Birds

I felt like writing a bit about Gwenevere (my preferred spelling) and King Arthur.  I made it up as I went, so don't judge on the historical inaccuracy.  Hope you enjoy. :)

Of all the years I have lived, the fondest were those between the war and the children.  Arthur had finished the War of Thirteen Kings, subjecting twelve under his rule as High King.  With Merlin’s absence to the Otherworld and the Knights home for a long leave, we were in the midst of moving court to Camelot, a city begun by Uther long ago and something which Arthur deeply wished to finish.  Only four knights remained with us, and one was leaving this very second to resume his hunt.

Arthur and I stood on the steps of Tintagel Castle as we said goodbye to our dear friend, Pellinore.  With Kay and Bedivere to Arthur’s right and Lancelot and I to his left, we watched as Pelly climbed his horse and turned him in a circle.  He galloped right up the steps to us in Pellinore’s grandiose style.

“Pelly!” I laughed as he charged me.  Lancelot caught my elbow as I trod backwards up the next step.

“Whoa, Curonious!” Pellinore pulled the horse up short.

Arthur, grinning, stretched his hand up to Pellinore.  “Farewell, my friend,” he said.  “Good luck with your beast.”

Pellinore grimaced.  “I don’t believe in luck, you know that!”

“Aye, I do, but I think you will need it nonetheless.”

Pellinore chuckled and shook his head.

“I will surely miss all of you.  Especially you, Kay.  Our sparring matches are stuff of legend.”

Kay nodded.  “Indeed.  I foresee many times you will need the lessons I taught you.”

“Ha!  What a load of shit!” exclaimed Pellinore, and then he turned abruptly to me.  “Excuse me, my lady.”  He bowed his head.

“Yes, excuse us, my lady.”  His smile spilt his face, and he bowed low to the ground.  It was a running joke that cursing offended me.  It had begun when several of the knights had heard me cursing.

“I pardon thee, Sir Pellinore, but not thee, Sir Kay” I said formally.

Arthur laughed and took my hand.

“How you tease her,” he said.  “I think Gwen will miss you most of all, Pelly.”

“Ah, if only that were true.  Could it be true, Jenny?”

“Only if you didn’t call me that!”

“But we admire your fire, lady, and calling you Jenny is one of the only ways to light it,” Bedivere said in his hasty way.

“Not in front of Arthur, Bedivere!”

We laughed.  Arthur kissed my hand.

“And you, Lancelot, will you miss me?” asked Pellinore.

There was a slight pause before Lancelot spoke.  “Only when it’s raining, I think.”

I tensed only a little.  Arthur glanced at me, feeling the movement through our handholding.  Only I knew of this little joke between Pellinore and Lancelot, and so we stood quietly while the two of them stared at one another.  Pellinore’s eyes tightened; he couldn’t believe Lancelot had spoken of the secret in public. 

“Let us in on your joke, Lancelot!” Arthur said.  “Even Gwenevere seems to be in on it!”

            Lancelot did not take his eyes away from Pellinore, and we both watched as Pellinore’s eyes danced as he looked from Lancelot to Arthur.

“He is mocking me, sire,” he replied.

“For what?  What did you do?” asked Bedivere.

“Oh,” Pellinore waved his hand, “for spying two birds in the woods once.  I tried to save them from the heavy rain, but alas, they’re lost out there somewhere, I’m sure.  It was an amusing sight to behold; isn’t that right, Lancelot?”

“Amusing to say the least,” Lancelot replied.

“Well, any last words of advice?” asked Pellinore, moving on.  His fingers twitched on the reigns.

“Just remember to keep your shirt tucked in!” Bedivere said.

Pellinore huffed and began to turn around.

“Your trousers belted, too!” said Kay.

Pellinore trotted down the steps.

“Your laces tied and your fingers crossed!” called Arthur.

“Pelly!”  I called after him.  He turned around.  “Fare the well!  Come back soon!”

“Nay, not soon, lady, but someday.”

“Send us your children then!”

“Ha!”

And he was gone.

Arthur took my arm as we ascended the steps.  Bedivere engaged him in a conversation about travel plans.

I looked at Lancelot.

“Sir, I have taken offense.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, you did not laugh at one of my jokes!”

“My thoughts have been occupied elsewhere, my lady.”

I said more quietly, “You did make a joke of your own.”

He snorted.  “Aye.  That I did.  Did you find it facetious?”  His hand grazed the back of my arm.

“Nay, perplexing.”

“I only meant to remind Pellinore of the birds.  He seemed so intent on helping them that day.  It was quite a scene.”

I nodded.  I could see the day clearly in my mind for I was one of the drenched birds Pellinore had helped.  My hair had been a tangled mess and my dress muddy and soaked through.  Every curve I had could be seen, and the other bird, the one that was beside me, stroking my arm up and down, up and down, was surely thinking of the same moment I was…

As we entered the castle, Arthur interrupted my thoughts.

“What ever are you thinking, Gwen?”

He stared steadily at me with his blue eyes.

“Birds, my lord.  Poor little lost birds.”

tiger's curse

So I have been reading Tiger’s Curse by Colleen Houck the past few days, and I must say that I am a big fan.  It’s always been on my to-read shelf, but I decided to buy it last week for a week-long vacation with NO internet.  OMG.  How spoiled I am.

Anyway, I figured it would be slow at first.  I love to read more than almost anything, but it is so hard for me to start a book.  I know it’s going to rip me open and make me feel things I don’t necessarily have to feel… I find myself putting books down for months and then coming back to them and peeking at them… only to put them down again until I have an actual sequel to it.  I am beginning to become ridiculous.

