The GGA Project -- Day #331 "The Gut"

When my Mom is done with her magazines, she passes them on to me.  There are a number of subscriptions among them, and I only use most of the magazines for cutting out pictures for some future dream board I'll make (more on that later).  But I do read through the O and More magazines front to back, even though the limited time I have to do so may mean reading August's issue in November, as I found myself doing today.


I was reading an entire feature in O Magazine during my lunch today about awaking your intuition.  One of the stories contained therein had exercises meant to give voice to your quieter wisdom, which the story said can sometimes be drowned out by the judgmental and stressed-out, loud voice of so-called reason.  I decided to complete one of these exercises for


Today's New Activity: Vocab Rehab


The person completing this exercise is asked to spend 10 minutes writing down a description of his or her life, then look for all the words that have fearful or negative connotations, determining whether or not those words could be changed to others that were still accurate but less limiting.


I have to say I was not happy in seeing what came out when I set about describing my life.  I was quick to judge myself and to point out all the negative or dissatisfying aspects to what I've got going on.  This surprised and saddened me.  It seemed this exercise would be good for more than just awaking intuition's purposes.


And taking only 10 minutes to change all the negative wording to more positive, hopeful wording (basically to spin the story of my life) was pretty magical.  It's a trick for sure, a slight of hand.  But if it works I say go for it!  The fake it 'til you make it concept did not gain such popularity for naught.


The thing is, this exercise was not about feeling better about your life but about listening to the calmer, more accepting and open-minded voices within you.  And I'm not sure how effective it was toward that second end after just one experience with the exercise.  But in any case I think it was definitely worth my time and I would recommend the article to anyone who has getting (re)connected with his or her intuition on the mind.


I've had the phrase Everything is Illuminated swimming though my mind for a few days now, and I'm looking forward to seeing how the truth of that idea makes itself known to me.


P.S.  On dream boards (a collage composed of images that represent what you'd like to see happen in your life): yesterday, feeling rested after getting an extra hour of sleep, I woke up refreshed and finally ready to compose the dream board I've been gathering images for for almost a year now.  The cool thing was what drove me to want to make a dream board now was the realization that everything I'd put on the dream board I made about the same time last year came to pass in my life!!  I'd made it, put it up in my room, and then pretty much forgotten about it.  A few months back I took the time to really look at the imagines and words I'd pasted to the board and saw that all of those things were now part of how I lived.   Pretty prominent on the board--taking up one whole corner--were images related to getting started writing again.  What a great start this project has given me on that front! :)

The GGA Project -- Day #181 "The Flash"

When I was in the English program at school, I came across a sub-genre of writing called flash fiction.  I don't remember whether or not I was ever asked to write a flash fiction piece for any class, but it was perfect for the readings the English department hosted once or twice a semester.  Up to 20 students could read a piece in a single event without it taking up an entire day.

The idea is to write a story contained in a single page of writing.  I've even seen exercises that ask for pieces of 50 words or fewer.  It may seem that writing a short, short story would be easier than a long one.  You just plop it down on the paper and be on your way.  It's like that awesome book that 75% of the population knows is inside them if they could just get it down on paper, but without all that pesky getting it down on paper business.  One page.  Bam!  You're done.

It's actually pretty difficult.  It forces you to focus on a single scene, but instead of that scene playing into a larger whole, surrounded by and contributing to the overall context, the scene must be self-contained and yet still significant.  You are critically limited in your choice of words and details, so it's a great exercise in editing and--if you're, ahem, prone to wordiness--concision.

Today's New Activity: Timed Fiction Writing Challenge

I haven't thought about flash fiction for some time.  But as I mentioned last week, I'm looking to attend some more open mics and perhaps actually READ something at some point, and the sub-genre seems particularly suited for that sort of thing.

One main challenge is that I haven't written any fiction at all since I took a for-fun writing class a few years ago at De Anza College.  I'm super rusty.  What's more, I decided to time the exercise, which was the new part of the activity.  This was mainly because I had only limited time before I had to pick my bro up from the airport and I wanted to ensure I wouldn't get distracted by Facebook and all the other internet time sucks.

