Criticize Me Some More!

Not everyone has to work hard for what they have. Just those that really deserve it.

At least, that's what I'm trying to tell myself lately. I'm feeling less than motivated this season, seeing as I've been pretty sick and had lots of personal troubles to trip me up. But that's life, right?

I'm still deciding most of my new plan for changing things. It seems I'm in excess of things I want to change, but not in the time it takes to change them. Hmm. Sacrifices are going to have to be made. Life will have to change.

Have I ever expected it to come easily? Did I ever expect making myself into something great to come naturally, without effort or work?

In that vein, I'd like to ask you, dear readers, for your opinions. Please tell me of any and all flaws you see in my writing. And hold nothing back! I welcome your criticism. I won't lie and say it won't sting, but it's for a good cause: my own self-improvement.

So, please, criticize away!

Victim No More

I've lost sight of my goals and my desires so many times. And far too often I blame the things that happen to me. Of course, those things do effect me. But they effect my mind, and that is the true ruling factor of my life.

I have been a victim of my mind my whole life. I've let it lead me away from the things I truly want. I've let it deviate my course, cut me down right when I begin to see the beauty of success, and I have no one to blame but myself.

Such strange creatures we are. A bag of chemicals and electrical impulses sharing space with this strange thing we call consciousness. And yet, our consciousness has such limited control over those chemicals and electrical impulses. They do what they were made to do, and sometimes that is much to our detriment. Consciously, we see what we want and do what we can to get it. But our minds, they are such fickle things. I often wonder: of what use is consciousness, if we do not even understand what we are trying to control?

But I digress. The point is, our own minds are usually our greatest enemy when it comes to the quests of the soul. I want to be and do so many things. But my mind and body keep getting in the way. Is there a way to bring these two things into balance? A way to synchronize what I want with what I have?

I'm determined to try. Dear readers, if you're still out there, reading this, I want you to know: I haven't given up. My vision of how to get where I want to be has changed quite a lot since I last posted here. Even some of the idea of WHAT I want has changed. But I'm still here, working away, trying to change, and make myself into a better person.

I'm only human, and that's something I'm going to have to come to terms with. But, somehow, my conscious mind is going to make this bag of chemicals and electrical impulses follow this quest to the end. It may be a twisted path, but I am determined to walk it.

Magic

Like most writers I've met, I believe that words are a form of magic. They weave a spell around our souls, capturing the world in a few seemingly simple words. They aren't an illusion or a trick. They are power beyond measure. They are true magic.

They have the power to do incredible good and terrible evil. They can twist into lies, or bring forth great truth. They can be emotional, logical, or a mixture of both. They can comfort and caress, or they can punish and slap. It all depends on the user.

I have studied their use for many years. My entire life, to be honest. And while I may only be a 23 year old girl, I've watched and learned far more than most my age.

Because the magic of words fascinates me.

How can such small things shape the world so much? How can one word change an entire experience? What is it about words that holds such power?

And how do I harness that power for myself?

Those questions have dominated my life. I have pursued a life dedicated to the study of words and their power. And writing has been one means I have found to study it. But social interaction has opened up previously unexplored territories for me.

I have been quite surprised to discover that interacting with people on a daily basis has increased my writing ability. You'd think it would be the opposite, right? After all, pursuing social interaction takes away from the time I have to write. So why does it increase my skill?

But, of course, social interaction is all about words. Every word you say is used both for and against you in every interaction you undertake. Effective communication is the only way you can guarantee people can see you for who you are. That means you have to learn to say things just right, or people will never learn to like you for you.

And thus, social interaction actually makes you a better writer.

It all boils down to the magic that words hold over us all. Can you weave the spell just right, or will it backfire on you?

Strength

Strength is such a complicated word. I find strength in words and power in the mind, where I explore a rich internal world. But other people find strength in brute force, money, beauty, and social connections.

Don't get me wrong; I can see where those things have their benefits. I just don't care about them as I do words and imagination. To me, those are the true strengths of humanity, the true powers that can beat any odds.

Each source of power and strength has a place in life, of course, but I think if words and imagination were the primary source of power in this world, it would be a much better place to live. And if you use the other sources of power in combination with these two, you'll be unstoppable.

I don't have incredible beauty, I wasn't born rich, I'm not a very social creature, and I'm definitely not a physically blessed person. But I was born with a rich imagination and a love of words. Capability to use those two gifts effectively came from much trial and error, but the fascination was inside of me from day 1. And it lives on inside of me to this day.

