Living a Strange Life

I'm writing memoirs! I'm afraid of losing fond memories, and I want to be able to look back on the good times, the progress that I've made, and the ways God has guided me. The title of my memoirs? My Strange Life, because that's the best way I can describe it. I was an unusual child, so I had an unusual childhood. There will be stories about fake money, slug monsters, and dinosaurs in the bathtub. You'll hear about the strange things I did as a baby, as a big sister, and as a student. And you can find all these strange memories at the link above.

If you haven't caught the drift of this post, the basic idea is that I love strange things. Don't believe me? Here is a sampling for you of some of my favorite strange things:

1. Doctor Strange

The trippiness. The goatee. The TILDA SWINTON FIGHTING WITH MAGIC FANS FLBRTGPT. While I was not cool with the whitewashing of an Asian character, I was glad that the hero had a female mentor who was well-rounded.

Fighting like my other favorites: Mulan, and the Kiyoshi Warriors.

2. Strange the Dreamer

I'm only a few chapters into this fantasy book, but so far I have not been disappointed. I've always admired Laini Taylor's writing style and imagination, and this story is a great example of both. There are all sorts of strange and fanciful goings-on, so you bet I'm in. Also, the protagonist is a librarian.

The Great Library was no mere place to keep books. It was a walled city for poets and astronomers and every shade of thinker in between.

3. Stranger Things

Stranger Things combines so many strange things that I love: 80's adventure movies, X-Files-esque science fiction, and outcast characters. Also, people apparently think it's strange for women to have no hair and numbers in their names (I'm looking at you, Eleven and the Ancient One). Honestly, though, Stranger Things made me feel scared, excited, and sad all at once, and I can't wait for season 2 this Halloween. Imagine that timing.

How strange.

March Favorites

1. Mayim Bialik's YouTube Channel

I don't actually watch Big Bang Theory, but I first heard of Mayim Bialik because of her work on that show. There was a big hullaballoo about how she was the only member of the cast who actually was a scientist in real life (she has a PhD in Neuroscience), and I read several interviews of her describing her experience as a female Jewish geek. Her YouTube Channel only accentuates how wonderfully unique she is. Check her out here for videos by and about cats, geeks, and feminists. Yes, her naked (hairless) cat is featured prominently.

2. Boss Monster

So much fun. And so many expansion packs. 

Boss Monster is another card game that I tried out this month. The premise just tickles me pink: you play as the monster at the end of a side-scrolling video game (basically, you are Bowser in the castle in Super Mario). You have to play cards to build up your dungeon so that more heroes come to you and more heroes die. Even the box is designed to look like an old-school Nintendo game box.

3. The Nanny

Such joie de vivre!

Shocker! I watched The Nanny a lot when I was growing up, and it remains one of my favorites today. A hilarious, self-possessed female lead who endures being single? I'm in. I'm so in that I've been re-watching all the episodes I have and dreaming about owning the ones I don't have. Also, apparently, I have a theme of awesome Jewish women this month. Go figure.

4. Scamalot Videos

James Veitch, a comedian, responds to spam emails and starts pranking the wannabe thieves. He has a whole stream of funny videos detailing his efforts. Try this one out and then find the rest!

5. 365 Creative Writing Prompts

An old friend posted on Facebook recently that she wanted to put together an online writing group. Lo and behold, I have been looking for an online writing group to join. We've been responding to ThinkWritten's 365 Creative Writing Prompts. I'm posting my entries on my fiction blog, and the prompts are found here. I have been trying to take a horror or magical realism horror spin on each prompt, which is not easy.

6. Ben Byrd Art

They're so cute!

I love Ben Byrd's postcard-sized watercolors. He comes to Salt Lake Comic Con every year, and I book it straight to his booth. I buy the art by the armful and give them away as gifts or use them as decor or bookmarks. Check out his adorable work here.

Plot is super amazingly tremendously important, or is it?

