The Words in Your Head

 “In imagination she sailed over storied seas that wash the distant shining shores of “faëry lands forlorn,” where lost Atlantis and Elysium lie, with the evening star for pilot, to the land of Heart’s Desire. And she was richer in those dreams than in realities; for things seen pass away, but the things that are unseen are eternal.”

I’m quite good at imagining. I always have been. To Anne Shirley, as described above, imagining is dreams, games, and just something wonderful to do. Imagining is a game, and something I enjoy, but it is also stories. It’s one of the many ways I write my stories–there is a flaw to this method however though.

Imagine - NYC

Imagine – NYC (Photo credit: Phillips_Jon)

I’m also quite good at having words flow from my head, making up stories as I walk along the sidewalk, or stare up at the ceiling at twelve in the morning, but when I’m plopped in front of a computer and keyboard, everything flies out of my head. It’s unfortunate and makes me wish for a literally tiny computer—not a iPod touch, but a miniature laptop—I could carry around in my pocket. Maybe the keyboard could even unfold to a normal size.

Also unfortunately, I’m not an inventor. I leave this idea to you, inventors of the world.

No really. Please invent it. I’d love it. Heck, maybe there is even something like that out there.

However, back to point. It’s incredibly hard to get the words out of my head, and on to a screen. I am not sure why. I lose them easily, and maybe I’m even a bit self conscious when typing them out, even though no one is reading them. However I read them, and I squirm, and wonder if they really are all that good.

And we all know one of our worst critics is ourselves.

NaNoWriMo even has a name for this—Your Inner Editor—and instructs you to hand it over to them so they can lock it away for a month.

I’m not even sure if that’s the core issue, my inner Editor. I just have a habit of…not blanking exactly, but something else I can’t quite pinpoint, in front of the computer—I didn’t used to do that as much, so it leads me to believe it perhaps started with my Editor being an annoyance and then promptly turned into a habit.

Does anyone else have this problem? Why? How do you deal with it? I’d love to hear in the comments below!

Anne, And My Love For Her

As a teenage girl, it’s only natural that I should have been exposed to her sometime or another, book or film.

I was introduced to Anne at age eight by the form of a battered thick green book. It had Anne of Green Gables, Anne of Avonlea, and Anne’s House of Dream’s all in it. I was sick, and rather bored. I also had some sort of inner-protest going on that concerned having learned how to read-apparently I thought it was giving in to school to read that big book people said I would enjoy. This also happened when I was seven with Bunnicula(adorable, hilarious book). So sick, and deprived of eating tacos since I felt awful, I turned to Anne.

I loved her. She spoke so quaintly, with all her “Wouldn’t you? “Don’t you think?” and her eyes full of dreams. She had the imagination that I did, playing pretend with imaginary people and talking to trees(well, I’m not sure if I did the latter, but I did think the table was real…?). And she was three years older than me! Surely you can still have your imagination then.

After that I watched her movies, except for the third one as it looked too disappointing. I fell in love with Anne and her kindred spirits. I fell in love with the Island, despite being one of those Yankees Mrs.Lynde disproved of. I think Anne truly made me become a book lover.

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I wanted red hair, and though I’ve (oddly enough) never dressed as Anne for Halloween, I’ve dressed up as a red-head three times. I talked with Anne sometimes, just as she talked with Anne-In-The-Mirror. I watched Road to Avonlea. Every book was gold to me, and I’m currently thrilled at the discovery there is another book ‘The Blythe Quoted’. How did I miss that?

Speaking of Blythes, should I not mention Gilbert? Honestly, I never really fell for him like a good many people seem to. I don’t know why. I certainly rooted for him-he and Anne obviously fit well together, even if he was a bit of a jerk on first meeting. And the actor was handsome, and I do prefer Gil to Darcy. I suppose I do have a bit of fictional book romantic idol thing for him, but I care about Anne a good deal more.

But I love Anne, and I will try to have a L.M Mongtomery concerned quote in all my posts. Majority will be from Anne I imagine.

“I am simply a ‘book drunkard.’ Books have the same irresistible temptation for me that liquor has for its devotee. I cannot withstand them.”

Especially when they are yours, Anne.

The Blank Page

The first post. The feeling of staring at a blank screen that all some writers hate. We stare, and think, and do multiple head-desks as we try to get that first line right.

The first line the will decide if the reader continues to read or not. Or in the case of a unpublished author, if the agent will.

This post feels much like that. Will you continue to read my blog, or will you just click to the next blog you’re browsing through?

 “Yes, I have only a few pages written, but I have it all pretty well thought out. I’ve had such a time to get a suitable plot. None of the plots that suggested themselves suited a girl named AVERIL.”