Says She's Got Hope...

The month of February was a rough one. I wish I could say it was just me, but it isn't. If I were the only one struggling it would have been more bearable, but nearly everyone I interact with was having some kind of problem too.

Really, it all started to unravel the week of Valentine's Day. Please don't take this as a single hating on the holiday devoted to couples--it's not. I really have no problem with Valentine's Day, except that it means there is way too much chocolate just floating around. In fact, I was even determined to have a good February 14th because, honestly, the week before had been awful for some people and I didn't want the trend to continue.

I went to bed that Monday praying I would get a letter from a graduate program. In my dreams I would be accepted into the Literature program at my top choice of school. It would be a day to write home about.

Well. I did call home, several times that day, but it had nothing to do with grad school letters. I was having some chest pain that was worrisome. I spent Valentine's Day morning in and out of various medical locations. Alone. (And I wasn't pining for a special someone, I just wanted my momma.)

A couple days later (Thursday) I had mail. An envelope from my preferred school. It was small, average letter size. Why do we put so much of our fate into the seals of envelopes? Inside was a perfectly creased rejection letter. My heart sank, and all through my British Literature class I was distracted. At one point, my professor called on me, and I scrambled to find the answer to a question I hardly heard. When I apologized after class for being distracted I cried. In front of a professor, whom I love but have no emotional connection with, I cried.

Since that day I've been riddled with thoughts of rejection, and in the back of my mind I can hear Professor Reek chanting, "They don't know what they're missing!" But as the days go on, his voice fades away and I'm left alone with the self doubt. What if I didn't get into the literature program because I'm not ready? I'm not passionate enough? I don't have what it takes?

This last week I found out I didn't get into one of the Creative Writing programs I applied to...and the questions started up again. (It was even the program that I was least interested in, and I still got upset about it.) Maybe this is all God's way of telling me that I picked the wrong career path.

That's just my stuff. And my stuff this month seems pretty lame compared to every thing else that my friends are going through.

I've started drinking tea again--like, every night and day. I also turned on some Anberlin. I don't know why I forget that they are one of the few bands that lets me wallow for a little while before convincing me it's time to get back up again. I need to put that in a hubby letter, something like this: "When I'm upset or depressed, put on some Anberlin and it will probably be okay in a few hours." (This rut is taking longer than a few hours to work myself out of.)

This will be a better month. March means spring is coming, and spring means there is hope.

"You're so brilliant. Don't soon forget. You're so brilliant. Grace marks your heart." [Anberlin, The Unwinding Cable Car]

There's still good in this world, and it's worth fighting for...

Well. You've all noticed this already, I'm sure, but I kind of fell off the blogsphere... and after a weekend of feeling wretched (for several reasons, but partially because I wasn't writing--and when I tried it flopped) I decided I needed to pick myself up and get with it. I found a partially started entry that I think I should still share with you...and then finish the thought. 

What was already said:

Oh, where to begin...as I have mentioned before, this semester has been crazy busy. It's been a good and bad kind of busy (I'm getting a lot done, and I don't feel like I'm drowning, but I'm also super behind on letter writing, sorry Danielle). It's been a challenge, that is for sure.

One of the largest challenges I've faced is filling out graduate school applications. Now, because I'm going into writing I have to send in a writing sample. Initially I didn't think this would be an issue at all. I've been working on this story (Morning Star) and feel pretty confident about the first couple chapters. A professor (my boss at the Writing Center) looked over what I thought I would be submitting and told me that grad schools may not even consider an applicant who submits genre fiction. (This is where things got hectic.) After emailing the school I'm looking at, this fear was confirmed. So I frantically found something "literary fiction" that I can submit, but it needs revisions.

While talking to my professor about what the writing workshop world is like, I realized that I was entering in to one of the hardest fights of my life--my academic life. I'm going to have to fight for "my thing." Honestly, the mere idea of this kind of potential confrontation has me shaking with nerves.

And the rest:

This isn't as much of an issue anymore because my applications are all in and I'm just waiting. Waiting, hopefully with some patience, for the word. I'm still nervous, sure. Maybe even a little scared about what the future may hold. But isn't that always the way when turning to a new chapter?

I did something unexpected in the middle of the application process. It didn't occur to me until one night when I was sipping at coffee with Lisa, she asked if I had thought about applying to any literature programs. I hadn't, not really. And then I just did it. I applied for a program that I hadn't really even thought about.

Creative Writing has always been my thing, just as genre fiction has always been my thing. But I can still write (genre fiction) without a Master's degree in it... and if I enter into the literary world maybe I'll be better equipped to fight for it. I only applied to the one literature program. One chance.

So don't think I'm going to stop fighting. I'm not. But I'm maybe going to take the Hobbit position for a while and just see how it all pans out. Then I'll walk to Mordor. And fly back with the Eagles.

Love you all, and I promise I'll post more frequently. :)

Like butter scraped over too much bread...

What am I doing tonight?

On the floor, on my stomach, typing away at Morning Star -- there's an engagement! I'm excited that such an emotional scene last night could evolve into something so expected, but not at that moment. It's all about timing. I'm sipping coffee, writing, and yes, half watching Magnum PI.