In Ray Bradbury's Zen in the Art of Writing, he describes (among other things) his writing process and writing philosophy. I appreciated his commentary about plot and its relationship with the characters. Many writers will describe themselves as a Pantser or a Plotter: they either write by the seat of their pants without planning ahead, or they prepare a plot to follow before they start page 1. Bradbury seems to be more of a Pantser. I'm an avid Plotter: I have to know where I'm going when I write. Last year, I tried to Pants-write, and it ended poorly for me. The project was awful and uninteresting to me, and I lost track of the things I loved.

However, I believe in Pants-writing while I Plot. When I have thought through main plot points and who the characters are, I listen to those characters about what they would do or how they would respond in certain situations. And I revise as necessary. Heck, I even revise after the plot has been written in stone. That chapter outline is only a guide to keep me going, a reason to wake up and write. But to have a truly authentic plot, I need to bend to the wills of the characters I created. I let go of the logic and embrace the emotions of the story.

"Plot is no more than footprints left in the snow after your characters have run by on their way to incredible destinations.... So, stand aside, forget targets, let the characters, your fingers, body, blood, and heart do."

Ray Bradbury, Zen in the Art of Writing 

February Favorites

1. Star Trek Trexels

This addictive mobile game is just what my Trekkie heart needed. Basically, you are an admiral in charge of staffing a Federation starship. You have to produce resources and spend them on away missions, training officers, and building rooms to make the ship function better. My favorite feature is the ability to add characters from the various Star Trek shows to your ship. My new goal in life is to recreate Voyager within this game. Plus, I play the role of an admiral. Help, I think I've died and gone to Star Trek Heaven.

2. Women and Entrepreneurship

I attended a lecture this month hosted by the Women's Services and Resources office at BYU. Jeanette Bennett, co-founder and editor of several Utah Valley magazines, spoke to us about how her experience as an educated mother drove her to start her own company. She gave us 11 tips on how to succeed and reach our dreams.

• Be positive. See the good.
• Be persistent. "Do the thing or bust!"
• Be passionate. Lose track of time because you love the work you do.
• Be excellent. Be hard to replace.
• Be present wherever you are. Minimize distractions.
• Don't take life too seriously.
• Defy logic if it's right for you. Act on revelation.
• Communicate with kindness.
• Feed your soul.
• Be you!
• Trust the Lord.

I never wanted to start a business before, but now I'm giving it serious thought. This line of thinking brings me to my next favorite...

3. The Oregon Trail Card Game

I love games, clearly. Never have I been so close to winning without actually winning, and that distinction is what I love so much about this game! Gameplay is similar to the computer games of ancient yore, with a few exceptions. There are a few things I would have adapted differently from the original games, which only makes me seriously consider starting a game-making business.

4. Recent Changes to My Calling

Why is this unusual subject one of my February favorites? Because attending the training kind of lit of fire in my brain. I walked away with renewed motivation, clear purpose, and new ideas on how to be a better Temple and Family History missionary. That's right: one of the main changes in my stake is that my committee members are now labeled as missionaries, which is exactly what we are for the dead. I have so many ideas to spread the spirit of Elijah; I'll keep you updated on what works.

5. Asset Enrichment Service

A post showed up on my Facebook feed the other day and it directed me to a service opportunity I had never heard of. A few years ago, the Church put out a call for user submissions of writing, art, and photography. Now that they have received thousands of submissions, the Church needs help tagging these resources for people to easily find and use. Basically, you are given a photo with a title and description, and you get to suggest tags that may apply to the photo. It's incredibly easy and fast, but it's clearly a massive project. Crowdsourcing only works with a crowd, right?

Also, as I took the screenshot for this blog post, I couldn't help myself. I had to tag a few pictures before I returned to blogging. It's a little addicting.

6. Writing Excuses Podcast

Because I spend so much time listening to audiobooks, I rarely listen to podcasts. However, the Writing Excuses podcast is the one I return to again and again. The presenters are concise, funny, honest, and brilliant (though they claim to be "not that smart" at the beginning of every podcast). They give excellent advice and writing prompts. When I'm in a writing slump, I simply listen to a single episode of Writing Excuses, and it rekindles my passion for writing.

