Gathering of the Gods...

I know that last time I posted I was oozing about how excited I am for NaNoWriMo, but there is something else huge looming on the horizon even before November 1st...

http://thehouseontherockjournal.blogspot.com/

Neil Gaiman American Gods Gathering

The House on the Rock has long been known to fans of popular fantasy writer Neil Gaiman. His 2001 novel, American Gods, depicts the World’s Largest Carousel at The House on the Rock as a portal into the mind of Odin, the “All-Father” and a central figure in the story. Over the years, Neil has had to repeatedly explain that The House on the Rock was not a figment of his imagination but really exists; in fact, he "had to tone down [his] description of it and leave things out of the book in order to make it believable." Since the book’s publication, countless fans have visited The House on the Rock to relive the scene.

As announced in Neil's blog, The House on the Rock is planning a special celebration for fans of American Gods. On October 29th and 30th, join Neil Gaiman and other American Gods fans for literary panels, talks, presentations, a limited number of chances to ride the World's Largest Carousel, and a costume party focused on all things American Gods. Watch this space--The House on the Rock's new official event blog--for updates.

Yeah, so it's only the coolest thing ever. The Mister and I bought our tickets back in APRIL. I've been practically salivating over this for months. We've got our hotel booked for Friday and Saturday night, we've got driving directions, I'm working on a new mix CD to commemorate the event, and we're gonna start packing tomorrow night. HOLY CRAP IT'S ALL HAPPENING SO FAST. AGH. THERE'S GONNA BE A COSTUME CONTEST, A SCAVENGER HUNT, AND NEIL GAIMON IS GONNA SIGN MY BOOK YEEEEEEEEE!!! Ooh, I wanna ride the carousel SO BAD. pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease--

*Ahem*

On the subject of the Gathering, I love Neil Gaimon's writing. I own almost all of his books. American Gods is probably my second favorite text ever (after William Gibson's Pattern Recognition). If you haven't read it yet, GO. Get out right now and check it out from a library, buy a copy from the bookstore, whatever. Just go read it. If you enjoy stories about mystery, action, intrigue, strange prophetic dreams, comedy, tragedy, mythology, old gods, new gods, wars, love, grifters, or any and all of the above, then you will enjoy this book. Incredibly interesting and fun characters, an engrossing plotline, and fabulous prose make this one an all-star winner. Seriously.

((Czernobog is my favorite character. Even if it is only because of his awesome name.))

Okay, I'm done gushing. I am just SO PUMPED for this weekend. Not only will it be an incredible experience, but it's the perfect way to rush myself into November. I'll be so electrified from The House on the Rock that my creative juices are gonna spill all over the place. I'll be taking a ZILLION pictures. Those alone will be my muse throughout the coming month. I'm literally making a face like: =D

You can't even imagine that. My face looks exactly like that. Whoa.

We've still got plenty of planning to do (food, what to wear, itinerary, etc...), not to mention the pile of homework I've got shifting unsteadily on the table beside me, PLUS last minute NaNo stuff, so the stress is starting to wear me down. I'm coming down with a cold...but I went out and bought a bunch of vitamins, I'm making an effort to cut back on WoW in order to get enough sleep, and I'm getting James to play therapist in order to keep the stress under control. Nothing will ruin this weekend for me. NOTHING. Dammit.

This Halloween is going to be unforgettable.

November Lurches Nearer...

Normally, I write a first draft on paper before I type these up and post them, but today, I'm flying freehand. Living on the edge! Danger's the name, and blogging's the game.

That would have been so much cooler if you could hear me saying it in my Pacino voice.

Down to business. We are six (count 'em, SIX) days away from November 1st, Day One of NaNoWriMo 2010. I'm so excited, I might wet myself. I will, of course, do my best not to.

Earlier this month NaNo CONSUMED me. I've got pages and pages of research, piles of books checked out from the library, scores of interviews collected mucking about in messy spreadsheets. But suddenly, I've lost steam. Less than a week to go, and I can't bring myself to crack open another text book. I've quite dogging people for firsthand accounts. I haven't even checked my EMAIL. What is wrong with me?

