On: Class, Working Out, and Plotting

Once again, it's been a while since I posted. Over the past four weeks I've spent far too much time analyzing terrorist activity, studying Al Capone, and realizing that I'll never be a criminal analyst. I'll save that for people who can focus on one thing for longer than the time it takes to eat a cookie.

During that time if anyone had peeked in my windows they would have seen a person living in workout clothes, a messy ponytail, and most likely spots of burp-up on me. I would likely have been sitting on the couch, lap top beside me, Boy Wonder in my lap, feeding him and studying. I might even have been actually typing with one hand.

I wasn't sure I was going to survive, let alone finish the class. It was a close one. Especially when everything was do by one minute to midnight yesterday, and I still had a final counter-terrorism scenario to create as well as a twenty question short answer exam to do.

Luckily, I made it, and I couldn't be happier.

During the crazy last couple of weeks, my only 'relaxation' or 'me time' I took, was the twenty-five minutes a day it took to complete T-25 (and sometimes a shower--don't judge). It helped keep my sanity. I'm seven weeks down with only three more weeks left of the program. I'm not ashamed to admit, I'll miss it when I'm done, but I can always go back. I've also started Shaun T's Hip Hop Abs program (and no, I really don't think I'll ever be able to move like they do. Good thing I keep the curtains closed when I workout.) it's a lot of fun, and will help me reach my post-baby body goals.

I've also spent my quality shower time plotting. I refused to allow terrorist or Al into the shower with me. Instead I've been focusing on the books of essays I've been plotting. I've got some of them done, but I have a feeling they're going to take a different turn than I first imagined, and that's okay.

I hope this Labor Day has found you safe and happy. Best wishes,

R.S.

On: Moments of Growing

Today, the Munchkin got a little bit bigger, a little older. Yes, this happens each and every day, but today was different. Today she moved out of her toddler bed and into a big girl bed. A bright shiny bunk bed with full sized futon as the bottom bed.

She loves it.

The Marine and I realized we had to do this, not only because she is getting taller by the day, but because in a few months we'll be welcoming the newest member of our family. The Belly Munchkin, and he is going to need the toddler bed transformed back into a crib.

Each day brings changes and moments of growing. Not just for the children in our lives, but for us as well. Each day brings the birth of our son that much closer. While it's still several months away, those months will fly by. Taken up with daily life, school, crafts, and living. This pregnancy has already flown by in a way I wasn't prepared for.

Guess I better start preparing. :)

R.S.

On My Personal Time Suck

Today I realized I hadn't posted in almost a month.

A MONTH!

Where have I been all this time?

I'd like to say I've been spending my time on a tropical island with the Marine and all the fruity drinks with umbrellas I could drink, but I can't.

I can't even say I've been working on my next novel or preparing for the Murphy's Law book tour that begins on July 16th.

Don't forget to get your e-book copy where e-books are sold. :)

In all honesty, I've been hard at work on a new path in my life. A path guaranteed to keep me on my toes and in shape. Not to mention get me out of the house and around real people a little more often.

About a month ago I got hired and accepted into an intense lifeguard training program. Now, that might not seem like a lot, because teenagers can do it. You see it all the time. A bunch of summer break minors hanging around pools with lifeguard on their dainty little swimsuits.

Let me just say-- no. Not just no, but Hell no.

They never went through Lifeguard training on a Marine base. They also don't work at a Marine training tank where on a daily basis hundreds of Marines in full combat gear jump into sixteen feet of water. Often times, these Marines can't swim.

I spent two weeks learning not only the basics of lifeguard training, but how to do what those Marines do as well. This included jumping off towers between 10-30 feet above the water. Swimming 1500 meters in full clothes, stripping said clothes off in the water, diving to the bottom of sixteen feet to get those clothes, and putting them back on.

I can also swim with a flack jacket on--and let me just say I'd love never to have to do that again.

During those two weeks I'd spend eight hours a day in the water, come home and pass out. I'm not sure I even spoke words when I got home. Most of the time I was too exhausted to take more than two bites of food before falling face first into bed at 1900.

