The End of November

Welp, November's over, and I didn't finish my novel.

I'm sort of disappointed, but..... it could have been worse. At least I've surpassed my final word count goal, so as soon as I update my count in an hour or so, I'll get all the goodies and back-pats the site awards. And really, when I think about how much more needs to happen before I'm done telling the story, I get rather excited, because I realize that this book could end up being forty or even forty-five thousand words, which is practically a publishable length! HOORAY FOR CREATIVITY!!!!!

And I'm definitely going to finish it. I'm not the sort of person who leaves things unfinished. But I'm probably going to take a break of a week or so, because these last few days have been a bit brutal. I've been pushing myself hard, trying to finish, trying to at least hit my goal. It hasn't helped that I am very self-critical, and I feel that the quality of my writing has been steadily decreasing as the month goes on. I suppose you could say things like this aren't supposed to be easy, and that struggles makes achievements all the more rewarding, and I'll totally listen to you. After a short writing hiatus.

For now, my new mission is going to be awakening my Christmas spirit. Tomorrow I'm going to go and see Frozen (Disney's new animated movie), which isn't technically a Christmas movie, but it does feature a lot of snow. And then I'm going to decorate Christmas trees with Christmas music on full volume, and before long I'll be watching White Christmas and How the Grinch Stole Christmas and The Toy That Saved Christmas and all the other Christmas movies my family owns. In addition, this year I'm planning on watching It's a Wonderful Life for the first time ever (in case you couldn't tell, much of my Christmas feeling is wrapped up in media, and I see absolutely nothing wrong with that) (I also read Christmas books, like Raphael and the Noble Task, which is an insanely good book that is criminally difficult to find).

So off I go to utilize my final hour of November before I plunge headfirst into December-induced Xmas madness. Have a wonderful December, everybody!

Sincerely,
Pearl Clayton

Random Thanksgiving Musings

Every year for as long as I can remember, my family has spent Thanksgiving morning watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. When I was littler, we would have strange pastries called butter braids for breakfast as we watched. They were composed of flaky crusts encircling fruit or cream cheese centers, topped with drizzles of frosting. And, although I never liked any of the fillings, I ate them gladly, because the frosting was delicious, and because it was tradition.

Nowadays, we eat cinnamon rolls and doughnuts for breakfast as we watch instead, and that's not the only thing that's changed. My childlike enjoyment in the parade has vanished. Either that, or the quality of the parade has steadily decreased (which is an entirely valid possibility). Whatever the case, I am now mostly bored by the endless stream of floats I've seen before ridden by boring pop stars lip-synching to tinny, auto-tuned, and horrifically generic songs, and the balloons..... they're big, and some of them are impressive, but I see nothing special in them. The past few years, including today, I've only stuck around to see Santa, the only part of the parade that for me has remained magical and majestic. He gets me into the Christmas mood and brightens up my day every year.

Now, here's an interesting fact about me: I stay up really late every night. Like, really late. It's hard to explain why. There are various reasons. The point is, being homeschooled, I can usually also sleep in late. But today I got up at 9 to watch the parade. And, after two and a half hours of unbelievably boring genericness, I was feeling tired. So I decided to close my eyes for a minute, assuming that my dad and sister would tell me when Santa showed up.

They didn't.

I slept through Santa.

I almost cried.

Thrice.

It wreaked havoc on my mood. All the holiday spirit I had amassed while watching the parade melted away in a second. I already hadn't really wanted to go to the family-and-friends face-stuffing party we were attending, and now I wanted nothing better than to just stay home. But I went, because I didn't really have a choice in the matter. For quite a while, I went through the motions, eating a little and participating in boring conversations (an exhausting exercise for us introverts even at the best of times).

And then, when we were all sitting around the table after dessert, something amazing happened.

I got into a fandom discussion with a friend of my mom's and a twenty-year-old guy whom I had never spoken to before.

We talked for I don't know how long, covering gobs of stuff: Doctor Who, Merlin, Star Trek. Much to my shock, I even discovered that they're both familiar with my primary fandom, Mystery Science Theater 3000 (MST3K), which I've always considered to be quite obscure (if you've never heard of it, you should go look it up right now) (and also RiffTrax, which is basically a revamping of it). The guy and my mom's friend briefly discussed Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which I've never watched but might just have to now. We vainly tried to explain what we were talking about to my grandpa, who was thoroughly lost but still kind of trying to participate. I felt animated. I felt excited. I felt better than I'd felt all day.

I felt thankful.

I'll freely admit it; despite being a Christian and having been one all my life, I've had my moments of skepticism when reading stories of divine intervention and providence and God's hand guiding every moment of our lives. I mean, acting in the big things, sure, but in recent months I've tended to raise an eyebrow at the thought of God getting involved in minor, day-to-day events. But this has got me thinking: maybe it's all still true. Maybe God sends little sorrows and disappointments into our days because such things make the little happy discoveries and moments of rejuvenation feel all the more fulfilling.

If it is true, God certainly enjoys being unpredictable. If I had thought anyone was capable of making my day end well and giving me a few ounces of holiday cheer, I would never have guessed it would be my mom's college friend and the nerdy son of my grandparents' acquaintances.