I've got the pre-November jitters. Cold feet. I'm fah-REAKIN' out.

I had such epic plans for this past weekend. I was supposed to have put the finishing touches on my NaNo prep in order to sail into the first week like a hot iron on a bed of butter. Now I'm going to spend this week frantically playing catch up, scrambling to make sure all of the arrangements have been made and I have everything I need.

Honestly, though? This is pretty standard for me. I think I've actually done much better this year compared to past NaNoWriMo's. I actually have a proper outline this time. That in itself is an accomplishment. This panic-panic-panic is par for the course, going by every other time I've done this. It's the darkest hour before the dawn. The calm before the storm. The silence before the very first chord! I already know that I'm going to get myself wound up like a spring and end up having a breakdown October 31st. But as soon as midnight rolls around, everything will suddenly click into place. The gears will start a-churning and soon words will be flying out of me so fast, the room will spin!

You'd think that since I know this, I shouldn't be having palpitations right now.

Anyways, what I'm working my way around to here (in the most round-about way possible) is that I'm gonna need some SERIOUS support next month. I'm talking hovering-over-me-with-a-defibrillator kind of support. Someone needs to be pumping my veins full of tea (none of that decaf stuff, dangit) and someone needs to be kicking the back of my chair every time I start to wander away from the word processor and over to FaceBook. Any takers? Eh, James will be doing most of that for me, but I will need people to meet up with me at coffee shops and tea houses to "socialize" with. And by socialize, I mean sit near while I tik-tak away at the keyboard, occasionally wiping the froth from my mouth.

What I REALLY need, though, REALLY REALLY REALLY NEED is for a lot of people to promise to mock me endlessly if I do not complete my novel this year. Make me weep. Torment me, seriously. I need everyone around me to know that I am committed to finishing this year. That way, if I don't, I can't slink off quietly to the corner to lick my wounds and whimper to myself. Publicizing something like this is the ultimate leverage against myself. Sure, it'll be hard to do 50k words in a month, but it will be harder facing the world if I fail. One of my biggest flaws? Pride. Yes, I know. That's why I'm turning my weakness into a strength, using my pride against me. If I build myself up enough, I'll have no choice but to follow through. Clever, huh?

OH yeaaaaaah. So clever. So good. ohgodi'mgonnadiewhycan'tikeepmymouthshut. Blarghlfargh.

Well, here is my personal NaNoWriMo profile: http://www.nanowrimo.org/eng/user/179661
Click around, check out my stuff. (I've got a little halo over my pic because I donated money to the program! Everyone should do this! Makes the feel-good-feelings flow!)

Under the "Novel Info" tab is a synopsis of my novel-to-be. For those of you too lazy to check out my profile, here is the copypasta:

Synopsis: Thicker Than Water

Lying next to Mike, the coolest guy in her class, Nanette thought she was doing okay. Sure she didn't have a job, or a car, or even passing grades, but she's in with the popular group. Too bad she had to put out to get there, but what's a little bodily fluids in exchange for the attention she has always deserved?

At least, that's what she thought. Until her period never comes. Until she realizes that she's made the biggest mistake ever (which is certainly impressive, considering her less than stellar life decisions up until this point). She's finally proved to everyone that she is just as big of a loser as her parents say. Abandoned by family and friends alike, Nana feels trapped by the creature growing in her belly.

Yet, just as Nana thinks she can cope with a baby, tragedy strikes. Having truly lost it all, she cannot comprehend moving forward. Out of tragedy comes hope, however, in the form of a single mother and her autistic son. Is this Nana's chance to atone for her mistakes?

Is blood really thicker than water, or do the ties that bind have a substance entirely their own? Nanette's struggle to change the life of a young boy trapped in suffering for the better might just be her only chance to save herself...

Pretty spiffy, eh? Well, it's certainly not perfect (I'm not even sure it's a very good description of what I'm planning to write), but it will do until December.

I'm so excited for this. Did I mention that already?

Hmm. I think just writing this post might have rekindled that November-passion a little bit. I might put in a bit more work polishing  up that outline today.