The Challenge: 1 story, 1 page, 45 minutes.

Again, 45 minutes may seem like a decent amount of time in which to produce a single page of writing, but it's the editing that's the difficult part.

I ended up writing a story based on something related to me by a friend a few years back.  I'd told her at the time that it made for a good short story (though not necessarily a great short, short, short story) and I'd considered writing that story at the time.  But I wasn't writing at the time, so today was the day.  I resisted posting it here because I don't think of myself as a fiction writer and it's scary to put stuff out there (!), but in keeping with new things:

"Vacation"

Three days into their vacation, and finally recovered from Illinois-to-Hawaii jet lag, Lia was ready to do the sightseeing thing.  She was ready to delve into all the activities she and Amber had ogled in the flier that got them interested in this vacation in the first place.

She may as well have been a hundred thousand miles from home—her first home in the suburbs of Addis Ababa.  That was how far she felt, mentally, from the idea that she was actually here.  Actually in the paradise she’d heard of in her youth.  Actually on vacation with her girlfriend, her fiance to be precise…a real life woman, out here in public where all could see.

They walked from the beachside hut they’d rented to a larger hut midway down the beach from the ocean, where a retired former tech manager from California had set up shop renting snorkels and flippers and wakeboards.

“What do you wanna try first,” she asked Amber.

“I don’t know hon.  I guess the snorkeling seems pretty cool.”

“We should rent one of those waterproof cameras, you know…so my family will believe me when I tell them about this.”

“Yeah,” said Amber, “we probably should.”

*** 

 When the women were both flippered up and their bodies acclimated to the water, Lia took Amber by the hand, looked at her and smiled as they set out together skimming the surface of the water.

Lia was clumsy at first, struggling to swim smoothly and quickly enough to keep the snorkel’s air hole above water.  At first she remained close to Amber’s side, but it wasn’t long before Amber, a former high school swimmer, was off and out of her underwater sight.

Lia stood up and took her mask off and watched as Amber glided off, further and further out into the water.  It was 25 minutes before she returned to the shallows where Lia was now sitting, scooping the slushy sand up and letting it drift back down.  She swam up, took off her mask with a shake of her short pixie hair and said, “Oof.  Great idea hon.  That was amazing.”

“Why’d you swim off so fast?” Lia asked.

“Oh,” said Amber with genuine surprise at the question.  “I saw a really beautiful school of fish and I wanted to follow them.  I got some great pictures too.  Can’t wait to show ‘em to you!”

Lia thought of the pictures she’d had in mind to take, of each of them posing in front of rock formations, of the two of them smiling together, underwater.   As quickly and as clearly and as sadly as any a thought had ever come to her mind, Lia was suddenly sure that this would never, ever work out.

The story was 459 words long and fit onto one page (once I'd done some minor margin editing).  In the end I believe I stumbled into one of fiction writing's worst blunders...the tell-don't-show maneuver.  The idea in writing good fiction (I'm told) is to let the story speak for itself in details and actions.  You don't wanna beat your readers over the head with a lesson or a moral of the story; if the story is told well enough they will ideally arrive at conclusions on their own.

That, for me, is the biggest challenge in flash fiction.  You have to communicate that there was a point to telling the story without saying "and here, dear reader, is the point of the story:"

Still, it was a fun exercise and it felt good to do any sort of writing outside of my daily blogging, which sometimes devolves into blaaaahging. And it made me think of hosting a flash fiction reading event.  They often have themes but I'd start easy and make it a free-for-all.  Be on the lookout for the Facebook event ;)

The GGA Project -- Day #98 "Never Hurts to Ask"

Eight or nine years ago I was working at Barnes and Noble when I recognized the customer I was ringing up as a columnist from the local newspaper (a rendered drawing of his portrait always accompanied the byline--not a bad rendition, either, if I could recognize him in person).  To be sure, I asked him near the end of the transaction:  "Are you Joe Rodriguez?"