I took my final test early, in the dark of night when seeing anything in a pool was almost impossible. I also had the added excitement of being dive-bombed by bats while I rescued a guy out of the murky depths of the pool. On a full stomach. Two hours past my bedtime.

It was exhilarating.

The upside: I lost about four inches and five pounds. Everything is a lot more toned than it used to be, and I'm finally sleeping better at night.

I'm still working the same type of hours, and I love it.

Now though, hopefully I'll be able to find my balance (especially since school has started again, and I have four papers to write this month).

I've missed writing and blogging. I've missed checking my Twitter (yeah, I fell off the social networking planet altogether during the past month), and I've missed talking to my best friend. Overall, I'm exhilarated and happy, and I think choosing this path was the best one for me. It's filling a part of me I didn't consciously realize was empty.

It's also giving me tons of ideas for stories.

As if I didn't already have hundreds of those floating around in the Magick Notebook--and on my phone.

What have you guys been doing? I'd love to hear.

R.S.

On Nanowri...No?

On the first of November I decided to throw my writing hat into the ring of Nanowrimo. This was all well and good, but for a few minor problems.

1. I was scheduled to take an accelerated class throughout the month, and by accelerated I mean cramming an entire semester or quarter or term (depending on the schedule structure of most colleges) into a four week period. This includes writing multiple essays, a research paper, four assignments that included approximately one hundred and four question and equaled around fifty-two pages, and three tests. This doesn't include the nearly five hundred pages I had to read during those four short weeks. *twitch twitch*

2. Thanksgiving. This was the first year I've actually been responsible for an all out Turkey Day meal. Plus, my best friend flew in for the dinner so between writing and spending time with her--I chose her. Okay, her and the firemen and paramedics we took food to. 

3. The Marine was on leave, because he's preparing to deploy. Again. He's going to be gone a long time and miss a lot of things during the next...long time. The Munchkin, Niece, and I wanted to spend as much time with him as we could. After doing homework there wasn't much time left.

Needless to say, I did great for the first twenty days of Nanowrimo. Things started to go down hill on the twenty-first day. My brain was no longer focusing, I was getting surly and snarly at everyone, and I was stressing myself out because as much as I'd like to be some kind of super hero--I'm not. I'm just an average woman who needed to spend time with her loved ones and relax after one of the most grueling classes I've been in.

I made a conscious decision on the twenty-first day of November. Nanowrimo was going to have to try again next year. It just wasn't important enough for me. I made my choices, and decided what was most important to me. This year it wasn't Nano. 

This doesn't mean I didn't write. I did. I also tossed around a few other ideas for stories and articles I'd like to publish. Do I respect those people who stuck it out and succeeded in conquering the beast known as National Novel Writing Month? 

Yes.

Do I especially respect the novelist who managed to beat the beast by writing 50k in two weeks?

Hell yes, I tip my writing hat to you, oh great one.

Do I respect myself for the decision?

Most definitely. Though some people might consider it quitting, or losing. I consider it a move done out of intelligence and respect--not only for myself and my family, but out of respect for the characters I'm so lovingly writing about. They deserve better than my stressed out writings. They deserve my passion and focus. 

So, on this last day of November, my official final word count for Nanowrimo is: 30,184.

Though, if I counted the eight page research paper, the fifty-one pages of questions, and the occasional blogs I'm sure I wrote more than the 50k. 

It's all in how you look at it. 

R.S.

On Being Swamped

November is evil.

Between class, holiday preparation, the Marine preparing to deploy again, and Nanowrimo I haven't had time to think. I completely spaced that yesterday was Wednesday until I was finally getting horizontal last night. By that point there was no chance of me writing a blog post.

For the last week I've been eyeballs deep in research on gangs for a research paper that is due tomorrow. I just finally finished is, and I'm more than happy not to think of gangs for the next...oh however long I can get away without thinking about them for. Let's just say there is some pretty scary and gruesome facts involving youth gangs.

Tomorrow is my last day of class, and on this most glorious day I've got not one, but two tests. Yes, that's right I have two tests in the same class. I've also got a hair appointment. :) I'm going to have pretty pink streaks added to my natural strawberry blonde hair. After the month I've had, I deserve this.