And you know what? I have a headache. Normally I'm pretty decent at multitasking, but I'm not tonight. My brain isn't keeping up with what I want to be doing. Part of that is from lack of sleep--I was up rather late last night, writing. The night is still young though, and so I'm looking for ways to keep myself awake. (Hence the decaf coffee. I know, it's decaf, but it's hot.)

I started a new workout program this week, and I'm really excited about it. But it's way more intense than what I had been doing, and so I'm a little sore in the shoulders. And I've been having chronic stomach pain every evening. (Just a general ickyness.)

Then there's the upcoming GRE. That's got me more than just a little stressed out. Last night, a friend reminded me that not all colleges care about this test. In fact, the school I'm most interested in said that it wasn't a requirement, but what recommended. Why am I taking it then? Hopefully I'll do well on it. I need to study. I mean, I really need to buckle down and study. There are so many other things that occupy my mind though... I know that while I'm testing I'll start thinking about Elves and Fantasy worlds... but I should study anyway, and put forth a strong effort.

I also didn't get a letter in the mail on time today. And that upsets me. When did I start slacking with putting letters in the mailbox? That's not even the worst of it, I have letters backed up waiting for responses from the end of June. I should do that. I really should, and I know I should. So why haven't I?

There are pictures that need to be taken. I need to get my Etsy account all squared away with product pictures. Maybe my cousin will be a bag model for me...I'll have to call her sometime soon.

And now I am indescribably thankful that I did not get a job this summer.

Nerd factor of the night: I'm drinking coffee from a Lord of the Rings mug...that I designed. It's pretty sweet, not going to lie.

"You don't even have to talk about what you're talking about. If you know what I mean." [Magnum PI]

Were hearts made whole just to break?

Rejection. It's been the tune of my summer. And believe me when I say that this has nothing to do with romance, again. No, it's something a little more shallow, but still a bit painful.

I've been filling out job applications like no one's business. To no avail. Either I don't meet the requirements (how do I not make the requirements at a bookstore?) or they aren't hiring (even though they're handing out applications like cheap candy).

Now, I suspect the requirements I'm not making having something to do with going back to school in the Fall. Who would have thought that going to college would cost me job opportunities? Didn't think of that negative. 

Who would have a big sign when you walk into their store: "Pick up your application today!" if they weren't actually hiring? Talk about false hope...

As bitter as I am about this this morning, it has given me a lot to think about. How could the constant "no" be teaching me? What should I be learning from this experience?

Well, when I get to graduate school applications I probably (and by "probably" I mean "definitely wont") get into every school I apply to. And when I am in grad school not everyone will like my writing style or subject matters. When I get to the publishing world, not every agent will like my stuff. And when I have an agent, not every publisher will like my story. When I get a publisher, not every editor will be helpful. When I'm done editing and book is published, not every reader will enjoy my fantasy either. There will always be disappointments.

Perhaps this summer I am learning to handle those issues. I am preparing for my life. Why didn't anyone tell me the start pistol had fired?

I'm going to leave you with a short poem I wrote last night, when I was trying to work out the next seen in Morning Star. It's just a ditty, really, it needs work. But it's a start.


It is not for lack of paper,
That I do not write.
I have drawer upon drawer
Of books waiting to be written.

It is not for lack of heart,
That my voice is silent.
I have tear after tear,
Of love and pain to be heard.

It is for lack of courage,
That I shrivel in fear.

But stand up,
Silent poet,
Be strong.

I will move ahead bold and confident...

Well, it's Monday night (or Tuesday morning) and in approximately three days I will be presenting my paper on Tolkien's Middle Earth at a theology conference. Let me fill you in on what exactly I'm going to be talking about:

"In this presentation, I will be exploring the idea of hope versus despair. This exploration will take place in the context of Middle Earth, a fantastical land created by Professor J.R.R. Tolkien. In “The Lord of the Rings” there is a group of unlikely companions that are sent to destroy evil. I will be discussing predestination and how it impacts the hope versus despair theme that comes up in Tolkien’s literary works. I will focus primarily on “The Lord of the Rings” and possibly include other books by Tolkien. With this presentation I will have a power point to show the text to the audience, so they can follow along as I discuss."

 Yeah, so that's the gist of it. And I have a lot of work ahead of myself. 


Now, I have had more presentations in the last two weeks then I have had in the last three semesters (not including this one, that math would be impossible). It seems a bit excessive, honestly. Something you need to understand: I don't do well in front of people. I get nervous, my face turns red (or so it feels), and my hands get shaky. It's kind of obvious.


One of my professors commented to me on blackboard, "Nice job! Continue building you speaking confidence. You are INCREDIBLY bright so you need not be timid about presenting." (Gernant) Now, all that emphasis is hers, not mine. I say that because I don't think I would call myself "INCREDIBLY bright" but I must admit that my confidence, when it comes to presenting, is seriously lacking. It's bad.


So, this Friday I get to present in front of a bunch of people I don't know. Yeah, it's going to be great... *heavy sarcasm*


Now, my friend Andrew suggested that I just pick one person out at the conference and "talk" to them. We both agreed that it would be kind of creepy, but that it would probably work. 


Any speaking tips out there?


Praying for the nerves to go away.


"Yet it is not our part to master all the tides of the world, but to do what is in us for the succour of those years wherein we are set, uprooting the evil in the fields that we know, so that those who live after may have a clean earth to till. What weather they shall have is not ours to rule." [Gandalf, The Return of the King]