I was hooked from about the second page of Tiger's Curse.  The promise of the heroine “trying to break a 300-year-old Indian curse. With a mysterious white tiger named Ren” had me turning page after page.  I have always been intrigued by India’s culture, beliefs, traditions, myths, religion, etc.  Plus it has a giant white tiger in it.  And a cute Indian guy.

You should read it.  I am enjoying it immensely.

dear husband

i've loved you from the very beginning. ever since that moment when i was a
little girl and discovered i could share my life, my dreams, my triumphs, my
failures, my fears, my secrets, my very existence with someone, i've loved you dearly.
not a day has passed when i haven't thought or dreamed of you, & i hope you think of me.  i've kissed many frogs hoping they were you, but they weren't. are you coming soon?  i have a date tomorrow, & i know it's not you.  i wonder where you are.  are you just a few miles from me?  when i see shooting stars & wish on them, i wish for you, my love.  my mother keeps telling me that you are coming.  i try to have faith, but it's hard to when i still don't have you.  i will make love to you, & when we're old & gray, i'll still make love to you.  i love you with all my soul.  around people i look for you.  no matter where i am or who i am with.... i search for you & my eyes land on possible soul mates everywhere.  i am waiting for you, love.  i earnestly seek you every day, and every night in my dreams.  husband, no matter what you've done or i, you are mine and i am yours.  & even though I am still waiting on you, you are my true love, my soul mate, my best friend, my everything. God knew what he was doing when he made me wait this long for you. i love you. with every atom in my body, i love you. i cannot wait to meet you, whoever and wherever you are.

Bastards

Sometimes people are too much to deal with. All the different personalities and attitudes and beliefs and opinions.... They clash every day. How in the world has humanity made it this far? No one does what you ask them to, expect them to, want them to. It just weighs on you and complicates life.
Stepping around eggshells and trying not to hurt anyone's feelings.
Strong personalities vs. weaker ones just means weaker personas are kinder.
Today people are rubbing me the wrong way. It's probably me, but it sure doesn't feel like it.
I seek a simple life and simple solutions. And sometimes, days like these are hard to handle.

Star Trek

Yesterday was the 46th anniversary of Star Trek.  I think that’s awesomely nerdy because Star Trek is the epitome of nerdiness. 

It's not just a favorite fandom for nerds like me.  Star Trek: The Original Series changed the world.  It inspired fans for generations; some of the first (published) fan fictions and conventions were of the Star Trek fandom.  Star Trek also gave hope to the civil rights movement.

"For me, [Star Trek] was a vision for the future," Ryan Germick, designer of the featured Star Trek Google doodle yesterday, said.  "I think it was also that it was multicultural, pro-science, and full of curiosity and passion. I think like a lot of good science-fiction, it sort of says a lot about its present era. We can really appreciate what Star Trek did in its time. As an adult, you can appreciate how progressive it was. You learned to be compassionate towards all kinds of people – even alien creatures."

I remember watching Star Trek, the original series and The Next Generation, as a kid with my dad. As I grew older, I quit watching it. My generation has been spoiled by the amazing special effects in movies and television today; I am.  I began watching Star Trek (everything) again after Star Trek, the 2009 movie, came out.  I began to appreciate what Star Trek is all about.  It is more than special effects and galactic adventures.  It's about good vs. evil, greed vs. generosity, tolerance, compassion, courage, sacrifice-- life.  The sequel to the 2009 movie is due out next year.  

I saw a squirrel humping a toad.

No, not really.  That idea just randomly popped into my head.  I wonder if it's ever happened.  The offspring would be a large hairy toad with a snout, ears, and bushy tail, don't you think?

Why can't my imagination run wild like this with one of my story ideas?  It used to.  I wonder if I have too many ideas up in my head.  They do vie for attention all the time; it's frustrating.  I end up asking everyone in my head to shut up.  I need to concentrate on one story and stick with it.  The issue is I don't know where to begin.  I have no inspiration for any of the stories I think about writing.  But--

This is what Cassandra Clare says on the subject of inspiration:

How do I get inspired and stay inspired to finish my work? How do I get motivated? How do I keep from getting distracted? 

We should be taught not to wait for inspiration to start a thing. Action always generates inspiration. Inspiration seldom generates action. —Frank Tibolt 

Inspiration is wonderful when it happens, but the writer must develop an approach for the rest of the time… The wait is simply too long. —Leonard Bernstein 

I am not the person to ask about inspiration. Mostly, I don’t believe in it — not in the popular conception of inspiration, where a lightbulb goes off in your head and suddenly you are inspired and your fingers start flying over the keyboard. Sure, that can happen, but as Bernstein says, you can’t rely on that happening. Writing is hard work, work that relies on learning and applying a varied set of skills, and finding out what those skills are, learning and practicing them, is always better than waiting around for inspiration. To quote Kristi Holl’s Writer’s First Aid: 

Writers who wait for inspiration before they decide to write are generally known as hobbyists. Working writers-those actively writing and growing in their craft-must write whether the muse is “in” or not.

Not many professional writers believe in inspiration, and the more I try to write a book, the more and more and more I don't believe in it either.  Writing is hard work, like any other job out there.  I have so many excuses about why I can't write... I'm too tired from work.  I have writer's block.  I can't get enough alone time.  Blah blah blah.

Any suggestions to make me shut the hell up and get to it?

An idea

I have had a dystopian story in my head for about a year and a half now. Tonight I was thinking about it, thinking through what I knew about the story already and what else I needed to figure out... A lot more revealed itself to me. I'm a little excited. For now, though, bed. Night.