January Favorites

1. The new Nanowrimo Goal Trackers!

I'm back in the writing game thanks to this simple feature of the Nanowrimo website that allows me to set a writing goal and track my progress--outside of November! I've wanted this function for years, and I am pleased with its customizable elements. I chose to track my writing hours as I revise (since word count during revision fluctuates significantly), and even though I am currently behind in my hours, I like what I see.

2. An old love, Star Trek: Voyager

I came to the Voyager game way late, but better late than never. As a child, I watched Next Generation occasionally, but I really got the Star Trek spin-offs when I discovered them on Netflix. Voyager is by far my favorite spin-off: a female captain with quirks and flaws, a crew of diverse ethnicities and alien races, a dramatic tale of being lost in space--this show has it all!
2a. Some favorite episodes: Season 3.25 "Worst Case Scenario," Season 2.21 "Deadlock," and Season 4.18 & 4.19 "The Killing Game, Parts 1 and 2"

3. A new love, One Day at a Time

This Netflix sitcom is about family, and I am a sucker for shows about family. I am also a sucker for shows that provide insight into a different demographic. In this case, Cuban-Americans play on center stage, allowing me to consider what I have in common with them and what their unique strengths and struggles are. Plus, Rita Moreno. What more could I want?

4. Community Involvement a la Parks and Rec

I recently finished rewatching Parks and Recreation for the hundredth time (or so), and Leslie Knope always gets me fired up to be more involved in my community. Also, certain current events are getting me fired to be more involved in local government. So, I am now a volunteer at the Orem Public Library. I had to visit the Orem Police Department and City Center for the first time in order to apply for the volunteer position, and it was neat to walk past the City Council chambers and see the Orem seal lit up in a dark room. Anyway, I repair books so that (1) the city can save money on replacing books and (2) the children of my community can read and learn and grow. Plus, I get to be around books more. 5 out of 5 stars, would recommend.

5. Roasted Baby Carrots

I don't like raw carrots. Ever since I was a baby, I have had an odd reaction to something in carrots. It's almost like eating extremely sour food. HOWEVER. I discovered this month that I enjoy roasted baby carrots. It would probably be regular carrots, too, but I am too lazy to chop them up into bite-size chunks. Baby carrots come in smaller quantities and smaller chunks. Just sprinkle some salt, onion powder, and garlic over them and pop them into the oven for about 30 minutes. Delicious!

6. Mary Poppins musical

BYU put on a production of the Mary Poppins musical, which I saw in 2010 on the Broadway tour in Atlanta. I loved it the first time, partly because of the special effects: people and kites fly, and a certain chimney sweep tap dances on the ceiling. I thought BYU would not have the means to incorporate that level of effect, but I was wrong. They did a great job! Also, "Feed the Birds" always makes me cry. Also also, I want to be as confident as Mary Poppins when I grow up. After all, the song "Practically Perfect" is her singing about how perfect she is, "so people say."

Hardwired: A Limping Panther

I have a black laptop named Panther (I name things that I spend time with, okay?). My daddy gave Panther to me for my birthday four years ago when he noticed that my graduate school netbook (named Athena) was slower than a tortoise. I cherished Panther and vowed to jumpstart my writing career with him.

I wrote 15 book drafts with Panther, including four Nanowrimo projects, and not including dozens of other smaller writings. I grew and stretched and failed and learned as a writer with Panther. I discovered who I was as a writer and what it was I liked to write with Panther.

He has lasted twice as long as any other laptop I've owned, but now he limps along. The battery lasts twenty minutes without being plugged into the wall. The screen is smudged and dirty. The keys are worn smooth. But he was still functioning perfectly until one day..."he took a little tumble off the cliff."

He fell off the computer tray onto the hard tile floor. The outer shell cracked a little, but something got jostled inside. Now he gasps for life, running three minutes at a time before freezing up. And I mourn him already. He was my writing partner, my daily companion every November of his life. And now he is just wires and chips that don't work.

Another will have to take his place and finish the work he started. But who?

Stay tuned for Part II

To Rosalie Brooke, a poem

This is the babe born of thunder and spiders,

A rose with hidden thorns.

She’ll sing like a brook as she conquers her dreams,

No vase can keep our rose, it seems,

A babe unafraid of the storms.

