Two years, really?

Has it really been two years since I updated this blog?

That's sad.

Blogs are like kids. It's easy to forget about them if you have too many. And I have 13 blogs. (Luckily, for my kids, I only have three kids.)

Speaking of novels and wishes children and ideas, here's something for you. And I'm serious this time. I'm going to write this summer. Really.

Here's the idea:

Boys are going extinct. All the babies being born are girls. It used to be 50/50 girls/boys, but now it's like 80/20 girls/boys.

So Charles (or Tom) is one of the boys. He's 15. And he's one of only 6 boys in his school. There are 814 girls. Sounds awesome, right guys? But there's a lot of pressure. Even today there are a lot of expectations put on men. What it means to be a man. And in this story, those expectations are on steroids. Charles (or Tom) is trying to figure out who he is and who he loves and what he's supposed to be.

That's all I have so far.

Oh, wait, and the title:

But I also have a new keyboard for my iPad and a book to help motivate me and other books to give me ideas and some free time (since I finished my Master's last month).

So here goes nothing.

Stuck in Neutral

I had a great idea for a novel. I was walking past a wishing well with my two sons. The idea came out of nowhere. I got in the car, took out my iPod, and captured my idea.

Then yesterday I had another one. I took out my iPod and recorded the idea before it vanished.

Newsflash: I'm no closer today to starting my novel than I was 11 years ago.

I wonder if I'll ever be.

Paris

I don't know why it's become an obsession. It was just a book. But now it's a dream. Now it's the focus for my creative writing class. Now it's more than just a picture on my wall.


Sometimes I stare out the window and realize how far away Paris really is. And then my elbow hurts. And my eyes get worse. And my heart wonders how long it will keep beating if I ignore it?

We can dream forever. No matter what day it is, there's always tomorrow. Or maybe there's no tomorrow. I can't remember.

I saw you the other night and now I can't stop thinking about you.

Game On

11 years. That's how long it took to get the first degree. So I have some experience. After a three-year break, I'm back in the game. And that's exactly what it is: a game. The world's a stage, right? And we're the players.

I hate reading...textbooks. I read a lot (still not as much as an English teacher should, but still). I read Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close over Memorial Day weekend. I'm reading Catcher in the Rye for the second time. But these textbooks are overtaking our lives. Sucking all the reading desire out of us.

Thank heaven for the art of skimming.

If skimming were a sport, I'd be a pro.

Eyes on the Prize

When I was a kid, I really wanted glasses. And braces. This is how bad peer pressure gets. I wanted these things because I saw other people who had them, and I wanted to be like them.

I'm probably not the only person who's had this thought. But I may be the only one who went this far. I could see the diagram just fine.

But I lied. I squinted my eyes when I could see fine all along. This was before the days of glasses with no prescription. I needed the prescription. And I got it.

And here I am now, -4.00 prescription in both eyes, wondering if it was ever meant to be. I'm going back to school this summer (Masters at UVU), and I'm asking myself: am I doing this for the right reasons?

Welcome Back

I have hoards of students who inspire me. Some of them push me to be a better blogger. Some of them are so good they make me want to stop writing.

So here I go. No assignments. No quotes from movies or songs (those can be found here). Just me.

Be careful what you never thought you asked for.