So..... today, I am thankful for happy surprises.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

~Pearl Clayton 




   

So, About NaNo

Hello.

I'm sure you all remember (or at least, I hope you all remember) that I'm participating in NaNoWriMo this year. I know I promised excerpts and other updates and that this post is long overdue. I've been kept reasonably busy by school, and last week my computer was infected by a virus, which left me unable to access my document for a couple days (not to mention a little freaked out and slightly unwilling to continue working).

Despite everything, my manuscript is currently almost 21,000 words long (YAY ME!), and I have ten whole days left to work in. If I get about 1,000 words a day (fingers crossed) I'll hit my wordcount goal, which is very exciting. At this point I think my biggest concern is that I won't be able to finish the story by November 30th, but hey, I can continue working after the month's over. All in all, I'm feeling pretty confident.

But enough about my concerns. You probably want an excerpt. Well, it took me a while to decide what section I wanted to sample here, but after some deliberation I decided I might as well be horribly vain and upload the section where I introduce the character who's loosely based on me. She's actually barely in the book, but this should give you a feel of my writing style and the basic traits of the main characters. Feedback is very welcome as long as it's not too dream-crushing. I hope you all enjoy! (Oh, by the way, it's not specified in this excerpt, but Beast is a horse.)

Her eyes fixed on their hiding place, and slowly she smiled. “Greetings, travelers,” she said genially in a wavering voice. “Please, come in. It’s not often we here receive visitors.”

            Slowly, reluctantly, Aliss emerged from her place in the trees despite Lutroft’s attempts to stop her. Beast followed Aliss, and Lutroft was forced to accompany them, although he hung back warily, his eyes skating over the strange creature that had beckoned them.

            Aliss was shocked by how young she was. From a distance, her unsteady stance and soft voice had made her appear elderly, but she seemed to be barely older than Aliss. Aliss expected her to shy away from Beast, like most people did, but instead she gasped excitedly upon seeing him, quickly approached him, and gently placed her hand on his nose. And rather than unceremoniously tossing his head to dislodge her hand, as he normally would have, Beast kept still, allowing the strange girl to stroke his head.

            “Such a fine creature,” the girl murmured. “Which one of you does he belong to?”

            “Her,” Lutroft said quickly.

            Aliss smiled. “He doesn’t really belong to anyone. But I suppose you could say I’m the one he listens to.”

            “Lucky girl,” the stranger said, smiling. Aliss noticed that, while the girl’s accent was Sineergian, it sounded somewhat forced. Still not looking at Lutroft or Aliss, she asked, “What brings you into the forest on this fine day?”

            “We’re trying to get to Istengil,” Aliss explained, ignoring Lutroft’s violent headshake. She could tell from his expression that he’d also heard the strange falseness in the girl’s inflections.  

            “Well, you’re again lucky,” the strange girl said. “You’re only five days away. Four if you ride this beauty.” With a final approving stroke, the girl finally turned away from Beast and sat down beside the fading fire.

            “Oh, that’s wonderful!” Aliss exclaimed exultantly. “Isn’t it, Lu?”

            “Why is your head covered?” Lutroft asked suddenly. Aliss shot him a disapproving look.

            “My dress is my business just as your dress is yours,” the girl replied, keeping her attention on the fire. “Would you like to stay and breakfast with us?”

            “Perhaps,” Lutroft answered before Aliss got a chance to accept. “What’s wrong with your eyes? And who’s ‘us’?”

            “Lutroft, really,” Aliss scolded. But inside she had been wondering the same things. There was nothing immediately unsettling about the girl’s eyes, except for the fact that they were blue, and of all the people one might expect to come across hiding in a wood, a noblewoman wasn’t even on the list. Yet somehow, beyond that, there was something else, something… off. And while Aliss thought it was safe to assume the girl was including the person in the makeshift house in her statements, that person wasn’t necessarily the only other one around.

            Turning her gaze on Lutroft, the girl gestured toward the shelter and replied, “Us is me and my friend, Erykah, who is resting at the moment. And to answer your other question, there’s nothing wrong with my eyes.” Here she stood and walked up to Lutroft. “My eyes are as just as good as those deep brown orbs you and your friend have-” she stopped abruptly. She’d turned to face Aliss as she spoke, and now she froze, looking at Aliss as though she hadn’t seen her before. Cautiously, the girl stepped over to Aliss and reached up, as though to touch Aliss’s eyes.

            “Inme tatago,” she whispered reverently. “Look at you.” A smile played at her lips as she finished, “You’re a Neer.”

            “And you’re a Llenyen,” Lutroft said harshly, stepping forward and yanking back the girl’s hood. From it her hair tumbled loose, long and thick and coppery red. And in that moment Aliss realized what was wrong with the girl’s eyes: they weren’t deep blue like the common noblemen’s or icy blue like the eyes of royals. They were in between the two shades, a soft, steely blue, almost gray.

            For a moment, the girl stared at Lutroft in blank shock. And then, suddenly, she began laughing.