And when we need a hero sweet,

We’ll call for the rose with the monkey feet

And she’ll bare her thorns ‘til the world is beat,

The babe of thunder and spiders.

Then she’ll settle back in her ebony hair,

The rose without a vase.

And she’ll laugh and she’ll smile while time grows old,

While her spirit is ever gilt with gold,

While the rest of us give chase.

"Some Herons" by Mary Oliver

Source

A blue preacher flew
toward the swamp,
in slow motion.

On the leafy banks,
an old Chinese poet,
hunched in the white gown of his wings,

was waiting.
The water
was the kind of dark silk

that has silver lines
shot through it
when it is touched by the wind

or is splashed upward,
in a small, quick flower,
by the life beneath it.

The preacher
made his difficult landing,
his skirts up around his knees.

The poet's eyes
flared, just as a poet's eyes
are said to do

when the poet is awakened
from the forest of meditation.
It was summer.

It was only a few moment's past the sun's rising,
which meant that the whole long sweet day
lay before them.

They greeted each other,
rumpling their gowns for an instant,
and then smoothing them.

They entered the water,
and instantly two more herons--
equally as beautiful--

joined them and stood just beneath them
in the black, polished water
where they fished, all day.

Crawling

Fiction - Another Horrific Short Story (from a writing prompt)

            It was dark and cold and the mud rose in the garden as the river rose at the edge of the woods and the rain pelted the side of the house and I checked out the attic window one more time. IT, a twisted creature I had never seen before and which I wished I would never see again, was still crawling through the black sludge that used to give life to Mama’s gourds. I shivered.

            The lamp at my feet flickered, and I tightened the quilt around my shoulders, turning away from the window. Mama would be home soon, I thought. Mama would take care of the thing in the garden, crawling crawling like a slug.

            Only it wasn’t a slug. It was far too big, more the size of the dog that lived next door which would sometimes lick my hand through a hole in the fence.

            Only it wasn’t the dog. From my window up above, I had seen the neighbor bring him inside when the rain started.

            When the wind shifted, and the other side of the house began to get soaked, I checked the garden again. Crawling crawling, this way and that—and then it stopped and raised a swollen head to look up at me peering down through the attic window.

            I scurried back, accidentally knocking over the lamp and extinguishing the flame, and I was crawling crawling to the attic stairs and screaming for Mama but I knew, I knew that Mama wasn’t coming and Mama wasn’t going to take care of the thing in the garden.

            Because Mama was already in the garden, crawling crawling, in the mud.

Blind Date

Fiction - A Horrific Short Story

I have never desecrated Shakespeare before, but I am tempted right now to chuck King Lear at my roommate. She can sense my unspoken desire just by glancing at the bent book and my white knuckles.

"Whoa, Mal," she says, backing through the doorway. "Don't get mad. It's just a blind date."

"I didn't ask to be set up. Again."

"Didn't you, though?" She twists her fingers around a curl of blond hair. "We were up until 3am the other night talking about how much it sucks to be single this time of year."

She is right, but I refuse to acknowledge that. "Carrie, it's October."

"I thought it was a weird choice, too. But to each her own." She spins around and races to her room down the hall. "He's picking you up at 6."

"I can't go!" I shout from the doorway. She has already disappeared into the pink depths that she shares with Kate.

"Yes, you can." Her head reappears. "Remember to be nice. You're his blind date, too."

I retreat to my room and stare at the ugly wallpaper for a few minutes while I fume. This will be the fourth blind date Carrie has set me up on. The fourth time she has done so without my permission.

First, there was Aaron. He was slimy and left trails of grease across the screen of his smartphone, which he did not set down for the entirety of our pizza dinner. Also, he chewed with his mouth open. The date was cut short when I excused myself to throw up in the restaurant bathroom. He took me home shortly thereafter, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on his phone.

Then, there was Jack. Jack didn't speak except to tell me things that were wrong with me. My necklace was crooked. My hair was out of place. My lip curled up on one side. I had a stupid major. I breathed funny. Fortunately, I did one thing right that evening; he didn't complain when I asked to go home.

