Refugee Writer

No heat or electric since early in the day on Saturday. I've been sleeping under a pile (2) cats in an effort to stay warm. Early this morning I awoke with a red nose and numb fingertips. I've been living off apples and cashews. Trees are dangling on wires and split into pieces along roadways. It's been moderately intense.
Tomorrow the power is anticipated to be turned back on, but some of the towns around us won't have it until Thursday, so it's hard to tell. You become very aware of county and township dividing lines in this sort of weather. Roads will be clear until you pass the county line, then they are covered with tree branches and slush. I'm huddled here on campus. I may stay over until power gets back on at home.
If power comes back tomorrow, it will be just in time to start typing my NaNoWriMo masterpiece.

Rock Me Like a Hurricane

I've survived pretty well this weekend. Probably because of all my preparation which included bringing all the potted herbs in and making sure I had a stack of books. My father's preparations included securing pizza and beer. We have our priorities. Many friends had hurricane parties yesterday and a local cafe made their evening cocktail special "Hurricane Hooch."
Actually, where I live fared far better than the town above us. Even though we're lower, we have so much farmland and preserved open space around us, that much of the overflow from the stream was absorbed. My friend Amy who only lives a few miles away called me this morning to say that a boat went by their house. Though we are fortunate, we are also stuck. Many of the major roads are flooded or have downed trees and power lines to contend with. The rain has stopped, but the wind is whipping up, so though we have power now, that may change.
Of course, tomorrow morning I have my first class of the semester which may be a problem. Currently all routes to campus are impassable.
I have discovered that minor natural disaster bring out my nesting instinct. I picked apples on Friday and made apple sauce. It's pretty fantastic. Then I made peach and pear preserves which we had on toast this morning.
I hope everyone is staying safe and having fantastic hurricane parties.

Rainy Spring Nights

The almost non-stop rain doesn't bother me much because everything is turning such a lush shade of green and flowers are bursting out of the naked branches of winter.
It's the end of the semester rushed feeling now. When you have too much to do for your classes and extracurricular commitments, something always comes up in your personal life of course. When plans and worries are fluttering through your brain like a flock of deranged birds, it's hard to focus on your art project or your paper on Vertigo.
Taking time to eat and sleep properly is even harder. Like music and art therapy, I believe in literary therapy. Writing your feelings and even reading certain books can be extremely therapeutic. I'm currently reading An American Childhood by Annie Dillard when I have a few moments-- usually I read one or two chapters before bed. I'll post a review when it's finally finished.
Even worse is when someone decides to clean your things and then you don't know where anything is. It may seem chaotic, but there is a system of organization at work and if you interrupt it, I will be paralyzed for weeks, sorting through where everything was "put away." This is why I probably shouldn't share a living space with other people.
So, basically, it's almost 1 am, I'm sitting here listening to the rain (and looking out for Doctor Who monsters-- the season premiere freaked me out), I'm trying to relax and let my mind shut down so I can sleep tonight.

Eleventh Doctor Busts A Move

Yes, yes, I'll get back to my NaNo in a minute, but it's blizzarding outside so I can't go shoot my bow or take a walk around the cemetery to cheer myself up, this has to be it.
It's a very silly interview with Matt Smith on Craig Ferguson's talk show (I'd never seen the show before this), about 10 minutes in he shows off some very nice dance moves. He also wears some interesting socks- I think his pant legs are a few inches too short, but oh well.
This will, inevitably, eat my sidebar, but I think it's worth it.

Summertime Haikus

Here is a set of haikus:
June 22nd

Everything worn smooth
By grit of crumbled mountains,
Shrieking small children

The constant crashing
Like a lost limb, you still feel
When out, flesh reddened

Empty houses of the dead,
The ground under your feet pulled,
Hats, pasta salad

I'll be by later with a cautionary tale about the dangers of summer reading.

Real Life Stuff

So I have been busy lately working at my “real job” by real I mean there are regular paychecks and stupid things I don’t want to do but have to. It’s actually not that bad, I’ve worked at far stupider places for less money. The weather’s been giving me migraines (and blew down my poor tent) so I haven’t been writing as much as I’d like to.
I also realized I completely missed this years’ Tony Awards. Some theatre geek I am. I somehow forgot it was on. Oh well.

Writer's Retreat

I wrote a novella last summer that I am determined to create a full length novel out of. It was inspired by people I met during my summers at the Renaissance Faire- modern day gypsies (though that is technically a derogatory term I have learned through research) that travel to faires and festivals around the country selling their wares. To gain inspiration for writing about nomads I have made an odd little campsite for myself to write in in the evenings.
It consists of a decent sized screen tent that I have draped with light colored fabrics for privacy, and relief from the sun. I have a chair and a blanket inside so I can sprawl about with my books and notebooks or even my laptop sometimes. Outside I have two wrought iron candle holder poles that came with the house, so I'm told, and long red candles that belonged to my mother since before I was born. When it gets dark (like now) I light them and hope a "Death of the Moth" situation does not arise. I'm sure the neighbors are slightly taken aback by this display, but no one's said anything yet. I expect next week I will have to take it all down so the lawn can be mowed, but hopefully I can get it back up directly, I have actually begun writing again. If I don't write anything for a few days I get anxious, it's such a part of my life and behavior, I went over a week without really writing anything during this move and I am relieved to be back on track. The tent does have its downfalls, a wasp got trapped in it yesterday and could not be persuaded out the opening. I had to light incense inside to make him sleepy with the smoke, then brush him off the roof, on the ground and out of the tent where he regained his faculties and flew away.
There is so much I want to do. Last night I stumbled across a script I wrote when I was 16. It's not half bad, I'd really like to rework it now that I am older and arguably wiser. Though it is possible I peaked very young and my best years are behind me... well, I won't dwell on that thought.

