

I eat Chinese food to lighten my mood. I'm exhausted, so I catch a shuttle because I'm lazy, even though it's actually shorter to walk... but the driver must be asleep because we don't take off for what feels like forever and so I decide to walk anyway.

The moment I step off the bus it takes off. Wonderful.

At work I'm told it's my last day. I'm happy. I'm sad. I'm confused about how I feel about people there.

This whole day I've had a hope inside me that a letter will be waiting for me-- a triumphant reward for the crazy past few days.

No letter.

But scrabble with one of my best friends! And a party with my beloved family!

(The real party was last night-- my grandparent's 50th anniversary celebration. More on that to come.)

I still have a final to take. One last one.

And then I'm off to the Shakespearean Festival! Rapture in my soul!

[Title here] Megan

Titles I currently have:Titles I would like to have someday:

Obviously I've been thinking a lot about titles. Actually, I'm realizing that this is not a recent topic to have been dwelt upon by me. Take my obsession with names. Hmmm. What things are called is important to me. Everything must have a title, must have a label! And what is mine?

-just little old me(g)