Last came Kyle. Kyle was Carrie's cousin. Kyle flirted with other girls while we were out. By the end of the night, Kyle still didn't know my name.

Most single women of a certain age have their own list. I know I'm not the only one.

Tired of the yellow wallpaper, I close my bedroom door gently and stare at the pictures hiding on the back side. I stole them all from the internet, but the markings are my own. I drew the red pizza sauce spilling from Aaron's mouth. I drew the horns on Jack's head. I drew the arrows through Kyle's chest. They are just three among hundreds of pictures, hundreds of ill-matched dates. Each picture is unique, but they all have something in common: I have crossed out their eyes with a bright red marker.

You're his blind date, too.

I decide that there is always room for one more picture. I put on my favorite outfit--the navy blue dress and the gray shoes--and tie my hair up in a ballerina bun. It is the same thing I do for every blind date (Jack thought it was boring), but tonight I do something different.

I sit down in front of the mirror and gaze over the familiar flesh of my face. My makeup is so-so, applied quickly as I rushed out to school this morning. Carrie usually suggests that I do smokey eyes for a date, but I will do something shocking tonight. I will do something to end all blind dates. The blind date of all blind dates.

It takes me a while to get it right, but I am satisfied with my work.

The doorbell rings right at 6pm. I fumble around in the dark of our apartment before I finally answer the door. When he sees me, my date screams. He screams and screams. My roommates come running from their hiding spots. They scream, too.

I smile, and my lip curls up on one side. I dab a streak of blood from my cheek. "Do I look that bad? What's wrong?"

No one responds except with more screaming. I think someone is dialing 911--I can't quite tell. I remain at the open door, plastering on my most polite, practiced smile.

"What's wrong?" I repeat. "I'm just a blind date."

I don't think any of these unread dimwits appreciates the way my work references Oedipus and Gloucester. According to literary canon, I have joined the best of tragic company. I am as tragic as I feel.

The screaming does not stop, but I was promised an evening out. Annoyed, I set my gouged and bloodied eyeballs on the kitchen counter and shuffle out the door without them to treat myself to a blind date.

Stumps

My life is like an overgrown orchard.

I try to curate my friendships

To find like-minded spirits

To find bosom friends

To find people like me.

But the trees grow when and where they may,

As people step into my sphere, my orbit,

And the fruit of friends ripens when I least expect it

And it is delicious.

I don’t control my overgrown orchard, but

I do take care of the trees.

But the stumps.

But the stumps.

Where a life was cut short

Before I was ready to let the tree go

Before I was done eating the fruit

And now there are shadows on the orchard floor

Where fruit never ripens and falls

And it’s in those deserts between the trees

That I watch the orchard blossom or rot

That I watch the seasons come and go

And the sun shine through the leaves

In warm golds and cold silvers,

All while I sit on the stump of a friend.

Anger Management Problems

The Flame by Jackson Pollock

My mother has a bookshelf of villains.
Tiny, plastic hands and hooks and tentacles
Extending from wily reds and angry purples,
        And billowing blacks,
The primary colors of being the bad guy.

I suppose that is why I came to her,
Flushed and bruised and screaming,
Just in time for lunch on a Wednesday,
In the middle of the story of that week,
And I raised my head right there in the hospital
To see if the world had heroes to pick on.

Peer Review and the Gospel

In my writing classes, I teach the peer review process. A lot of students are hesitant to get feedback from their peers because the peers are not experts, the peers are not the teacher, the peers are not the ones giving the grade, etc. At the same time, the students are also hesitant to give feedback to their peers for comparable reasons. Regardless of those hesitations, I require peer review.

Why am I so evil?

Peer review is necessary for all writers. Here are a few of the reasons:

1. Peer review fulfills the purpose of writing

We never write into the void; we always write to an audience, and peer review provides an opportunity to test our product on an audience. If we have no audience, why bother to write? Therefore, peer review helps make writing purposeful.

2. Peer review is collaborative and we are dumb

I should clarify: we are dumb individually but smart together. Every writer has strengths and weaknesses. Every writer notices different things. For example, I am good at spotting errors punctuation but I need help spotting inconsistencies in my writing style. Another writer can help me make up the difference. Together, we improve.