Hard-Core Journalism?

Today I braved the cold, drenching rain to cover a student protest on the college campus. In spite of the weather, about thirty two students arrived and I recorded some wonderful interviews with students and administration alike.
As soon as the students dispersed to classes and dry shelter, I ran back to the newsroom and possibly beat my record for quickest assembled article.
I feel like a lot of what we do at the college paper, as well as on blogs is just recycling stories that other people have already written. Maybe getting a new perspective or doing extra research, but it's still a lot of sitting in front of a computer. It's not often we get to break something completely fresh and I love it when we do. That's the grass roots, "hard-core" journalism students dream of. Imagining, as Tom Stoppard put it "lying on the floor of an African airport while machine-gun bullets zoomed over my typewriter."
Though not quite to that level, or even to the level protests from my parents' day reached- the tear gas of the Vietnam era- it still felt good to be reporting something live. Whether the protest had the effect the students wished remains to be seen.

Monday Morning Drive

After a small family Masterpiece Theatre Party at my dad's last night, I crashed in my old bedroom at his house. The mattress was more uncomfortable than I remembered and in the middle of the night I found myself sitting out on his balcony trying to keep my candles from blowing out. My breath came in clouds and I could hear oceans of water pouring through the rain gutters. But I couldn't sleep.
This morning I woke up and the house was empty except for me. I hadn't slept there in an age and it was strange. I would have loved to stay there and wander around the little town all day, but I had to behave as a responsible adult and come home, there are a million things to do.
The drive was beautiful though. Bits of color are starting to burst out from the naked winter branches and a light fog hung over everything like a canopy. I felt like I was in I Capture the Castle, it always seemed to be raining in that book- a damp but lovely English countryside. It was all very serene. I normally don't like driving on back country roads, they make me nervous, but I didn't mind it at all today.
And in case you were wondering: Sharpe's Challenge was quite good, and Sean Bean was hunky as usual. Cornwell is one of my father's favorite authors and he loved it.

I Long for: Spring

I took a walk today beneath naked trees with shreddy bark and the sky was almost white. If it had been warmer and drier I would have laid beneath the trees for a bit and enjoyed the smell of a nearby cluster of evergreens. Alas, it was not warm and dry. For some reason I feel compelled to be in nature, but the weather doesn't quite jive with that impulse currently.
The photo is a few days old but the conditions haven't changed much.

Oh Good Morning

Last night I couldn't sleep so I tried to continue with my Middlmarch reading. This morning I woke up and remembered nothing of what I read. So now I have to read it again. I wrote five pages of my new story today, I feel like a wuss, this would not cut it in a NaNo situation. The shifting weather patterns have been giving me migraines though.
The sun was out for a little while, it's going away now. I woke up to this:

Just a Rumor (Thank Goodness)

According to an article on tvsquad.com there were rumors of a mini series based off Jane Austen and Seth Grahame-Smith's Pride and Prejudice and Zombies , but they are untrue. Everyone with me now: Collective Sigh of Relief.
However, the "living author" has said there is interest in creating a theatrical film based off the piece. The writer of the article seems dissapointed at the lack of mini series and says "I've just started reading it, Jane Austen was never this funny." Well maybe her humor is more subtle than say... Shaun of the Dead, but plenty of people would disagree with you there sir. JASNA for example?
Picture and Quotation courtesy of www.tvsquad.com.
Oh and in case you thought Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters was going to be the end of this, you were wrong. (Why oh why couldn't you have been right??) Coming December 8th: Emma and the Werewolves.
However, on the bright (?) side, Jane Austen is not the only author being ravaged by monster mash ups. Apparently there is also:
The Undead World of Oz by L. Frank Baum and Ryan C. Thomas
Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and Zombie Jim by Mark Twain and W. Bill Czolgosz
The War of the Worlds Plus Blood, Guts and Zombies by H.G. Wells and Eric S. Brown
Forthcoming:
Alice in Zombieland by Lewis Carroll and Nickolas Cook
Dracula vs. Zombulaby Bram Stoker and A.P. Fuchs
Persuasion ... in Space! by Jane Austen and W. Bill Czolgosz
(Information courtesy of www.dreadcentral.com)
I'm sorry, there are no words... none that can be said in polite company, anyway.
I can't feel my toes.

Love/Hate Relationship

With the weather. The snow has gotten as close to pouring as snow possibly can. I'm watching it swirl outside the window (along with my cat who is a bit agitated by it) and I admire it's beauty. Yet, at the same time I resent its presence today. I was supposed to go hear my friend's blues band tonight, but I suspect by the time I'll be heading out this evening my town and the two towns over will resemble an arctic tundra.
The real shame is that this friend's band may be on hiatus for quite sometime because she may need surgery on her vocal chords.
*Sigh*
I will instead content myself to reading Middlemarch and watching the series finale of Robin Hood tonight. My impatience led me to watch it this summer, but on a tv instead of my computer screen and with time to process the nuances, philosophy and tragedy of the show, the second viewing of the season has been a very different experience.
Most of the country is enjoying/bemoaning the snow as well right now according to the weather map, I wish you all the best with flannel pajamas, hot cocoa, and period dramas of your own.