undecided.

In 2010, I started blogging. It was the right thing to do. Before I knew it, the "life and whatnot" blog I had planned became an all-out writing blog. I met writers from all over the world, and found several handfuls of friends that I now can't imagine living life without.

I wrote. And wrote, and wrote.

And then, I stopped.

I didn't stop out of boredom. I didn't stop because of giving up. I stopped because life started to happen.

I moved to a major city, got plugged into a church I adore, found myriad new passions and ideas.

It hurts, a touch (or more than a touch), to acknowledge that I pushed writing aside. I don't want to admit that its role in my life has gone from ULTIMATE to ONE OF MANY.

Does this mean I'm no longer pursuing writing as a career? I don't know. I just really don't know. It does not mean that I'm no longer working on my craft. I still have the desire to learn how to make stories go, to the best of their ability. Make believe is still my #1 heartthrob, in all its varied forms. But, oh, what a life this is, now, to also have a #2, and 3, and probably 4.

No regrets.

why i sometimes don't make goals.

It's happened before, and it could happen again, I'm sure. The inspiration comes knocking, the whole world gets exciting. And then a limit happens.

It's completely and utterly all-in-my-head, I know. Goals are not limits. They serve different purposes.

In many ways, they are opposites, so what's going on? Why should a goal feel like a limit?

Short answer: anxiety. Addendum: guilt. And who could forget fear?

Turns out, I'm great at avoiding things that make me uncomfortable. In the past, goal-making has been wonderfully helpful, don't get me wrong. It will be in the future too, I'm sure. But there are just SOME DAYS.

I open the laptop. I announce a goal on twitter or on my writing group's facebook page. And then it all becomes ABOUT THAT NUMBER.

Let's say the number was 1000.

Let's say it's been a bad six months for writing.

Let's say I'm only giving myself today.

At this point in my situation, with my current writing brain, one of two things will happen:

• I'll get to that 1000. Oh, you bet I will. I SAID I would, didn't I? (But I will I want to look at that 1000 ever again? Will it be usable? Will there be any creative progress? Usually not, if I'm this far out of the loop. Getting back in the game requires patience, self.)
• I'll be too crippled by self-doubt to even TRY properly. I will celebrate 62 words and go eat some chocolate.

The goal, of course, is not the issue. Goals are good! You can always tell that I'm in the right place with writing if I'm making daily goals and sticking to them and actually telling people the end result (not, mind you, the opening plan).

Amusingly, let's check out my most recent tweet:

I have 3 hours before work and a whole lot of pent up words to write. PLEASE LET THEM MAKE SENSE.
— Julie Maughon (@julesmaughon) December 14, 2013

Hoo buddy, guess how much writing I actually did that day? ZILCH.

This is why my critique partners call me a hermit crab. If I don't keep certain things close to my chest at certain times, it all falls apart. And that's okay! That's what I've decided. It's OKAY to need to go about goal-making in a different way. For instance, I actually do have a LOT of writing goals, and goals for other creative endeavors. They're good. They make sense. But they're like birthday wishes.

If I tell you, they might not come true!

smiley!

So, how do I get work done at a time like this, you ask? Well, I feel like it works backwards. Instead of saying "I'm going to write 1000 words today," I might just pick up my laptop and go. A good approach for me is qualitative rather than quantitative. Two out of seven days of good 400-word scenes trumps a week-long slew of creative clutter (which is often what happens when I try to go too fast).

Write first, count later.

And of course, it's contingent on where you are. I've barely been in my story since summer, so there's a lot of picking up and brushing off going on over here. Like an archaeological dig. However, in a few more months, maybe I'll be setting up my finds for display in a museum. Or, more likely, piecing together and binding broken pots. All of these stages have different needs. No two look alike.

Important self-discovery: unless it is a purely fresh, unknown draft, I write like an anxious, caffeinated sloth with no friends.

And that's okay.

my cat is famous. but not really.

Hey everyone! Today is my birthday, and this is how I'm celebrating: sharing videos of my cat.

He and I made a guest appearance in a TSwift music video parody by my brill CP Christine. About writing! Yay!



Featuring the wonderful and cheery Jeigh!

And guys, in case you're feeling scuffled up about it... I had no idea the cat dancing would look so extreme. Bahah. No felines were harmed in the making of that video (sadly, the index card will never be the same).

Speaking of felines who were not harmed, here's Oliver being his weird self at a church community group get-together:



Yes, the old boy is a finger-sucker.

