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The sun is just about to set and I'm watching Glee, good evening.
Lately I've been reading a lot about writing/writers, and when I'm not I've been reading sucky YA books that make me think, I could write that--couldn't I? All of my research has led me to the conclusion that I desperately need an outline!
So, boring stuff aside and even more boring stuff to come, I've started an outline. My first ever. So far my book sounds an awful lot like a load of other books that I've read or heard about. It's currently about a girl, Sam, whose family moves back to her home town of Deception Bay--a sweet little fishing village and favorite among ghost hunters and horror fanatics due to the tragic story of a young woman who threw herself into the ocean after she was deceived (hence Deception) into thinking that her beloved fiance had died at sea. The woman threw herself off, legend goes, of the cliffs right outside Sam's house, and every year, despite government attempts to quash the freaky ritual, hundreds of people come to Deception Bay for a final hurrah before killing themselves.
Talk about a weird neighborhood.
Growing up with so much death, Sam is a quiet but surprisingly normal teenager. Her mother, on the other hand, suffered many psychotic episodes while they lived in Deception Bay after seeing a man throw himself off of the cliffs through her kitchen window. Every time she saw something that reminded her of that morbid time, the whole family had to pick up and move--sometimes to to a new city or even province--lest Sam's mother totally break down. To be honest, Sam isn't totally surprised when her mom takes off in the middle of the night. Strange reports of her mothers death, however, take her totally by surprise--she was always so full of life.
Sam's father, always the level headed half of the pair, decided to do the unthinkable and move everyone back to where he grew up--Deception Bay. Sam makes friends with Lola, a hopeless romantic who caught her fiance cheating and came to Deception Bay to kill herself, just like they say in all the really twisted guidebooks. Their unlikely friendship, not to mention Sam's new friend friend, a boy who has no name and no background, as of yet, will bring a new life to Deception Bay and reveal the truth about the legend and the location of Sam's mom.
OOOOH, CHEESE!
Yup, it sounds kind of lame. And guess what--I've only just started on my outline so, while I have a good idea of the story (or at least what I've written in my sucky synopsis above), in my outline, Sam hasn't even arrived in DB. I'm so painfully behind. That, and I've got another story bubbling around in my head about a camp for kids allergic to sunlight and Marianne who has to accompany her allergic brother to the camp town, virtually abandoned in the 'D ("Short for Daylight but you'd never know it from how all the kids here talk about it with such disgust--no, not disgust. Fear.") Yeah, poorly worded sentence, but it's pretty rough and hey, I'm full of those.
That's what I've got for tonight! Enjoy and, if you wouldn't mind, please don't steal my ideas. I know they're not very original or very worthy or theft, but they make me happy and I want to write them. Not saying I won't end up quitting half way through (half way through the OUTLINE, that is!), just saying I might enjoy it just a tiny bit.
Luck and love with all your various projects, including life.
Erika
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Monday, May 17, 2010
a canadian in cuba I
Day One: May 1, 2010
on my way;
This is morning, that's when I spend the most time thinking 'bout what I've given up. That’s a Jack’s Mannequin quote, I think. We’re leaving soon, first to buy medicine for all my various maladies and then to plop me on a bus, headed south of everything I know. Way to be melodramatic, yeah, I know. It’s my mom’s birthday and I feel bad for leaving her. We’re going to Cuba! But I’m scared.There’s that gnawing feeling in my gut, like, I want to do this, but also like, do you want to do this? I’m having trouble living in the moment, but I’m ready (that’s another Jack’s Mannequin song, by the way. I was listening to them this morning and clearly it stuck).
Hugged mom and dad goodbye. I’m sitting with Shenise at the very back, hope no one has to use the bathroom >.< style="font-weight: bold;">
In Smithers;
Checked the time at 11:11 am so now the day is looking up. We stopped at Timmy’s and the line up for the girls’ washroom was so long. I felt like some kind of low-IQ livestock being herded along.
The scenery of Terrace (and yes, looking back on this paragraph, at the time I was totally like, Science! Do it now! Conspicuous? Not at all), mountains whose white peaks scrape the sky, trees that stretch on in a haze of bright, young, spring green, and the river. Mighty rapids, murky water. It’s all here and we all take it for granted.
