The Blog Post That Was Never Written...

I get a new blog post idea at least three times a week. But do I act on them? No. Sadly I get many ideas and then never have the time to type them out. Or, I get an idea and after smiling to myself over what I would say or how I would phrase this thought when all of a sudden I just loose it – both the desire to write out that post and the imagination to do so. I have no clue as to why that is, but tonight I thought that it would be a great idea to write a blog post with ‘excerpts’ of blog posts I could have written…it’ll be like I actually wrote them out completely! Or not….

What Would You Do? So a few weeks ago I became just a wee bit addicted to this television show. The premise is half Candid Camera (anyone remember that one? Or am I too old?) and half news reporting(ish). The show will set up scenarios that all center on the general public having to make a choice of what to do. I must admit it is interesting to watch – because you sit there in your comfy house and you’ve already judged what you would do. And you wait for that one (or ten) person who will actually do what you believe is the right thing. Of course this show mainly centers on trying to get a reaction; many time the show producers will amp the tension by telling their actors to make a bigger scene…

The funny thing is – that sometimes I’m not quite sure that there should actually be a reaction. Many of the more ‘tame’ issues and scenarios are really not that big of a deal. And I do not honestly see society falling into decay over them. But that’s just me.

Venting. Yeah, it’s not pretty. But sometimes it’s needed. Ok, so that last sentence was false.  Venting our problems seems to be quite addicting and contagious. I’ve seen it first hand and how it can just tear apart an otherwise grand time with people. One minute you’re commenting on how the weather sucks and the next thing you know the person in front of you is telling you all that is REALLY wrong with the world. Like their job, their manicure, their car or their life in general. I’ve noticed one alarming trend – or affect that this can have:

The person you vent to now has a sudden urge to vent to someone else. Now, it’s not only the weather that sucks. Work is horrid too. Their nails are chipping. Their car needs work that they can’t afford. And life is just….suckish. I say all of this from experience – it happened to me only everyday this past week. After listening to people list out faults I would drive home in silence. And then give my mum the whole spiel on why life/work/car sucks right now.

Being a writer. It’s awful really. Once you’ve discovered the joy of writing down your thoughts and wistful story plans, not writing is like death. Something is just missing. And sadly this whole writing thing takes time to do; time to think it through, time to type it out, time to get the courage to post or send to an editor.

Suddenly, if you’re not writing – you feel like your entire mind is mush. Blank. Useless. And if you don’t have the time to write….

Although at times I know that I really DO have the time. It’s just being used in different ways right now. Like sleeping, reading, and zoning out after work (normally with my laptop).

*my word, reading this a few hours later I see that I am quite the over dramatic writer when the mood and coffee strike...*

Traveling the world. Why do I get such a strong sense that the few states and countries (France and the UK) are not enough for me? I can feel my feet itching so often now. Even the city seems to call to me.  Sometimes I’m not quite sure if my mother ruined me. I grew up with all of the stories from her about the many places she went to after leaving home at 17. Switzerland, Africa and Nepal are among that many countries that I can see in my mind due to the stories that have been my heritage.

She has ruined me. For now the one week vacation to Paris when I was 16 is no longer enough to satisfy my lust for the new and far away. The glips I saw of London when we went for one day is but a teasing memory.  I honestly have no idea what the travel is supposed to do for me. It’s not like I ‘need’ to go. I could probably become a fairly well rounded person if I just stay in my small town within an hour of the city….but what fun is that? Here I am at 19 a college graduate with a full time job and life is becoming a bit stagnant. I’m thinking an overseas adventure is needed…

And that’s about all from me for now.

Till the next thought takes me captive,

Aithne Someris

p.s. I never re-read this post before publishing it - forgive any typos :)

Just a Little Post About Nothing and Everything

Tonight I sat in the local Starbucks with two newly purchased books in front of me while my left hand held my favorite blue ink pen and scratched across the blank pages of a 'random thought' journal. The grande mocha sat to my right as I alternately read, wrote and sipped. The two books before me were already holding a place on the book shelf at home. But I often feel that when Borders sends a 40% off coupon it is my duty to use it. And so before heading off to Starbucks I made a quick stop and picked up a new version of some books I already owned. Although in my defense – I like these versions better for the quality of the books. These come with soft supple pages and covers that make it easier to sit up half the night in bed reading your eyes out. Which in my opinion is a good thing.

