The Pointless Journey of Self-Discovery

About once a week I have an epiphany. An "ah-ha!" moment where I discover some aspect of myself that was previously hidden from me. You'd think at that rate, I should have a pretty good grasp on who I am. And that would probably be true, if I would quit changing.

See, as we become more aware of certain traits in ourselves (and sometimes even traits in others), we adapt to embrace or reject that trait. (I think that might be the royal we.) For example, I've known for a long time that I'm a perfectionist. I could either embrace that aspect of myself or I could reject it. What did I decide? Um. Still working on that.

No, this isn't my arm. I'm not that hairy.

But I have decided that I'm going to quit trying to "find" myself, because once I do, I inevitably flit away again. Maybe that means I'm wishy-washy, but I prefer to call myself malleable.

I'm the type of person (most of the time) who will try anything once (the exception being something stupid or dangerous or both). Because of this, I find and gain interests at a rapid pace. I pretty much like everything, actually. I like politics, science, mathematics, English, poetry, foreign languages, crafts, mechanics (though I pretend ignorance so my husband doesn't actually make me change my own oil), dancing, music (ALL KINDS), crocheting, typing, puzzles, writing, gardening, fishing (surprise, surprise), exercising, running, shadow-boxing, painting, baking, cooking, drawing, etc. I could go on and on. In fact, most of the time I feel a bit overwhelmed by all my interests and will find myself torn over which ones to pursue. (You ever heard that song by Terri Clark, "I Wanna Do it All"? That's totally me. But at the same time that I have all these diverse interests, I'm hesitant to share them with people for fear of coming across as less than knowledgeable/talented/experienced. Why? Must be the perfectionism kicking in.

But I'm slowly becoming okay with my wishy-washiness, my scatter-brained eagerness to discover and learn and try more and more things. Now, if that perfectionist side of me would only get with the program and let me crow about my interests without fear that someone will come along and call my efforts pathetic.

What are your interests? Any that you've recently acquired?

Tired of Being Superwoman

I'll admit, I'm not a huge fan of the holidays. The commercialism, the politically-correctedness (is that a word?) of it, just makes me nauseous. I seriously want to go hermit and hide October through November.

Granted, there are things that I DO like about the holidays: Christmas carols, pumpkin pie, family gatherings, old movies, cold nights and hot chocolate, snuggling with your spouse. But anymore those things tend to take the back seat to the constant rush of the season. It's all about shopping lists and late-night baking frenzies and long trips to see people you're not even sure if you like.

Sigh.

Piling all this seasonal pressure on my already over-full schedule is just a disaster waiting to happen. I feel it today, especially. The day before Thanksgiving, and instead of ruminating on all the joys of Thanksgiving and all the things that I'm thankful for, I'm worried about cooking and schedules and resenting the fact that we have to go to my in-laws when all I really want to do is spend all day noshing at my parents' house (and I love my in-laws, I really do . . .but, well, they're not family-family). It's been all about compromise for me. And you know the thing about compromise: it never makes you happy.

So, I'm not all that happy. I'm stressed, is what I am. Fracturing, truthfully. About to blow my top. Every spare moment of my time has been dedicated to racking up the volunteer hours I need for the class I'm taking, and while I enjoy volunteering it's a far cry from the relaxing "me time" I need to keep my sanity.

Honestly, if it weren't for running, I would probably have gone crazy a week or so ago. But running keeps me sane. If it didn't take so much of my energy, I would probably be happy as a clown right now. But, well, running can be HARD (especially when you push yourself to go faster, further and harder each time, like me) and it makes me tired. And everyone knows (or soon will) that a tired Brandi equals a I-want-to-rip-your-eyes-out Brandi. Never good.

In order to keep this from happening (and destroy the "oh, she's such a sweet person" impression that my in-laws have of me) I'm going to take tonight off. Just me, the hubby (who'd better cooperate and be nice to me), the furry babies and some trashy movie that makes me laugh. Maybe some hot chocolate, too.

That will certainly give me a few things to be thankful for (like having the state-of-mind not to attack people for no reason).

