a question for fellow writers...

What  do you do when you have an idea that's not really...complete yet?

I'm psyched about this project I'm working on. But the issue I have is that I'm not quite sure where to go. I have an idea that I think would work pretty well, but I'm hesitating because I'm not sure how it'll read.

I keep telling myself to stop thinking so much. I just need to zone in and write whatever is inside of me. The rest will come when I'm editing, right?

Any thoughts/advice from anyone? This would really help and definitely be appreciated.

Thanks!

Time to pick up the pen pt. 2

So it started last night. I picked up my journal, I sat in my living room (Jon was in our computer playing World of Warcraft or Diablo or something else) and I wrote. I decided I'm going to write to comemmorate a dear friend. I have images/ideas of what I want to write, so I'm going to get it down as much as I can.

I'm currently staring at 500 words. It's a good start. I started worrying about chapters, length, all of that stuff. Then I realized the important thing right now is to just get it all out. I need to worry about the rest later. There will be long days of editing/critiques ahead.

It will not be easy and nothing may even come of it. But at least I'm writing. This is what I wanted.

I went searching for blogs of other writers. I'm interested in what the processes are for each person. I wondered if I would come across any tips/suggestions.

There was a post I read that mentioned a lot of great points. One of them, one that struck a chord the most, had to do with reading. Writers should also be readers. Then it reminded me that I have currently 5 books started and none of them finished:

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone by J.K. Rowling
The Fault in Our Stars by John Green
Allegiant by Veronica Roth 
Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
Wicked: The Life and Times of The Wicked Witch of The West by Gregory Maguire

Most of these are series books that I was already a fan of. I wanted to revisit Harry Potter because I grew up with him and his friends (and I'm going to Orlando in May and I cannot wait to visit Hogwarts!)

I got Wicked and and the John Green novel from a friend as gifts. I've seen the musical rendition of Wicked and I was curious about the books. John Green was just a recommendation and the title/plot intrigued me.

I'm a big fan of the Divergent series (still haven't seen the movie). and I went through a whole Jane Eyre phase in high school.

So my goal is to finish each of these books in between writing. I think I'll start with Mr. Potter. I think my issue with not finishing is the same as my roadblocks with writing. I've been in a sort of depression for a time now, and I need to stop. This blog was created as a sort of therapy. I'm going to rediscover myself and everything I once loved.

Time to pick up the pen

Help. I'm in one of those creative moods again.

I've received a few journals as gifts this year. I picked one up off of the bookshelf tonight and I'm seriously considering breaking it in.

In my mind I keep going back to the same time/place/feelings of something I've been dealing with for a while. I can become very fixated on things.

I think this is where I need to start, despite being scared of where it might take me.

In other news, the boys (Jack & Emmett) are both dealing with health-related issues. There's a good chance both of them will be going to vet. Oi vey.

There's a lot going on inside of me and I just need to get. it. out.

Wish me luck.

Just Call Me "Square Peg, Round Hole"

When I was younger I used to blog all of the time. It was a great way for me to send my thoughts, ideas, secrets, whathaveyou, into the world for other people to hear. Most of the time I received feedback/support, and I befriended these people (in fact some of us still converse, even years later). Then sometimes, I didn't hear anything. It was like no one was listening.

At the time I was frustrated. How dare someone not care about what I have to say?! This may still be an issue for me, as I find myself still feeling this way at certain moments.

But looking back on my formative years, I wonder now, who would care about the ramblings of a moody, naive, antisocial teen girl?

But I wasn't just your average teen year, as much as I wanted to be.

I was a teen girl living with Cerebral Palsy.

Growing up I always struggled because I knew I straddled two worlds; I was disabled, and yet I wasn't. Anyone who knows me knows what I'm talking about:

Ok, fact: I use a wheelchair sometimes (long distances, crowded places, etc).

But I can walk, without the assistance of braces (though I could probably do with another pair, I haven't warn them since I was about 16), a walker, or crutches.

Ok, fact: I look a little funny when I walk, and I get winded easily (note to self: work on endurance, I should probably get back into physical therapy, too...)

Fact: I don't drive. It's not something I ever really picked up. Mostly out of fear due to my limitations. Now that I'm an adult, and married, working full time I realize it would probably come in handy, not to mention take some of the responsbility off of my husband (who does all the driving). But I'm still afraid. And I'm worried because more than likely I would need a vehicle that's slightly adapted for my needs, and the cost of that plus insurance is frightening to me.

But as I stated (facts): I work full time.

I am married (to an "able-bodied" man, who loves me "despite everything" -cringe-)

I went to school twice. I have a certification in Medical Office Assisting and a bachelor's of science in Health Care Management. I'm toying with the idea of a Master's degree, but this probably won't happen for quiet some time.

I do not fit any particular mold. I am neither one or the other. I am both.

And while I have to believe that people have the very best intentions, their hearts are in the right place, and all of that, I still shake my head when people will address my friends instead of me.

Case in point: I went to a basketball game recently with a friend of mine. We were meeting people.

The game was in the big city, and as you can imagine parking was damn near impossible, at least close by.

Another fact: I have handicapped license plate on my own car, I do not carry a "sticker" for the rear view mirror.

Where was the closest available lot? TWO BLOCKS AWAY.

Now, imagine a 26-year-old, out of shape, disabled-yet-not-disabled woman hobbling two blocks to a crowded venue. I had an armed escort, my friend who knows all of my "ins-and-outs" if you will.

We get to the venue and get through the doors and security checkpoint.

We show an usher our tickets and ask where our seats are.

The usher turns to MY FRIEND and addresses HER:

*points to me* "She'll probably want to use the elevator. They are right over that way."

Now, I give this guy credit for his power of observation. I'm huffing and puffing from over-exerting myself, and yes, my legs are a little bent at the knees. But I thought it was weird he addressed her and not me. Like I wasn't really there. Even though he offered her this information on my behalf. Strange.

And yeah, a little annoying.

No one is normal. I'm not going to put that definition on anyone because I think we all have our quirks. Mine are a little more apparent than others, albeit, but I'm still a person.

I'm just a girl, doing what I have to in order to live my life. I work to help support my family. I have drive, motivation, and ideas. I want to create something. I want to help shape the world around all of us. I'm trying to figure out how I can do that.

But getting out of bed and going to work every day does not make me an inspiration. I'm just doing a job, the same as anyone else.

But I have to understand that people don't understand me. I have to accept this and live with it. And when people commend me or compliment me, I smile and say thank you. And my only hope is that by being in their lives they can get to know me, and if I'm lucky they'll reach a point where they will understand.

And then maybe someone can spread the word like wild fire. That way, myself and my friends in similar situations can finally take a deep breath.

I bring this up because the same friend that went with me to that game shared a link she found she knew I would enjoy.

And Dear God, was she right!


http://thatcrazycrippledchick.blogspot.com/2014/01/explaining-inspiration-porn-to-non.html

The author of this blog and I have never spoken. We may never.

But if she should read this I want her know how much I appreciate her putting not just a blog post, but so much of herself, out there.

That is what I need to do again.

I need to write, and live my life, and be myself.

So kudos to you, Crazy Crippled Chick! And thank you for spreading the word about the rest of us square pegs trying to live within the round holes.