What do you think about strength? Is it a complex assortment, delved from multiple sources? Or is it much simpler than that? Does brute force mean more than intelligence? What is your source of strength?

My Heart Belongs

I love my fantasy worlds. I love them so much that I live there about 90% of the time. As my mom has often said in my life, I live in my fantasy worlds and merely visit reality.

It makes me quite different than other people. And apparently that shows. But I don't want to change. I truly adore the fantasy work I do.

That's where I belong.

And I guess that's why I reacted a little crazy when I had someone send me a message of how words are not reality the other day. For some reason, that really upset me. I argued back that words ARE reality, because they are the way we interpret, interact with, and understand everything that is "real". Every thought, every emotion, can only be consciously understood if it is made into WORDS. Words hold the power of reality inside of them. They shape and flex it to create other dimensions, other universes, and they take us there to visit and see things we could never visit or see in real life.

That's why I love writing. That's what brings me back to this dream over and over and over again. I want to shape reality. I want to warp it into something that no one else has ever seen before.

I want to share my fantasy.

What's Wrong?

I may be a good writer now. But I'm not great. And I desperately need to be great. I believe my key to greatness is criticism.

If I want to grow, I'm going to have to ruthlessly work on the things I'm bad at. I've been tackling the consistency problem I've had, but it's time to identify other weaknesses in my writing and start targeting those behaviors, too. Only by identifying them and working through them can I hope to get better.

I know I can do it. For once in my life, I finally view criticism as a good thing, instead of a self-esteem bashing. I have to use it to grow, instead of viewing it as some kind of proof that I'm not good enough as I am. That's my path to greatness.

So, if any of you readers out there can identify where I need improvement, I'd dearly appreciate it. I'd also appreciate it if you know of any sites where I can join and have my work critiqued by other writers. I'd like to start working on my writing in full force now.

I'm going to need YOUR help to do it.

Daily Stats:

 

1. Exercised, stretched, meditated, and worked on my writing twice today.
2. Wrote in my journal, stayed on budget, did not write a poem today.
3. Posted on my blog.
4. Made my bed.
5. Stayed on my diet.
6. Cooked my lunch and breakfast and dinner.
7. Drew.

A Writer's Soul

I sometimes seem to forget why I'm making this change. And when I realized that today, it made me realize something else as well. I have spent so much of my time both on and off this blog talking about these changes I'm making that I've forgotten to mention the why of it all.

A serious oversight, to be sure.

Why am I doing all of this? Because I'm a writer. It isn't my occupation, it isn't my hobby. It isn't just my passion. It's my life, who and what I am. Writing has defined my entire existence. Not just the act of writing, putting words on the paper, but the act of creating. Creating worlds, characters, stories. I've done that since I was a very small child. And I can't imagine a life without it.

That's why I'm doing all of this work. That's why I'm here. I want to be an incredible author. I want people to read my work for generations. Not because I'm egotistical. I may want to be special (who doesn't?), but I've had this driving need to share my worlds and stories with people since before I understood what money and fame were. I need people to see what I see. I need to give them a glimpse into my mind.

I've struggled to share my world inside my head since I was a kid. And other people never seemed to get it quite to the degree I needed them to. At first, I wrote it off as impossible to communicate, but still I itched to share.

And then I decided to do something about it. I worked on my writing, trying to share once again.

It didn't work out that well.

My work was creative and vivid and incredible. But the writing just wasn't good enough to communicate what I wanted to communicate to other people. Nor had I learned how to create a complete story from the random ideas and worlds that were in my head.

In short, it sucked. But it had potential.

My writing has improved since then. Not enough, still, but I continue to get better all the time. I've learned to piece together stories from the pictures in my head. Stories other people can see and understand almost as well as I can.

It's the writing I need to improve. I'm good with words, but I'm not great. And I need to be great. That's the only way I'll be able to truly communicate my worlds. It's the only method I have to share it all.

And sharing my worlds is my reason for being. I've known it my entire life. That's why I'm doing all of this. Because I have to share my worlds with everyone, or I'll have failed to fulfill my purpose.

If you can't tell yet, I don't like to fail.

Daily Stats:

1. Exercised, stretched, meditated, and worked on my writing twice today.
2. Wrote in my journal, stayed on budget, and wrote a poem today.
3. Posted on my blog.
4. Made my bed.
5. Stayed on my diet today.
6. Fixed my lunch and cooked my breakfast.