Hope everyone has a lovely June 10th. I'm going to spend it doing happy things and welcoming myself into the vibrant world of my late-twenties. Onward!

three things that happened this week.

ONE.

I answered the question, "What are you writing?" without (much) fear or hesitation. Honestly, even. It was otherworldly.

TWO.

I read a fantastic book in less than 24 hours, which motivated me to finish reading a book I started in January, which got me excited to read the next book, all of which made me feel alive again.

THREE.

A man in my Korean class told me his twelve-year-old daughter would love to be an early reader for my story, when the time is right. I tried very hard not to melt into a puddle of glee.

Oh, and I suppose there is a FOUR.

I started to own writing middle grade. Because... I think I always have been.

So. How have your weeks been?

top ten tuesday.

I'm participating in Top Ten Tuesday! Why, you ask? Well, who doesn't love blog memes?!

*cough*

What? I've been here the whole time.

*looks around* *swipes at a cobweb*

Anywho.

Five books I thought I'd love more than I did:

1. The History of Love
  This is not to say that I didn't actually really enjoy this book. I did. A lot. In fact, I recommend it. But it didn't quite leave me with the awe-and-wonder I was expecting. Maybe it was because I learned who the author was and had this, "Oh. So THAT'S why this feels like Jonathan Safran Foer." Is it weird for that to have been a let down? (It's by his wife, by the way. I don't know what's wrong with me. Maybe I got nervous about voices blending into one another?)

2. Daughter of Smoke and Bone
  Again, not at all to say I didn't like it. I loved it. This, really, is compared to the rest of Laini Taylor's books. I heart heart heart them all, but Daughter left me with this thought more than any of her others: "I don't even need to love the story to love a Laini Taylor book! That's talent." Because, I mean, come on. It is.

3. The Maze Runner
  I was maybe a little *too* prepared to love this book, and that expectation was simply not met. Still a fun read, but I had some problems with the stakes and the general what-the-crappedness in the latter half. Proud to have a signed copy, though. And I do intend to finish the series... someday.

4. Peter Nimble and his Fantastic Eyes
  Woe unto you, overly-clever middle-grade narrator! Fine line, there. And without enough for me to grab onto, character-wise (the animorphed bestie? major players not introduced until second half? does not... compute...), I lost interest. Great first chapter, though. (Let that be a lesson to us all.)

5. Game of Thrones
  Who has two thumbs and couldn't even make it through book one?

Yep.

Five books I loved more than I thought I would:

1. Wither
  I don't even KNOW, okay? I sometimes feel like I should doubt that four-star goodreads rating and turn it into a three. I shouldn't have liked this book as much as I did. At other times, I wonder if I should change it to a five. For all the issues that jerked me around early on, I can't deny how much this book had me by the second half. I should maybe... read the rest of them. Heh.

2. Days of Blood and Starlight
  Daughter may be my least favorite Laini Taylor book (which isn't really saying much, since anything of Laini's is the winner of everything), but Days is my very favorite. I read it in a constant state of awe, teared up multiple times over things that were more moving than sad (a true sign of great writing), and said "NO" out loud at least six times. Thanks to my take-it-or-leave-it relationship with the first book in the series, I was even MORE blown away. Must read again.

3. The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of her Own Making
  I delight in you, (much more well-crafted) overly-clever middle-grade narrator! Hello, fickle. The very thing I disliked about Peter Nimble is what I loved about GWCF, which is why I approached it with optimistic caution. But this one had more characters for me to love, a strong yet simple plot, and even a smattering of philosophy. Lovely all around.

4. The Raven Boys
  Won't lie, I'm pretty hot and cold when it comes to this author. I figured I'd give RB a shot on audiobook, because it's easier to burn through stories that don't hold me as much, that way. Boy, was I in for a treat. Raven Boys is not only my favorite Stiefvater novel, but my favorite audiobook, period. Will Patton made the whole thing. I was still irked by some trademark moves (iffy female protag, way way high stakes that didn't culminate into the bang they demanded), but all is forgiven under that melty Virginia baritone. I still can't stop thinking about the way he said "ley line" and "Gansey." Hoowee. I'm so stoked for the rest of this series. Audiobooks all the way.

5. The Hero's Guide to Saving Your Kingdom
  Just finished this one... ten minutes ago! I don't know why I ever doubted that I would love this book. Oh, how wrong I was! It's just about the perfect middle grade adventure. It's fun and brilliantly silly, but also grounded and a bit dark, with real stakes and consequences. I often miss that in MG. This one is a real winner.

Hurray for reading! *climbs back into that saddle* *dusts off another cobweb*

on foreign language, as an adult.