As for Nanowrimo, I've done pretty well balancing it all out. I'm a little over half way to their word count goal. I've taken the past two days off because of the worn down feeling of my brain. My allergies have been killing me and have taken their tolls as well. However, I'm not worried. I'm pretty confident that as long as I get back on the 2k daily word count again in the next couple of days I'll finish right on time. I won't be early anymore, but finishing on time will just have to do. :)

How have you been this week? I'd love to hear. Please, let me think of something other than gangs, violence and death (the real-life kind, not the fictional variety).

R.S.

On Making Myself Feel Younger

It seems whenever I finish a course I always feel like I've aged, and not in a more mature, knowledgeable way.

I feel like I've got enough wrinkles to hide third world countries in, and I'm afraid to hug the Munchkin for fear she'll disappear within them.

Now that the life sucking black hole of a course I spent the majority of my life on for the last month is finished I decided I needed a little pick-me-up.

No, I didn't open a bottle of wine, though now that I think about it that sounds like a pretty good idea.

Even this early in the morning.

Instead, I scheduled a day at the spa.

It's rare I trust people with my hair, but my stylist is as much an Angel as her name suggests. My hair is youthful again, and more fitting of the woman I am when I'm not bogged down in analytically heavy colonial reading.

Did I mention I love the random hussy pink and purple streak I have in my otherwise natural strawberry blonde hair?

So now, even though I might feel like this:

I'm actually looking much more like this:

 

What do you do to rejuvenate yourself when you're feeling aged?


R.S.

On Back to Life

As of last night, I'm officially done with my Lit. class.

That means no more long hours of pouring over 'classics' to analyze what they mean.

It also means no more long hours of homework.

At least for a month.

Hopefully, it also means more happy posts here, with less predetermined ones... though I don't know.

I kind of like having set days where I update people, certain days where I post a short story... I kind of just like having a routine.

Is that bad?

I fully plan on relaxing this weekend, and enjoying the knowledge I don't have to do anything more strenuous than...

Well, nothing. :)

What are your plans for the weekend?


R.S.

On Touch Base Tuesday

It's that day again. 

Tuesday.

The Munchkin is at school, the Niece is at work, and the Marine is doing whatever it is he does during the week. 

Me, I'm doing my thing.

The last week was spent working on school work. 

Due this week: 

• Two essays
• One research paper
• Four reply essays to peers
• 300 pages of American Literature reading
• Final Exam

Oh, is that all? 

Pff, nothing to it. 

Who needs to sleep, eat, or shower? 

Interaction with my family? 

What's that?

Like always though, I'll manage. The family will eat, the Munchkin will know without a doubt, I love her, and the work will get done.

I'll mainline water, take chocolate breaks to maintain my sanity, and workout at 5 AM with the Niece to keep my body running.

The Marine will just have to wait for any other attention until I'm not a walking zombie.

What's a few more day, right?

On the writing front:

Have I written anything at all other than school related words?

Not really, no.

I'm going to try to write a few flash fiction pieces, but any real work on my YAWIP or revising of the Contemporary Short will have to wait until after this week.

Not the colors I'd go for...

Such is the life of a college student, mother, wife, aunt, and all around awesome person such as myself.

Maybe I should get a costume...one with a really inspiring cape that will flap when I leap tall buildings in a single bound... I'm thinking black and hussy pink, with knee high stiletto pirate boots. They'll be awesome with my red hair.  

What are your goals and updates?

R.S. 

On Knowing Names

The other day I picked the Munchkin up from school, and one of her teachers came up to speak to me. It turns out that my daughter gave them a reason to smile that day.

In class they wanted to know how many of the students knew what their mothers' and fathers' names were. 

Apparently the Munchkin had no problem telling her teachers what my name was, but when it came to telling them what her Papa's name was she said, with authority, "My Papa's name is, 'Honey'."

Looks like I don't use the Marine's name very often at home. 

Oops. 

Regardless, the teachers thought it was cute, and I have to admit so did I. When I told the Marine about it, he rolled his eyes and said, "Thanks, Babe."