            “Ah, yes, woe is me,” the girl said, her voice having lost its Sineergian accent and slipped into a Llenyen lilt. “You Sineergian folk have such clean blood. You’re all either blond or brown-haired, depending on your station. You’ve never blurred class lines enough to create variety of appearance. Someone like me has no hope of blending in.” With that, she proudly released the rest of her hair and arranged it carefully on her shoulders before asking, “Well then, Sineergian boy, are you going to kill me just because my hair’s prettier than yours?”

            “What are you doing in Sineerg?” Aliss asked quickly, before Lutroft could say anything.

            The girl scoffed. “What do you think?” she shot back. “We’re running away.”

            “From what?” Lutroft queried.

            Looking at him a bit bemusedly, the girl said, “Stay and breakfast with us and I’ll tell you.” Seeing Lutroft’s hesitation, she added, “I won’t poison it, I promise.”

            “We accept,” Aliss answered for them.

            “Excellent,” the girl said. “I hope you two have food, because we certainly don’t.”

Sweet Sixteens: Spindles and Stons

Where did the idea of a "Sweet Sixteen" originate, I wonder? What is so special about the sixteenth birthday, specifically in the life of a girl? Has anybody else ever wondered about this? I feel like fifteen makes more sense as a special birthday, because it's right smack in the middle of the teenage years. Or, if whoever came up with this idea desperately wanted the phrase to be alliterative, why not Sweet Seventeen? What's so special about sixteen? And, most importantly, did this idea spark or spring from the fact that sixteen is the most famous fairytale princess age ever?

You should know who I'm talking about based on this post's title: Aurora. Briar Rose. Sleeping Beauty. My favorite princess when I was little. Whatever you want to call her. On the eve of her sixteenth birthday, she pricked her finger on the spinning of a spindle wheel..... wait..... am I saying that right? Oh, who cares. She pricked her finger on the spinning of a spindle wheel, and DI-- fell into a deep sleep. Maybe for one hundred years. Maybe for about two days. It depends on whom you ask.

Disregarding the whole spindle/deep sleep incident, she really had a pretty sweet sixteenth birthday. There was fireworks and dancing, she finally got to meet her parents, there was a boy and a first kiss involved..... What more could a teenage girl want?

As it turns out, a lot more.

Like, a whole Dark murderous World of more.

At this point, you're probably wondering what made me want to write about Sweet Sixteens (well, actually, I doubt you were, but for the sake of my narrative flow let's assume you were). Well, I'll tell you: last Friday my best friend in the whole wide world turned sixteen. She hosted a massive party with all sorts of illustrious and borderline crazy literarily-minded guests. We played one of those murder mystery dinner games where anybody could be the murderer and everybody's trying to solve the crime (I was the murderer, by the way, so, um, fear me and stuff). There were no fireworks, there was very little dancing, and absolutely no mention of boys except those of the famous and/or fictional variety.

Then, on Thursday (or perhaps I ought to say Thor's Day), she received her birthday gift from me. It was pretty low-key.

Sorry. Bad pun.

Moving on.

Yesterday, Thor: The Dark World was released in theaters. But we saw it on Thor's Day as part of a 3D marathon that included the first Thor movie and The Avengers. We laughed, we fangirled, we cried internally, we fangirled, we ate popcorn, and above all we fangirled. It moved us. After all, the first two movies were as amazing as they ever were, except that they were better because they were in 3D, and The Dark World..... gourd. It was..... just, oh my gourd. Fantastic. Marvelous. (See what I did there?) I still have a Dark World high. I can't stop thinking about it. I keep thinking about Tom Hiddleston and Christopher Eccleston (they're the Stons mentioned in my subject line). Hiddles I've loved since the first Thor movie. Eccles I've loved since Doctor Who, maybe even before that (I'd seen him in two movies before I started watching DW). Seeing them both, hearing their voices..... and the special effects..... and Hemsworth's glorious Thor voice..... and the storyline..... and the comedy..... and..... just GOURD.

See, get it, it's Jerry Gourd and he looks surprised, so.... I keep saying oh my gourd..... because I'm..... surprised..... oh, alright, fine, I'll stop with the wordplay.

Anyway, it's gotten me thinking: what has set us apart? Why is it that most girls want big girly parties when they turn sixteen, and we want murder mysteries and superheroes, clues and Christophers (did I mention that Chris Evans has the most wonderful cameo in the history of cameos in the Dark World? 'Cause he does), friendship and fangirl spasms? Why is it that, in a room full of fanboys who actually read the comic books and girls who came just because Chris Hemsworth is pretty, it felt like we were the only two literally gasping for air? Is it a birthright or the way our parents raised us? Or has God (you know, the one God who doesn't dress like that) (kudos if you get the reference) just chosen to bless us with marvelous nonconformity?

I've got to start planning my sixteenth birthday now. I've only got six months. (Insert smiley winking face.) Unfortunately, I don't know of any amazing movies coming out around it. I guess I'll have to think of something else. Something random. Something unexpected. Something that's never been done for a Sweet Sixteen before. Mystery. Magic. Music. Marvel. Mayhem.

Spindles and Stons.

~Pearl Clayton