Dabbling

Well, I guess accounting is my muse, because this is the third day in a row that I have been inspired to "blog" during my early class. (Woo, pen and paper.) In the words of my fabulous teacher, "I have a passion for accounting!" But she says it with a Brazilian accent, so it actually sounds pretty sexy. I do enjoy making spreadsheets and organizing accounts, doing adjusting and closing entries, journalizing...

I am a nerd.

Which brings me to my topic today: I'm not a very good nerd.

I like video games, but only a few, specific kinds. I don't have the attention span for D'n'D or other similarly long games. I get bored easily and hate having to work (research, plan, crunch numbers) in order to play. I'm really not social enough for LARPing and I quickly lose interest in post-based roleplays (again, going back to the attention span issue). It has taken me a long time to come to terms with all of this. I've tried for years to get on the level of my "uber-nerd" friends, but it always ends badly.

I've got my fingers in too many pies. (Heh, heh...oh, immaturity.)

I like to do a little bit of everything, rather than committing to just a few hobbies. I dabble, if you will. I enjoy trying new things and learning new skills, but I never progress very far beyond the beginning stages. Starting out is exciting. The daily grind required to get really good is...not. That's why I have many World of Warcraft characters, but none over level 25.

I'm sorry, my nerd-friends. I'm just not really one of you. I've tried. But I'm never going to get farther than the fringes.

The benefit of this, however, is that I have a HUGE variety of friends with whom I share interests. I'm not great at juggling these friends (usually I'll be heavily involved with one group for a few weeks, then I'll switch to something else), but it sure keeps things lively! I love how far my circles of contact extend. I meet so many interesting people this way. It's fun, never boring, and when I get tired of one hobby, I can just pick something else up for a while.

I'll probably never have a bunch of level 80s in WoW. (Who knows if I'll ever even have one!) And I'll never unlock every item in Little Big Planet. And I'll most likely never become a famous guitar player. But I will get to hang out with a lot of really cool people and have a great time dipping my toes in every pool I come across.

I'm just a nerd-of-all-trades.

Recurring Dream - Lessons On Regret

I have this recurring dream. Actually, most of my dreams are recurring. I'm the type to obsess over something; replaying it endlessly in my head, never satisfied with how it turns out. But I digress...

So, I had this dream last night. In this dream, I am just turning 21. I'm out drinking with my friends, getting utterly wasted, but I'm miserable. The more I drink, the more depressed I feel and the more self-loathing I feel (familiar territory, there...). Somehow I manage to get back to my apartment and I pass out on my bed. As I drop on the mattress, my last thoughts are about how many regrets I have and how pathetic my life is.

I wake up (in the dream) and it's 7 years earlier. I'm in my old bed at my mom's house. I FREAK the fuck OUT. Apparently, my mind has leaped backwards in time by 7 years, back to the day after my 14th birthday.

I won't bore you with the dull minutia, but essentially, the plot is that I have to relive high school. Only this time I have the brain of my 21 year old self, all grown up and self-knowledgeable. I get to do things "the right way." I say all of the things I've always wished I had said, I do all of the things I regret never doing. And it feels FAN-TAS-TIC.

Until things start to go wrong. Like the main character in any time-travel story, I start getting cocky. I try to abuse my knowledge of the future. Of course, as soon as I start doing that, events begin to diverge from what I "remember." Everything spirals out of my control and some pretty terrible things end up happening. All because of me.

It's one of those moral-of-the-story type dreams.

My dream-self learns that trying to manipulate people is wrong and that I should have appreciated the way my life turned out the first time. The dream progresses to me graduating, my life completely different from how I meant it to turn out. I'm an emotional wreck. I ruin my chance to meet my (future) fiance, I lose a lot of friends, and the entire course of my future is heading into uncharted territory (resulting in a paralyzing fear). I can't get anything back the way I think they should be and I've become hopelessly lost in sorrow.

I go to sleep on the night of my 18th birthday contemplating suicide and...wake up 21 again. It had all been a dream (within the dream). ((Oooh, how meta!)) My lesson learned, I can now go about enjoying life to the fullest and living free of regrets.

Wow, my subconscious is preachy. Thank goodness not all my dreams are like that. Yuck.