We pass fields with cows grazing. The back of Angie’s chair is scraping my knees. There are a few gasps as we lurch around a corner at full speed in our oversized Terrace Junior Hockey bus.
“I hate this town,” Time says, two rows up, munching on some hurriedly ordered Tim Horton’s food. My brother was born in Smithers, and I feel like it holds some significance for me—but it doesn’t, not really. My history does not lie here. But today, everyday, going to Cuba and beyond I am forging my own history.
I love this town.
In Prince George—dans l’hôtel;
So, the bus ride pretty much went on and I occasionally got up to talk to Laura and Mariah about abortion, the war in Iraq, you know, all the controversial stuff. And bras, just to bug Dillon, until he threatened to “burn our hair”.
We finally got to PG and had dinner at Moxie’s where a not-so-polite (okay, to be frank, he was a jerk) Bryce kicked me out of my seat. I ended up sitting with Veronika, Linnéa and Jenny. It was actually really fun, though—we tucked our napkins into our shirts and looked like complete losers. I had Mediterranean Calamari Salad—deep fried baby squid. Okay, so for my science observations on fauna for the day, let’s just say baby squids are pretty much EVERYWHERE here, man. Science, check.
We went to the PG symphony orchestra. Honestly, it was fantastic. Even the tuning, all the cellos and violins playing their different strings... it was all dissonant and strange but also ridiculously melodic. =LOVE!
We waltzed for two songs—Shenise and I for one, where I lost one of my shoes and was partially bare foot; Alex and I for another, where he kicked my camera and the whole time we waltzed I was afraid it was dead. They played Beethoven’s Concerto in C#—all about struggle, apparently, but aso about the light at the end. The conductor sat at the piano in the very middle, conducting the orchestra with short, jerky movements, barely visible above the voluptuous body of the grand. He reminded me of Beethoven, who was already deaf by the time the Concerto was first performed.
So, we waltzed. Mrs. Brouwer cried, Janica and I compared photos and her camera is AMAZING. Honestly, traveling on my own (ish—give or take 50 other band kids?) isn’t so bad. We got up at intermission and talked to one of the cellists, just to tell him that they were really, really great. He told us a bit about Cuba, and made the whole thing seem that much more real.
“How many teenagers can waltz to a live orchestra?”
Cross that off my to do before I die list, I suppose.
Love,
Erika
PS: I would attach photos for you guys but my computer is being a complete idiot, sorry! More to come soon.
on my way;
This is morning, that's when I spend the most time thinking 'bout what I've given up. That’s a Jack’s Mannequin quote, I think. We’re leaving soon, first to buy medicine for all my various maladies and then to plop me on a bus, headed south of everything I know. Way to be melodramatic, yeah, I know. It’s my mom’s birthday and I feel bad for leaving her. We’re going to Cuba! But I’m scared.There’s that gnawing feeling in my gut, like, I want to do this, but also like, do you want to do this? I’m having trouble living in the moment, but I’m ready (that’s another Jack’s Mannequin song, by the way. I was listening to them this morning and clearly it stuck).
Hugged mom and dad goodbye. I’m sitting with Shenise at the very back, hope no one has to use the bathroom >.< style="font-weight: bold;">
In Smithers;
Checked the time at 11:11 am so now the day is looking up. We stopped at Timmy’s and the line up for the girls’ washroom was so long. I felt like some kind of low-IQ livestock being herded along.
The scenery of Terrace (and yes, looking back on this paragraph, at the time I was totally like, Science! Do it now! Conspicuous? Not at all), mountains whose white peaks scrape the sky, trees that stretch on in a haze of bright, young, spring green, and the river. Mighty rapids, murky water. It’s all here and we all take it for granted.
We pass fields with cows grazing. The back of Angie’s chair is scraping my knees. There are a few gasps as we lurch around a corner at full speed in our oversized Terrace Junior Hockey bus.
“I hate this town,” Time says, two rows up, munching on some hurriedly ordered Tim Horton’s food. My brother was born in Smithers, and I feel like it holds some significance for me—but it doesn’t, not really. My history does not lie here. But today, everyday, going to Cuba and beyond I am forging my own history.