"Yes," he said.

"I love your column," I said, "you're always right."

Wow.  I think I didn't even realize at the time what a big compliment that is to a writer.  Not only was he recognized, he was told that he was always right.

At the time I was already interested in writing, and I'd begun to think about pursuing some kind of writing as a career.  When I was visiting my parents a few weeks later, I mentioned having run into this columnist, and my parents suggested I contact him and ask him to mentor me.

'What?!' I thought.  'Who does that?!  Who would just do that...just randomly contact a stranger--a busy, columnist stranger at that--and just ask him for his time?'

They convinced me though.  And I did.  I e-mailed him and asked if he remembered an employee at Barnes and Noble telling him he was always right.  Hmm, turns out people don't really forget that kind of thing.  He agreed to meet me at the offices of the San Jose Mercury News and he asked me to send him some of my writing in advance of our meeting (I was already blogging back then, so I sent him a sampling of those posts).

When I got there that afternoon, he gave me a tour, introduced me to a bunch of the paper's employees, then discussed my writing with me over lunch at a nearby taqueria.

I wish I'd known then how valuable that opportunity was.  I wish I'd appreciated his time in the way I should have and been conscientious enough to keep in touch with him and embark on a bona fide mentoring.  But although I kind of squandered that opportunity, I did learn something important from the experience, which was that it never hurts to ask.  It doesn't hurt a bit to ask for something, even something you don't think you have a chance of receiving.  Seriously, what a waste of time this life would be if we didn't set out to snag every single opportunity out there!  And you just never know when somebody will be able and willing to help you, or in what way.

I forgot that truth until recently.

Today's New Activity: Asking for Corporate Sponsorship

There's a project I've recently become interested in.  And the project would go a whole lot smoother if I had some help--some financial help--in executing it.  Today I logged onto the website of a major corporation, one that I thought just might take an interest in the project, and just asked them for their money.  Just like that.  I said, "You have a lot of money.  You should share some of it with me."  Except I said it slightly more eloquently than that.

I have no idea what my chances are in getting this donation/sponsorship.  There was actually a specific section on the company's website just for donation solicitations, so I imagine they must receive a great many such requests.  But anyway I asked.

And I think I should keep asking for all the things I want in my life.

And I think you should, too.


Thank you in advance, for all the good things yet to come...

The GGA Project -- Day #89 "Career Moves"

It seems there is a lot of buzz going around in my immediate surroundings about jobs/careers.  I have several friends who have recently graduated from programs and who are on the hunt for jobs in their fields.  A great many more have recently quit or are fixing to quit the jobs they hate(d), and some, like me, are just trying to figure a way to make money doing what they love instead of simply what they managed to get hired to do.


I think about this subject almost every day.  Almost every day I am haunted by the idea that what I do to earn money is so many miles away from what brings me joy or any sense of satisfaction.  Nor does it pay very well (except for the decent benefits package).  Were it not for the fact that I do happen to love working with the public, my job would be a complete bust.


I have always said that I don't believe any job is shameful or beneath me.  I would do anything it took to support myself and, now, my son.  But I also don't like the idea of waste, of any kind of waste.  And I think that working at a job that does not challenge, excite, or even mildly interest the job-holder is a very unfortunate waste of talent and potential.


When I first graduated from college, I had every intention of working, somehow, in a way that related to writing.  The problem was that I didn't have any experience and couldn't afford to take an unpaid or stipend-offering internship.  It wasn't long into the reality of paying my bills without any kind of student loan safety net that I began to feel that that ship had sailed, and I quickly gave up any efforts toward finding a job doing what I loved; at that point I just wanted to do whatever would pay enough to keep the Discover card payment collectors off my back.


Today I awoke with the memory of last night's old friends and new acquaintances--all of whom are my age or younger and working in challenging, interesting careers--in my mind, and it gave me a renewed sense of job-related hope.