The first book I repurchased was ‘Mansfield Park’ by Jane Austen (don’t even get me started on Ms Austen!). I know that I’ve read it before (most likely ages ago), but I have been in quite an Austen mood for the past month or so: re-reading “Persuasion” (my absolute favorite) and “Pride and Prejudice” (Mr Darcy, anyone??). Although ‘Mansfield’ has never been a favorite I feel that that alone should make me read it again. I always disliked Edmund…to so miss Fanny who was right in front of him for so long! And for Fanny to sit by as he ran after another woman! Although the more you learn about the culture at the time the more the story makes immense sense. And so I have decided that it is time to give Mr Edmund another chance – and another reading.

On the opposite side of the spectrum sits my other book. “Wuthering Heights” by Emily Bronte; such a contrast! With its dark, brooding and at times dubbed satanic ‘hero’ and the willful, selfish and fierce girl he loves to obsession. A wee bit different from Ms Austen, eh? This is a book I love and hate at the same time. I have yet to fully read through the whole thing. I have started ‘Wuthering’ twice only to come to the part of the book when Heathcliff comes back mysteriously rich and begins to take out his revenge on the people of his youth. For some odd reason both times I ended my reading at that moment. I love the early part of the story, but the ending is a bit of a downer.  I once picked up the book and paged to the end just so I could read what happened to them all.  I suppose Heathcliff’s end is not so surprising…. It’s just as dark and mysterious as himself. But now I plan on actually reading the whole thing through – the good – the bad – and the horrid. But I have to say that I love the dark mood of the book at certain times. When I read it it’s like I can feel the wind wiping the trees into a frenzy and rapping against my window. I see the dark moors laid out before me.

I fear I’ve been quite out of ideas for writing in the past three to four months. I’m not quite sure why that is. At times I can begin to see the outline for a story in my head, only to find an hour later that I have dismissed it for some reason or another. Writer’s block perhaps? It’s bad when the only things I can think to write of are my recent book purchases and sitting in Starbucks.

But, in life news: I am still working full time. Which is quite a change from full time school – but I’ve adjusted to it just about completely now. The good thing about working full time is that it has given me a chance to save up for some things I’ve been dreaming about doing for a long time now. The first thing on the list is to travel to Ireland. So I’ve been setting that up for next Spring – I’m pretty excited! Although this trip will be a bit odd for me: I will be going alone and I’ve never really done that for a long trip. Add to that the fact that it’s in a country I’ve never been to and I’m a little nervous! But I’m 99% sure I’ll be fine J.

Until the next time my random thoughts get down on paper,

~Aithne Someris

~ Revival ~

Revival

Like a breath of wind through sturdy trees

With the power to bend, but not break

Like the current of a green stream

That can smooth a stone but not crush a tadpole

Revival comes upon us all

The call, the voice, the urge

To change, to grow, to strengthen

Determination

To pursue with greater passion

To run with longer strides

Awake

Eyes bared to see the world as it is

Not as we wish it was

Like fingers of lightning touching the soul

Revival comes in a moment

A New Beggining

Well, I fear every time I write a new post I am apologizing again for not having done one in quite a while. So, I have decidedly chosen NOT to apologize since I have been one very busy woman! To give you a bit of an up-date: I recently got a full time job which would be why my writing went from a few poems/story lines a week to just about nil. But I have made up my mind that I do not want to leave writing all together, and since I know that I need loads and years of more practice - the best time to start would be now!

Here is a poem hot off my Word program written exactly two minutes ago. It's a very dramatic poem basically about my poor wee clover plant that recently started to die. Thankfully I put it in a newer and bigger pot today and am hoping that all will be well and I shall see more green clovers soon. On that note - Here is "Withered" (a word I do quite enjoy, don't you?)

Withered

Once so full of life, now you break apart in my hands

Crumbling into fragments of what you were

Translucent and pale, without the green blood of life in your cheeks

Crinkling when I reach my fingers to caress your white skin

My heart breaks for the lost glory of your full beauty

Has death claimed the final victory over you?

From my hands I pour life water into your dry mouth

Hold onto it with all that you have

Lifting you, I take you from your confined prison – placing you in a seat of healing

Is that a spark of life I see? Or just a glimpse of what used to be?

This picture above is of my little clover plant in its infancy. But now it has out grown my red coffee cup and I had to go and buy it a larger pot. Hopefully it will survive!

An Up-Date and a Wee Peep at a New Storyline!

Hello All!

It has been quite a while since I last had time to write...and I still don't really have the time. But today I decided to indulge in a day of typing away at some story ideas I've been inspired with in the past month.

As you know from my last post - my main focus these last few weeks has been to put 100% of my efforts into finding a job. This meant that I had goals every week - such as to make 15 contacts a day. Whether that be filling out an application, sending in my resume, or speaking with a company that had an opening; I did my best to fulfill my goal each and every day. As you can see, keeping my current part time job AND trying to get in 15 contacts a day easily ruined any possibility of writing or creating new plots.