Awww, gotta love what comes out of the mouth of toddlers. 

Do you have a story like this? Something your child or a child you know has said or done that made you smile? I'd love to hear it.

R.S.

On Touch Base Tuesday

I feel like this a lot...

I'll admit it...

I've been a bad little author this month.

Class began the end of August and I've been brain seepage deep in American Literature (oh the joys of Puritan writing--and don't get me started on Columbus' letters).

It hasn't left a whole lot of time for my creative muse to flex her muscles in the fictional worlds I've created. In fact, she's been flexing those muscles in the form of essays and research papers-- I have to write another research paper this week...and I'm not sure what I'm doing it on yet.

Oops.

Even though I haven't sat down and worked on any of my WIP, I've been running them through my brain every few hours, and I've done various kinds of brainstorming--generally while I'm supposed to be absorbing some bone dry literary 'work of art'.

There are approximately two more chapters until the end of the first book in my YA series, and then I need to do a few more revisions on my still untitled contemporary short story.

On top of that there are several other stories simmering in my head--just waiting their turn in the queue.

I've missed working, and look forward to getting back to it in a few weeks.

After my final.

I hope you have a wonderful Tuesday.

What are your goals for the week?

Updates?

R.S.

On the Salem Witch Trials

In the American Lit class I'm currently taking, we had to go to the University of Virginia's Electronic Library's files on the Salem Witch Trials and read through the files. After choosing a case we were supposed to discuss how the legal documents reflected Puritan Ideology. 

This had to be done in 280-350 words. 

I've added some of my own editorializing to the version posted here. 

Of course. 

Case: Sarah Bibber

In Salem, Massachusetts in 1692 those accused of witchcraft were screwed from the first accusation.  There was zero hope for them. The Puritans didn't need actual evidence to try and convict their peers--they simply needed to claim they'd 'seen' or 'heard' the accused do something un-Puritan, and they were convicted.

Reading over the few transcripts there are from Sarah Bibber's 'trial' --a term used loosely when discussing the witch trials, I noticed many of them followed the same accusations. Almost word for word.

"Shee would call him, very bad names, And would have strange fitts when she was crost, and a woman of an unruly turbulent spirit." (John Porter and Lydia Porter vs. Sarah Bibber)

"Very much given to speak bad words and would call her husband bad names & was a woman of a very turbulent unruly spirit." (Jospeh Fowler vs. Sarah Bibber)

"I did observe her to be a woman of an unruly turbulent spirit, And would often
fall into strange fitts: when anything crost her humor." (Richard Walker vs. Sarah Bibber)

Let me just say this. 

It's a damn good thing I wasn't alive during Puritan Massachusetts. I'd have been the first one tried and convicted. 

The trial documents reflect on two known traits of the Puritan way of life. A belief that a woman was supposed to be demure and quiet (no turbulent, unruly spirits allowed there), and the requirement that women honor their husbands (Oh, yeah, that's me. Let me get right on that bandwagon)-- I've really never read much about Puritan wives calling their husbands 'bad names', without them being tied in some way to the witch trials of Salem.

I bet dear Sarah felt great, and was more than justified in calling her DFH bad names, and those other old Puritan biddies who turned her in for it were probably just jealous. You know they were probably thinking the same thing.

In Puritan Massachusetts, God-- and the people who either thought they were worthy enough to speak for him-- was law. The Bible put in black and white the ways the world was supposed to be, and anyone not falling into line with the 'Good Book' was sinning and sinners needed to be punished.

The Puritans just preferred to drown them, burn them, or crush them with rocks.  

In my young adult novel I actually did research on the Salem Witch Trials specifically for their acts of torture-- I mean execution. The crazy dude who inflicts pain on people really enjoyed their ideas as well as those from the Spanish Inquisition.  

Isn't it truly amazing how many people were tortured and killed in history--all in the name of "God"? 

R.S.

Works Cited:  The Salem witchcraft papers, Volume 1 : verbatim transcripts of the legal documents of the Salem witchcraft outbreak of 1692 / edited by Paul Boyer and Stephen Nissenbaum.
Electronic Text Center, University of Virginia Library