Writing

My life has become a crazy, confusing, chaotic, jumble of a beautiful thing. Everything has changed in the last few months, especially me. In this nameless place, my life-raft remains and sustains writing.

Sometimes all that matters is that you get some words down, even if they’re the wrong words. Write what you want, your secret fantasies, find a way to make them real, make them make sense, build a world around them and live them. Let submerging yourself in them ease the ache of living a life you wouldn’t have built for yourself. Write what you see, what you know, what you want to know. Put every beautiful thing you’ve ever seen into your stories so others see. Explain your pain so that others can feel it, taste it, cry over it. Tell a story and sweep others away with it, take them with you and show you the place you’ve built in your head.

Really you’re doing it for yourself, but readers will thank you. Build a safe space for yourself and others, a blanket fort in the livingroom of beautiful words and thoughts and feeling.

The more we write about magic the more it becomes real, don’t let it fade away. What does your magic look like?

Ask hard questions, of yourself and others. Don’t accept the easy answer! Focus on the answers, let them linger and build something in your mind, an answer or a story. Let them build words, let them build worlds. Do not run from the hard questions because they must exist or they would have never come to you. Be brave and ask, be brave and answer.

Write because it creates. Because it creates you.

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When I Write

When I was 20 years old, I was told that some day, I would write love the way people have been trying to capture it for generations.

That statement has become one with my spirit, it isn’t discouraging or overwhelming, it is driving. It is part of the fuel that keeps me writing, that keeps me awake when there is story that need written.

I never had plans of sharing my writing. I can hear the snorts of laughter and incredulity from people who have read my blogs. Yes, I’m more used to the idea now, but writing started as my Emily Dickinson time capsule.

When he said that, it forced me into the light. 13 years later, that thought has grown. More than wanting to write something that makes people feel, I want to write something that lingers. I want 1000 years from now, when we are the ancients and someone is excavating my house, for them to find my tales and feel like the person who first read Homer felt.

I want to write something that adds to what we are as a people.

I was reading a paper for a school assignment called The Sound of Ice by Tyler Lacoma and he said:

“The stories of the Eskimo peoples have collapsed beneath us. Ka-krack. All we have are pieces. Legends and tales were passed down, orally, from family to family until they grew so fragile they now crumble to dust at a glance. It’s hard to explain how this feels, until you understand that these little fairy tales are the lifeblood of a people. Who are the Greeks without grey-eyed Athena and cunning Odysseus? Who are the Norse without grinning Loki and blustering Thor? Something…but less.”

I haven’t even finished the paper (I am so relived to finally be assigned to read something in a class I actually like so far) but I feel the weight of words that feel like a mission statement…. And I wrote a quick short story in Seraphim City, the first in months.

I should be doing homework but this is better.

The Search for the Right Artist

Well, it is now week 4 of the hunt for the perfect artist to join the Seraphim City team. I honestly had no idea how involved this would be. As before, my requirements were; nice, talented, and local. I can’t really see myself handing my “baby” over to someone who can’t sit across from me, share an intelligent conversation and get excited about the projects potential (yes I want anyone who would join up to come to comic con with me!) Meanwhile, my faith in humanity has taken a bit of a bruising with last minute cancelations, creepy inquiries, ridiculous price tags and people who just plain can’t follow basic instructions.

Thankfully, I feel like the search is at an end and I’m hoping that by the beginning of next week I will be announcing our new artist. Not having an artist has greatly deflated the fun of blogging and my writing on every level. It is only the passion and faith of my family that has kept me going through this setback. At the end of the day though, I have committed to making Seraphim City a reality through this blog and the graphic novels that will come into being! Thank you for your patience!

Jill

Remembering the smartest thing I ever said…

They say that anything worth having comes with a cost, usually in blood, sweat, and tears. But let’s be honest and add money, time, and heartache to that list.

I want the stories of Seraphim City to come to life, but the obstacles are stacking up. The most recent bump in the road has made me heart sore and I’ve lost my zest and joy for posting about it.

With that in mind, I remembered the smartest thing I ever said; two years ago my gf was upset about the turns life had taken and I said:

“It is not about being “derailed” in your life. Derailed means a train with neat tracks, built years before with clear and easy starting points and destinations. You are a mother, there is no train to drive you through life!
You are riding a Yak, through a tropical rain forest, there are no roads and the Yak disagrees with your life choices. This is your life, embrace the yak! ”

It is still completely true but I still feel defeated. I’m gonna stare at the yak photo for a little while and hopefully it will propel me forward, even if it does disagree with me…

Jill

Men have called me mad…

Has this ever happened to you?