Oh, foreign language.

Confession: I was a mediocre student who, for some odd reason, chose to study Latin in middle and high school. I loved the Roman history and recluse-like translating. What a relief, to avoid practicing conversations! Perks of a dead language, I suppose. 

flat stanley digs latin, so it must be okay!

In college I took French. Took French. Did not actually learn French. Was too self-absorbed in college to learn anything. Ugh.

The only non-native language that has stuck with me is American Sign, which, like all true language experiences, I learned by having to use it. (And I love it. Highfive for ASL.)

I used to joke that I could hardly speak English, let alone anything else. The cold truth, though? I'd never tried. Not having people to speak Latin or French with effectively killed those languages for me.* Well, I guess it wasn't Latin's fault.** Anyway. What I mean is that I had more passion and excitement for learning ASL on my own than I'd ever had in a formal setting.

But now that I'm not being graded on things anymore, education has taken on a whole new light. Wouldn't it be nuts to have an experience with a spoken language like the one I had with Sign?

It really is amazing how wanting to learn new things grabs ahold of you when there's nothing to lose, no state expectation to possibly let down.

And so. I'm back in a classroom. For fun!

***

I love listening to the reasons people give for learning a foreign language as an adult. Some of them make perfect sense, like wanting to be able to communicate with relatives. Or needing to have a basic understanding before an upcoming business trip. Or, like, you know. Moving overseas.

Others are less clear. My own reasons are, honestly, hard to pin down. There is, of course, a fascination and deep appreciation for the history and culture, an undying love for the food, dizzycircles of delight for the storytelling... but I could say the same thing for other languages that I am content to know only three words of (if that).

Simply, I want to learn Korean. Or, I want to see if I can learn it. I like the challenge, not only to be back in the saddle of the spoken word, but also to make sense of a language that was, not long ago, wholly indiscernable to me. Go big or go home, right?

and, i mean, dude. the writing system is boss.

It may be partly fueled by that American guilt of only ever having needed one thing, of being born into the language that everyone else learns.

Oh, my American guilt. What a faithful motivator.

So, we'll see what this adventure holds. Tonight is our second class, and I'm loving it!

Among the many great things about DC: Cultural centers that welcome you with open arms. And Korean snacks.

:)

안녕히 가세요!

*I easily could have found people to talk to, but again. I was not the best student. I habitually opted to coast rather than excel. Growing out of this now, thankfully.
**I rag on Latin, but I feel like that older sibling who says, "No one picks on Latin but ME," because I really do think it's a great language to learn. As much as I make fun of myself for wanting to study it as a child, I can't deny that I loved every minute of it, and still have these smug moments when I realize that I understand the basic concept of an unfamiliar word without having to look it up.

what i wanted and what i got.

Been thinking about why I ran in anxious circles around my blog for months on end. Part of me doesn't think there will ever be an answer (or that I even need one), but the other part has a guess.

I really really really wanted to look professional... and so I decided to cut out everything personal or emotional and only blog about craft.   (???)

Which, you may have noticed, I haven't gotten around to.

Clearly, I was only afraid of being myself.

I am naturally on the personal/emotional end of things. This means that I am prone to gushing. I do not generally blog in advance. I suppose it's the pantser in me. My posts come in spurts. I often write about writing, anyway, because how could I not? And yet, I couldn't shake the constant, depressing tug to FIX everything about this space, to legitimize it. This personal, emotional space.

Then I became so preoccupied with "legitimacy," I felt like I was lying. As if the only options were a false me or an unprofessional me!

There is so much freedom to write about what I love, here. Who CARES if I don't join in on ALL the blogfests, or do ALL the giveaways... or have ALL the answers? My only job in this space is to ENJOY IT! Amiright?

I feel like I'm rallying the troops, here. Rally rally! Be yourself! Enjoy blogging! Smile! Professionalism has many facets, and will come naturally if you genuinely care about what you're doing.

Oh, and happy weekend!

rahrahrahrah

i feel good.

It's one of those coveted times when all I want to do is look at my blog because I LIKE it again. It's clean. Pretty. Still in progress, but established. It makes me not afraid to comment on other blogs anymore (which has kept me away for months, sadly) (I won't deny my vanity).

There are a lot of things to feel good about, in the way of updates. I killed NaNo, for one. Granted, that does not mean I've actually finished the draft yet (about 20k to go, methinks), but winning was good. Participating was good. Material was generated, and I have more to work with now that I have had in a long time.