Happy Thanksgiving!

Revamping

So, it's been a while.

I keep popping on here to write thoughtful and interesting tidbits on writing and reading, and then I stop. Either discouraged or bored by my own ramblings, and fade quietly back into the blogosphere. I still read blogs. Quite a bit, actually, but I rarely, if ever, comment on them. It probably makes my online friends feel like I don't care (or that I've died), but I do (and I'm still alive). I just felt like I was stagnating, regurgitating the same old things (cursings and musings) over and over. I felt unoriginal. I didn't feel like a very inspiring or even interesting person, let alone a writer.

Therefore, I stopped doing the whole blogging thing because, well, I couldn't handle the pressure of constantly coming up with a new, sparkling idea. Instead, I threw myself into a personal blog (which is private) and basically blogged about anything and everything that popped into my head. But since it wasn't writing related, I thought that it wouldn't be a good fit for this blog.

And then I had an epiphany. Why does this blog have to be just about writing and reading? Why can't it be about ME? I mean, I'm not anyone special or particularly exciting, but I'm sure a few of you might find my quirks interesting. And, believe it or not, I can be humorous and witty and even knowledgeable on some occasions.

So here I am. Back. To revamp Cursings and Musings and retake it for my own. This blog is going to reflect me from now on, and I'm an ever-changing, organic person. Are you ready for it?

Really Bad Poetry

I've recently posted some of my poetry on Deviantart.com. (Yes, there goes my dream of actually getting paid to write drivel.) I claim to be a poet, but I never said that I was a good one.

Enjoy.

For the Hell of It

Lately, I've found myself writing for just the hell of it. Or, to put it more nicely: Just writing to write, to have fun, create, explore, etc.

It's been a long time since I've done that.

It's been a long time since I've written something that was just for my own pleasure. A long time since I've wrote something without worrying how my critique partners would react to such-and-such.

It's nice.

It's freeing.

It makes me wonder why I ever stopped.

Oh, I've been writing. I've been revising, too. But a lot of the time I've felt stifled or constrained. I've always had to abide by rules and suggestions and the worry if the story I was writing was publishable or not.

It's wonderful to not care sometimes.

And maybe MY story is complete crap. Maybe it is unpublishable junk rife with cliches and filler words and too many adjectives. BUT IT IS SO LOVELY. It makes my heart sing. It reminds me that THIS--the process of just putting raw words on paper--is why I write. THIS is what I've been struggling these past months to regain. To write just to write. To write just because. To write, write, write and no longer CARE that so-and-so editor/agent/critique partner might not like it.

You should try it sometime.

Because . . .

Sometimes we need that reminder that we're not alone in this. That we need to keep trying.

A truly inspiring tale about rejection.

Monday Madness: One More Time!

You know how to tell when a writer is lying?

When they say, "Oh, yes, I'm on my final revision."

Or maybe it's just me.

I SWEAR that it's not just the perfectionist in me changing my mind halfway through said revision. Sometimes, it's not until you fix the little things, that you see that something bigger might need a polish. Or a rewrite. Love the rewrite. Embrace it. Buy it flowers.

I seriously did think that DRAGON QUEEN was almost ready; that I had finally reached the "final revision stage". And then in the process of changing one thing, I toppled the dominoes and got myself into a huge MESS of rewrites.

I'm at the dizzy, passionate phase of revising right now (as in, it's actually been gratifying and fun and exciting to see how much stronger my story is getting), but I know soon that I will tire out and be whimpering for mercy. But for now, it's great. Flowers everywhere!

For those of you who are rolling your eyes and muttering, "She's never going to be done with this story!" let me assure you that I'm doing the revisions correctly this time. I am not making significant plot or character changes, I am just amplifying what was already there, but was perhaps glossed over in an attempt to get the story out the first time (or second time, or third time) through. Relationships and characters are being fleshed out. Foreshadowing is being utilized. It's, really, just awesome how much these "little" things are making such a big difference.

And MAYBE after this, I will honestly be able to say that I'm on my final revision. And that makes me all tingly inside.