3. Peer review is a teacher

Peer review requires humility, trust, and effort. Having someone read and critique your writing is terrifying and sometimes humiliating. We can remove that sting and fear through humility. Peer review teaches us to accept correction and maybe even to be inspired by someone else. Since peer review is usually reciprocal, it also teaches us to work to help someone else be corrected and inspired.

4. Peer review is a gospel principle

We have peer review in the gospel, too. The Lord critiques and corrects and inspires those he loves. Such correction fulfills the purpose of life. We need to improve. Repentance (improvement) allows us to collaborate with the Lord because we can't do it on our own. It teaches us to be humble, to trust the Lord, and to work and serve.

My favorite thing about this comparison is that repentance truly is peer review. The Lord is our partner, our equal, when we engage in the process. He becomes our friend and peer. Let's not be so afraid of peer review. Let's improve with the help of our peer.

A Note from Emily Dickinson

I'm reading a collection of Emily's letters. My mum fears that I will turn into a recluse like Emily did. I know that there is more to Emily than her unusual social manners, so I have undertaken a study of her life. Her letters to friends and family are sweet and honest and hilarious at times. My favorite line so far comes at the end of a lengthy letter written when she was 14 to her childhood friend, Abiah.

 I have looked my letter over, and find I have written nothing worth reading.

And then she sent it anyway.

So, Emily Dickinson was a babbler, and she knew it. I like you better already, Em.

Capture the Morning

...arise early, that your bodies and minds may be invigorated.

Doctrine and Covenants 88:124

I am living a paradox.

In one reality, I am a morning person. I love dawn. I love watching the sky grow lighter, even on a cloudy day. There is something satisfying about the quiet of the ante meridian. It encourages, empowers, and energizes me. I do my best work in the mornings.

In another reality, however, I spend most of my mornings asleep or groggily getting ready in the bathroom. I check Facebook 200 times and rewatch beloved Youtube videos. Rarely do I harness the power of the early day. And then, to kick a woman when she's down, I usually take a nap in the afternoon.

The problem is that these realities overlap. Both exist right now, right here. Without the strict structure of student life, I wander about wondering what to do with my time. Teaching is such a small portion of my week, but it is sufficient to meet my immediate needs. I am rich in time, and without a clear direction for spending that time, I shut down. I sleep.

NO MORE. That's what I say to such bad habits. Instead of dreaming away the best hours of the day, I will capture the morning! I will use those moments to their fullest potential. I am going to invest my time in building a better Toni. Every day will be a little better than the day before. I will look ahead and not be afraid because there will always be the morning.

The morning will be mine.

Capturing such a wild beast won't be easy. I must pay the price--wisely.

...retire to thy bed early, that ye may not be weary...

Doctrine and Covenants 88:124

An earlier morning means an earlier evening if I'm going to do this right. A consistent bedtime routine will prepare me for a good night's rest. My face and teeth will be clean, my jammies will be warm, and my journal will help me reflect on the cares of the day and file them into their appropriate compartments. A prayer of gratitude and pleading always ends my day with the perfect touch. Doesn't that sound pleasant?

When I was attending early morning seminary in high school, I would wake up at 4:30am to shower and do my hair before arriving at seminary at least 10 minutes early. For the entire year before I started seminary, I got up at 4:30am just to practice. My main motivation? This stanza from a Longfellow poem:

The heights by great mean reached and kept

Were not attained by sudden flight,

But they, while their companions slept,

Were toiling upward in the night.

Excerpted from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's "The Ladder of St. Augustine"

So what will I do with my morning hours? Whatever I want! I've already got a list of ideas. Since starting this initiative, I have exercised, studied scriptures, read essays on art, and prepared lesson plans in order to capture the morning. I plan to carve more time for writing, as well, so this blog will reflect that.

"Oh goodness me, look at the time."

I've gone too long. If you want to read more about the benefits of "early to bed, early to rise," check out this great Liahona article from last year.

Oh, and if you are the morning, watch out. I'm coming for you.