I love this town.
In Prince George—dans l’hôtel;
So, the bus ride pretty much went on and I occasionally got up to talk to Laura and Mariah about abortion, the war in Iraq, you know, all the controversial stuff. And bras, just to bug Dillon, until he threatened to “burn our hair”.
We finally got to PG and had dinner at Moxie’s where a not-so-polite (okay, to be frank, he was a jerk) Bryce kicked me out of my seat. I ended up sitting with Veronika, Linnéa and Jenny. It was actually really fun, though—we tucked our napkins into our shirts and looked like complete losers. I had Mediterranean Calamari Salad—deep fried baby squid. Okay, so for my science observations on fauna for the day, let’s just say baby squids are pretty much EVERYWHERE here, man. Science, check.
We went to the PG symphony orchestra. Honestly, it was fantastic. Even the tuning, all the cellos and violins playing their different strings... it was all dissonant and strange but also ridiculously melodic. =LOVE!
We waltzed for two songs—Shenise and I for one, where I lost one of my shoes and was partially bare foot; Alex and I for another, where he kicked my camera and the whole time we waltzed I was afraid it was dead. They played Beethoven’s Concerto in C#—all about struggle, apparently, but aso about the light at the end. The conductor sat at the piano in the very middle, conducting the orchestra with short, jerky movements, barely visible above the voluptuous body of the grand. He reminded me of Beethoven, who was already deaf by the time the Concerto was first performed.
So, we waltzed. Mrs. Brouwer cried, Janica and I compared photos and her camera is AMAZING. Honestly, traveling on my own (ish—give or take 50 other band kids?) isn’t so bad. We got up at intermission and talked to one of the cellists, just to tell him that they were really, really great. He told us a bit about Cuba, and made the whole thing seem that much more real.
“How many teenagers can waltz to a live orchestra?”
Cross that off my to do before I die list, I suppose.
Love,
Erika
PS: I would attach photos for you guys but my computer is being a complete idiot, sorry! More to come soon.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
I wish I was the moon
Oh dear god, I haven't posted in so long. But I do have a few reasons why. You may call them "excuses", but they can go by several names.
1) Blogging scares the shit out of me. I'm never sure what to write about or what people will respond to. The idea of having followers is pretty awesome, but it's also pretty intimidating. That is, if you read what I write. I never know if I can swear, or any of that shit.
On that note, I've been reading some blogs lately and I'd like to thank Hannah Moskowitz (hannahmosk.blogspot.com) for everything she does and writes. When I first heard of her over on Absolute Write, I just thought she was a young writer, and quite frankly that was cool enough. After reading her blog, though, I've come to understand that she's not only a published author but also a fearless writer who speaks her mind and isn't afraid to be real and raw.
2) I've been in Cuba. Oh, hellllllll yes. It was a band trip. I'm going to be avidly copy-and-pasting the journal I wrote over the week or so on here so you can read it and enjoy... or something like that. It was a total experience, and Northern BC has never felt so cold... in May.
Okay, so I really only have two reasons, but I've been trying my best to sort things out and regain my sanity. Success? Debatable. But it's all up from here :)
Love,
Erika
1) Blogging scares the shit out of me. I'm never sure what to write about or what people will respond to. The idea of having followers is pretty awesome, but it's also pretty intimidating. That is, if you read what I write. I never know if I can swear, or any of that shit.
On that note, I've been reading some blogs lately and I'd like to thank Hannah Moskowitz (hannahmosk.blogspot.com) for everything she does and writes. When I first heard of her over on Absolute Write, I just thought she was a young writer, and quite frankly that was cool enough. After reading her blog, though, I've come to understand that she's not only a published author but also a fearless writer who speaks her mind and isn't afraid to be real and raw.
2) I've been in Cuba. Oh, hellllllll yes. It was a band trip. I'm going to be avidly copy-and-pasting the journal I wrote over the week or so on here so you can read it and enjoy... or something like that. It was a total experience, and Northern BC has never felt so cold... in May.
Okay, so I really only have two reasons, but I've been trying my best to sort things out and regain my sanity. Success? Debatable. But it's all up from here :)
Love,
Erika
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