But, about a week and a half ago I finally got another part time job which helped greatly in freeing up some time that I had before spent trying to find another job. Unfortunately, this job is part time, so I am now trying my utmost to find a way for these two jobs to work together. 


Anyway, I suppose that that is the long and short of why I have been unable to make time for writing. But I have missed it quite a bit! Today I sat down for about 45 minutes at Starbucks and typed out a rough draft for a new storyline that I have been thinking about pursuing. Just to give you a rough idea about what I would like it to look like: I'm writing a story told from the perspectives of two people - both of whom are Lighthouse Keepers. One is a young female named Jenna who has just lost her father (isn't that original?). The state (South Carolina) has told her that if she wishes it she may take over her fathers job since he never had the time to apprentice another person before his death. The other is a young man, James Granger, who is also the keeper of a lighthouse, this one in Florida. The young man was a good friend of the girls father - they wrote each other for about 5 years. Jenna and James begin writing each other starting after Jenna sends a letter to James letting him know of her fathers passing. 


So far I am still trying to think through the entire storyline, but it felt good to get a wee bit of it on paper. I haven't done much fiction in a while, so please bear with me and keep in mind that not only is this a rough draft, but also that I wrote it in 45 minutes without much of a guide as to where I was going with it. I feel awful that I do not have the time to clean it up and polish it to the sheen I would like before thrusting it before your eyes, but I fear that at the moment that would not be time well spent. So, be kind ;), and let me know what you think!


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                With a glance out the window, Jenna picked up the pen and began to try and write the letter. This letter would be very different from any other she had ever written. Father is dead. Her last living relative was gone. Just like all the rest, he had taken one last breath of life before closing his eyes to the world. 

                It was now one week later and Jenna was the only one left to write to her father’s few friends and tell them all that had passed. He didn’t have many. Being the keeper of a lighthouse was a lonely life. Jenna had been his closest confident, friend and keeper of the house below the light. But Jesse, her father, did have a small circle of friends that he had kept up with over years. There was Ben O’Riley the lighthouse keeper in Maine. Sam Garfield the lighthouse keeper in South Carolina was another man who had been Jesse’s friend ever since they met at the National Convention for Lighthouse Keepers in 1834.  Jenna tapped the pen on the paper; wasn’t there one more? Or right, James Granger in Florida. The lighthouse keeper. Being a lighthouse keeper meant that it was hard to make friends in the outside world. A lighthouse keeper was continuously busy keeping the light going. No one had time to go out into town and meet the boys at the local pub. Which meant that lighthouse keepers did the only thing they could; went to the bi-yearly Lighthouse Keeper Convention and meet up with other lighthouse keepers. After the convention they often wrote to each other for years.

So here sat Jenna, looking at the blank paper before her trying to figure out how to break the news of a death to men all over the country. 

                Dear Sam Garfield,

It is with a heavy heart that I write to you. I know that you and my father – Jesse Mayfield – were great friends for many years. This past week we had an accident here at the lighthouse. As my father was changing the oil in the light his cigar fell from his hands into the oil. This produced a devastating fire that my father was unable to put out. After trying for a few moments to put out the fire father began to descend the stairs to the house for a bucket of water. Unfortunately, he tripped as he was going down and fell from a great height all the way to the bottom of the flight of stairs. He retained great damage to his head, arms, and both legs were broken. I’m afraid he only lasted the night. By early morning’s light he was gone. I would like to thank you for your great friendship to my father and all I ask now if that you send up a prayer for me as it is looking like I will be taking over the lighthouse, as he never had time to train up an apprentice to take over his work here. Please ask the Lord on my behalf to grant me guidance in this new area of life.

In grief with a hope for a better tomorrow,

Jenna Mayfield~

                Three letters did Jenna write so. Signing her name to each with a sigh of heartbreak. Loosing father was devastating. But being charged with the lighthouse by the state was a miracle of utterly gigantic proportions. Not many women worked the lighthouses; only three females that Jenna had ever heard of, and out of that only one remained now still the ruler of the light. The keeper of the light; that was the general title for those charged with retaining a bright yellow beam from the tall instrument of rescue. If the light went out even once you could easily lose your job. And then where would you be? Many men who worked the lighthouses were unable to ever leave unless in the day. Some loved it; the tie that bound them to the lighthouse and the sea. Mainly the sea, that call was often stronger than the call of duty the bound them to the lighthouse.

~~~~~~~~

Ughness....just re-read what I had written after copying it here, and I must say - it needs loads of work! So, sadly I do not have time for that now - but with any luck I will soon have time a plenty to dedicate to this story.

With Craic and much Love, 

~Aithne Someris~