Determined To Succeed

I finished reading Talent Is Overrated today. It was truly a great book. And I think I am the richer for having read it.

One point has really stuck with me, though. It was on the last few pages of the book, just about at the end, when the author said that many people who have achieved great things have little to no social life and very few hobbies. The author points out that it takes great determination and need to be willing to forgo relationships and fun to achieve your dreams. He even goes on to question how big something would have to be to make you feel the same way.

And I asked myself that question today. Over and over again, I asked it. I've long held the dream of having it all. I wanted to live my dream life, have my dream career, and have a family. And I wanted to be GREAT at it all.

But I'm not Superwoman. I can't do everything. I'm going to have to make some choices. And it all comes back to what I want more than anything from my life. The answer to that question didn't take but a moment for me to think up.

I want to be a writer.

And not just any writer. I want to be a world-reknowned author. I want to be one of the greatest writers to have ever lived. I want to share my worlds, my characters, my stories with generations of people. I want it so bad that it actually hurts.

If push comes to shove, I'm willing to forgo a social life and hobbies to achieve this dream. This dream is more important to me than pretty much anything else.

And I will succeed. There isn't another option anymore.

Daily Stats:

1. Exercised, stretched, meditated, and worked on my writing twice today.
2. Wrote in my journal, stayed on budget, and wrote a poem today.
3. Posted on my blog.
4. Made my bed.
5. Stayed on my diet. :D
6. Cooked my lunch and dinner, and fixed the rest.

The Death of a Blog

I used to write another blog. It was called Kyla's Not Normal. I was initially quite excited about it. I wanted to share the writing experience with everyone, just as I wanted to share my story.

But mostly I wanted to create an author's presence on the web.

I really want to make it as an author. I have dreamed of sharing my stories with the world since I was 5 years old. Because there were things I saw and felt that other people simply didn't. I went to other worlds, and I dragged my friends there with me. They weren't upset about it for long. Very shortly, they were having as good a time as I was!

I've wanted to share those worlds and characters on a much larger scale ever since. And a blog was just another tool I used to reach that goal.

It isn't a terrible reason. But the blog was a means to an end, not an end in and of itself. Plus, when I didn't feel it was working, or that my work was going fast enough, it made it far too easy to drop the blog in favor of things like boys and partying.

This time I want it to be different. I don't want to set myself up to fail again. Each post on this blog is an accomplishment in and of itself without anyone commenting, and without my presence as an author being enlarged. Each comment is an opportunity for growth and expression. Each time it's hard to log on and update my blog? That's a challenge and an opportunity to show how much I've grown since the last one.

I blog because I believe it's good for me. I blog because I enjoy it.

And I still hope to make it as an author. But that's not what it's all about anymore. It's about becoming a better person. Becoming great.

Daily Stats:

 

1. Did not exercise or stretch today, but meditated and worked on my writing.
2. Wrote in journal, stayed on budget, and wrote a poem today.
3. Posted on my blog.
4. Didn't clean at all.

Write A Poem a Day And Your Muse Will Stay

Everyone who has ever wanted to be a writer has heard the quote, "Writers write." And while this is true, most people take that quote a step further and say, "Writers write every day."

I've never been one to agree with that sentiment. I still don't agree with it. I was just as much a writer 4 months ago as I am today.

But I do believe the principal of that sentence is sound. If you change the words a little. Maybe something a little more like this would work: "BETTER writers write every day."

The hard truth is that you have to practice to be good at something. And someone who practices (especially deliberate practice) every day is going to improve faster and more than someone who doesn't. That's why all-star basketball players make the big bucks, and our neighborhood basketball team makes nothing from a 'hobby'. The only thing that truly separates them is practice.

Lots and lots and lots of practice.

So why have I decided to write a poem a day, every day? Because that is writing. That is an exercise of creativity, wit, and skill. And the more I exercise my writing muscles, the better writer I will become.

Not to mention, poetry is a stark exposure of the soul. Melodramatic? Maybe. But that makes it no less true. Every poem I have ever written has exposed a dark, secret part of me. Most people don't know what I'm saying (poetry is like a code because it means different things to different people), but those who truly know me, connect with my meaning and know me even deeper. It's kind of terrifying and freeing at the same time.

Have you ever written a poem? What was its meaning to you?

Daily Stats:

 

1. Exercised, stretched, meditated, and worked on writing twice today.
2. Wrote in my journal, stayed on budget, and wrote a poem today.
3. Posted on my blog.
4. Made my bed, worked on laundry, and picked up in my room.