Today's New Activity: Getting Back on (Job-Related) Track


As if to push me over the edge just a little bit more, my best gal Kelsi informed me that she gave her two weeks' notice at her own job and is now officially off to begin building her private practice as a Marriage and Family Therapist.  I think that's a very courageous leap, and knowing that she's out there, doing her thing and taking that leap, was just the little extra motivation I needed.


My Mom and Dad were talking to me about a concept related to dream fulfillment a few months back.  They said that when you are looking make your wishes and hopes a reality, you should consider each step you take, first asking yourself whether taking that step gets you closer to or further away from your desired destination.  It's a very simple concept but I find it profound.


I know something has changed in me recently because I don't allow myself to entertain very long the notion of taking jobs I know won't edify or fulfill me.  I never used to give that kind of pause.  The old me would have taken another job in retail management by now, just to kind of keep at bay the feeling of discomfort that arises when I acknowledge that I'm not doing what I'm supposed to be doing....at least if I went into some of the management opportunities I know are possibilities, I would be making decent money while not doing it.


I don't want to live like that anymore.  I don't want to take one single more crappy job.  Today I began taking the first baby steps toward reawakening the feeling I had when I just *knew* doing something related to writing was my (and I hate to get all Rachel Berry from Glee (though honestly her determination is inspiring)) destiny.


CraigslistMonsterHotJobsetcetc recruiters beware.  *You're* about to get spammed this time around.

You Look Familiar...

I’ve recently discovered the thing that is one thing worse than missing somebody you love.  It’s when the somebody you’re missing is yourself.  And freaky: not even realizing you miss yourself until something—some tiny little glimpse of your former self—peeks through.

For me, one such tiny little something was hearing myself laugh too hard to finish my sentence on a recent, mini road trip with my Mom, Aunt, and 9-month-old baby boy.  We were headed to Arizona—my old stomping grounds—to visit my cousin for her son’s first birthday.  I really can’t believe it to tell it…that me, a person who used to laugh that hard on a semi-daily basis, could not remember the last time it’d happened.

Laughing is just one thing.  It’s just one of many things I used to do often and, for reasons I don’t care to get into here, no longer do much of.  What the hell is that?  How can that happen to a person?  I know now how, and knowing how will help me prevent it from ever happening again.  Like that quote from Maya Angelou goes:  “I did then what I knew how to do.  Now that I know better, I do better.”

And on that note, I am picking up where I left off 3 ½ years ago and beginning to write again.  When I laid my last blog down to sleep back then, I wrote some bologna thing about quitting blogging for the sake of taking up more serious writing efforts.  That would be noble and interesting, if it were true.  But unfortunately it was not.  (Oh, and now—with that admission—I’ve just rendered the narrator unreliable for all future writings…hmmm.)

I really stopped writing my blog because it was easier than the task of remaining true to myself, for the time being.  I’m not trying to be nebulous here, but again I am reluctant to get into the details just yet.  The details are not important anyway (though that is the LAST time you’ll read that from me, especially if we’re talking about writing.  Of course, the details are EVERYthing where storytelling is concerned.  But this is less of a story and more of an introduction, and since few people ever read the introduction anyway, and even those who do figure the shorter the better (let’s get to the real meat!), the fewer details the better).

All by way of saying, welcome to Starts With One, my new blog.  The title was inspired by a video my mom came across when showing kids song videos to my son one day (see video above, right).  I fell in love with this little ditty because 1) the little birdie’s eyes remind me of my son, and 2) what a wonderful message!  “One thousand steps starts with one, you’ve gotta learn to walk before you run.”  That’s how I feel about my road back to reclaiming the person I used to know and used to like.  Writing is a big part of that person, so it’s the first thing I’ve decided to pick back up.

And I am way, way out of practice.  But here it goes: my first step of a thousand, of maybe more. 

Thank you for joining me on the outset of this journey.


P.S.  I saw this quote on my friend Nicole's blog, and it didn't just speak...it sang to me: "There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and will be lost."  ~Martha Graham