But, my brain has a point. And it is an attitude I do try to maintain. Sure, not everything has gone the way I would have wanted, but every step I've taken has led me to where I am today. Even the steps that seemed like I was wandering aimlessly. Even though I really hate those corny moral-at-the-end stories, I guess I can appreciate that my brain is trying to tell me to ease up on myself. No need to keep kicking myself over "could've-beens." It's just not worth wasting my time on.

Thanks, brain. I love you, too.

Anxiety

Well, this is about the time of year I get in the mood to start blogging again. It’s the urge to write as November nears. Patience is not my strong suite. Obviously. The last two weeks of October are especially difficult. By this time, I’ve got my plot outlined, I’m researching information, I’m setting up my writing space… It’s like putting presents under the Christmas Tree two weeks early and telling the kid that they can’t be opened yet. Torture.

Most of the time, the urge is strongest when it’s the most inappropriate. I’m writing this in my Accounting I class with pen and paper, to be typed up later, for example. The closer I get to November, the less able I am to focus on school. It’s like…my entire High School career. All over again.

But this is quite the double-edged sword.

I am a “good girl.” I feel guilty if I don’t do my very best on everything I should. I feel guilty if I don’t apply myself to my full potential. That’s not to say I always do so, but I do feel guilty for not. And it’s not the itchy-in-the-back-of-my-mind kind of guilty. It’s the sick-to-my-stomach, panic attack inducing, bees-in-my-bones kind of guilty.

Here is a recent example of this phenomenon:
I have a nearly perfect score in my Accounting class. Last week, I took a “mental health” day. I didn’t realize that I was skipping on the day of the chapter test (Friday) until late Sunday night. Instant nausea. I dreaded having to face my teacher come Monday. EVEN THOUGH I knew that at the end of the semester, she is going to throw out the lowest test grade, so missing the test is not going to affect my final grade whatsoever. I was so upset, I never wanted to go back to class ever again. I wanted to curl up and hide for the whole next week! All because of a little guilt over skipping and missing a test (which won’t affect my grade). Seems ridiculous, right? Ah, but that is the nature of my anxiety.

A miniscule amount of stress generalizes to everything associated with the event which caused it. Being worried about being scolded for missing a test turns into AHGAWD I can’t even drive to school without hyperventilating. The act of walking to the building has me shaking so hard that I can’t unzip my jacket. I’m pouring sweat, my heart is pounding, and there’s a rushing in my ears that drowns out every other sound. At this point, if a single person so much as looks at me funny, I’ll probably turn right around and make a mad dash for my car and hunch into the fetal position in the backseat.

AND it escalates. Intellectually, I know I’m being ridiculous and that there is no need for all the dramatics. I can’t control what I feel, though, and my frustration only intensifies the effects. Soon, I’m a quivering pile of jello, about to burst into tears.

This happens roughly 2-3 times a week. Sometimes I can calm down in just a few hours, sometimes it lasts all day. Most of the time, it doesn’t matter whether or not I can calm down, because I have responsibilities to attend to, like my job.

I have coping methods. I have ways to make it through the bad days. But I’m miserable. Sometimes it makes me physically ill. That won’t change the fact that the rest of the world simply won’t stop just because I can’t handle life.

I’ve gotten plenty of advice from people, telling me to “try to ignore it.” Really? REALLY?? If I could just ignore it, don’t you think I WOULD? Yes, I realize that my paranoia of being judged and subsequently rejected by people and “attacked” is baseless and completely unfounded. I KNOW that. Doesn’t make it any more possible to ignore.

Here, why don’t you try this: go get yourself a giant spider. Find the most disgusting looking one, the hairiest, scariest spider you can imagine. Now set it on the back of your neck. Feel it crawling around, poking and itching. IGNORE IT. You’re fine, you know it won’t bite you, you know it can’t do anything to you…

So, how’s that working for ya? Can you ignore it? Or do you feel the undeniable urge to shriek and flail, knocking it away? Now spend the rest of the day like that. Feel like you’re going insane yet? Yeah, that’s what it’s like.

So, don’t tell me to try to ignore it. Or I might just slip a spider under your collar.