“You live in other worlds?” Laughing mockingly. “What is wrong with you?”

This was a classmates response to me wanting to be a writer in highschool. Annoyed I retorted “No I create other worlds.”

Nowadays almost everyone is a writer of some sort, but there is a special look reserved for the poets and fantasy fiction writers. Yeah we are all weird and fly that geek flag high!

“I AM come of a race noted for vigor of fancy and ardor of passion. Men have called me mad; but the question is not yet settled, whether madness is or is not the loftiest intelligence — whether much that is glorious- whether all that is profound — does not spring from disease of thought — from moods of mind exalted at the expense of the general intellect.” Edgar Allan Poe

Jill

The Vendors of Comic-Con

Last Sunday was My First Comic-Con. It was a really great time and I’m really looking forward to the day when Seraphim City has a table there too. The vendors were a great array of characters. I have been to a ton of flea markets and Renaissance Festivals and it was as though the types of vendors were mixed together. There was:

1) The Bored – “This is my 8 millionth event and I am not impressed by your costume you spent 6 months on! I’m not gonna even get up from my chair to wait on you; bring your item and money to me or I’ll throw bobble heads at you!”

I swear some of those vendors actually live at the convention center, they had so much equipment I can only imagine how much work it would take to pack up again. Those old-hat vendors were usually polite, but the wonder of the event was obviously lost on them, they didn’t get excited about the costumes or make polite conversation with the customers.
2) The Grouchy/Desperate – “Dear please god buy my shit as I glare and get weird when you won’t take the merchandise I’m trying to hand you!”

There was one in particular that completely weirded me out. First of all, I was drawn to the table because it featured Victorian style clothing, which was what I was wearing. I already had my outfit but for some reason they (all 3 people behind the table) kept trying to hand me dress accessories. I was wearing a top hat and vest, not a dress and I am not a dress person at all! They tried to hand me lacy gloves, a dress cape and even some blingy costume jewelry and when I wouldn’t take the items it quickly got awkward. They didn’t want to talk about working the con or what got them into Victorian and other costume ideas, they just wanted us to buy.

3) The Conspiracy Theorist – “I care less about selling you things and more about the failure of earth’s engineers to terraform other planets so we can uncrowd our plant, you agree with me don’t you? You haven’t walked away yet so I’m gonna take that as an invitation to keep on talking!”

Luckily I wasn’t the one to get caught by the vendors at this table, but my friend and girlfriend did! She was selling very pretty watercolor pics and they stopped to look. The vendor began talking at them as though it was already the middle of the conversation, there was no build up to, just instant conspiracy theories. “6 billion people is just too many for our planet to support, don’t you agree?!” It became so insane, they just started smiling and nodding while trying to walk away. Definitely a fond memory.

4) The Once Famous – “Yeah that was me in that black and white movie years ago which makes me awesome, so buy my book that has nothing to do with that movie!”

I have watched a lot of movies, a lot. I have never seen the movie he was talking about, nor did I actually stop at his table, I glanced over to see what he was selling and then he pounced, telling me within the space of time it took to walk the length of his table I’m pretty sure he told me his life story and was ready to hand me a gift wrapped book!

5) The Passionate Collectors – “I have a real job and no responsibilities, I’m just here to chat with the interesting people and sell the rejects from my person collection.”

This guy was a great time. So from what we could tell, he was single, had a great paying job and just spent all of his free time and money buying Star Wars collectibles. His table was covered with what he called his “Extras”. Yes, he had three tables (one commandeered) covered in purely his duplicate items and things he had bought to steal pieces off of to make his main collection better. I can’t even imagine how much stuff he had at his house!
6) The Comfy – “Sure it would be nice if you bought from me because my stuff is good quality and interesting, but it’s cool and I love your outfit, come and see me again!”

This kind of vendor was my favorite. One in particular that stood out was a candle vendor who had the most creative scents, all in soy candles. (My girlfriend has a thing for soy candles). One of the scents was 221b and smelled how she thought Sherlock Holmes’ apartment would smell, and she wore the traditional Sherlock hat! She was one the few vendors who seemed more interested in chatting, soaking up the ambiance, having a good day. This is the kind of vendor I want to be when I grow up!

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So many entertaining people! The Con was a great time and the colorful and eclectic just made it even more fun!

Jill