Oh, and we moved. Yeah yeah. Again. That's two moves in 2012, three in 15 months. All told, my husband and I have lived in five different places since getting married at the end of 2009. Four cities, two states... and a district. It's true! We live in Washington, DC, all of a sudden. For a couple of kids who never moved from babyhood to college, it's been quite the wild ride.

DC is fantastic. Bizarre and huge and carved of stone, like all major cities. Quite an adjustment. But I have no complaints. DC is apparently not known for its food, but we sure can't tell. We also hear a lot of, "You live IN the District? Are you SAFE?" Yes, we're safe. DC has grown a lot in the last decade or so (as I'm told), and our neighborhood especially in the last few years. We love it.

image.

I suppose most people outside of DC don't associate it with anything but government and school trips (as I once did, before coming to visit friends instead of monuments). Rest assured, readers. This city is VIBRANT with local identity, great food, awesome churches... just to name a few things we've experienced so far. I could go on (I could always go on), but there will be more chances. Also, I've only lived here for six weeks. Heh.

Anyway. Pretty blogosphere. *pets* I missed you.

How was your 2012?

my blog is undead.

This did not happen on purpose. I didn't sit down and think, "now would be a good time to get hacked and have my blog start spamming readers about credit scores and family planning." *ugly sigh*

And yet, here I am. It happened at an appropriate time, at least. I had been questioning my relationship with blogging for months, and ho! An excuse to avoid it!

My avoidance issues know no bounds. Even starting a NEW blog didn't help.

And then I thought, a SECRET blog, perhaps? The benefits of secret-blogging were like waves of honey and amber in a moonlit forest: bad poetry that made my mouth water, anyway.

But really, I'm just being silly and I know it. I'm afraid of getting back into the social aspects of blogging, even though the social aspects of blogging gave me my crit partners, and countless other invaluable writing friends.

So, forgive me friends, for the months and months of mulling. Questions like, "Who am I REALLY? What do I want to say, REALLY? What is my platform, REALLY?" When, REALLY, all I need to do is shut up, write, and be myself.

I won't deny that I have social anxieties. I always have. I get fretty. I abandon things for months on end.

But I generally always come back.

Hello, there!

i don't know what happened...

A million trillion apologies. My blog has been selling stuff like a lunatic lately, without my consent (stupid blog). It's as if it knew, "Hey, she's going to be away from the internet for a while. Attack!"

I have changed my password, twice for good measure, and... as frustrating as it is, I will likely reactivate the "please prove you're not a robot" thing.

Other than that madness, here's what's going on:

I am in Bend, Oregon! Hello, Oregon. Gosh you're pretty (I should probably take more pictures).

Up next on the trip: Portland! Olympia! Seattle! Salt Lake City! Rexburg! Featuring the unique CP stylings of Christine Tyler and Jeigh Meredith, and a wild dance party of productivity with the Writers' Group of Joy and Awesomeness.

Oh, and there's something I should probably announce, in a few day's time. Not particularly writing-related, but still a common theme on this blog. Hint: I'm beginning to feel a bit more transient in nature than I ever expected.

Sorry again for all the dumb advice my blog felt it just HAD to share while I was driving across the country.

Cheers. :)

guys! guys! road trip wednesday!

As I sit here in my p'jams, eating pasta-from-a-pack for dinner (with a rescued OrangeLeaf spoonie-thing as utensil), I realize that it is HIGH TIME I rejoin the ranks for RTW.

total glamour.

Road Trip Wednesday is a "blog carnival" hosted by YA Highway. It's lots of fun (says the girl who always forgets to play-- oops).

This week's topic: What do you hope to be writing in one year? Three? Five?

Good question, internet.
The short answer: SOMETHING ELSE.
*snerk*

More specifically: I have reason to believe that one year from now, I will still be working on B&A, just in a different phase of the journey. After that, however, there are a lot of different things I'd like to try. I love writing short stories, and I've always wanted to develop more of those for submission and whatnot. This may come as a surprise to some (or, haha, as no surprise to others), but the work I was actually proudest of in college was a 10-minute play. (oh, be still my heart.)

So, now you know my pipe dreams. HA! Not including the current one.

As far as what I want to write about, here is a conglomerate love list (since I missed that week, too) of the ideas that are always fumbling around in my brain:

MC who feels no physical pain, but craploads of emotion
labyrinth under a woefully mundane small town
unrequited love (a popular theme from the first 2.2 decades of my life)
bonfires
glass arrowheads
red hair and brown eyes
parents genetically altering the looks of their children
Jamey Purlock, in all his glory (please find a home. I want to write you.)
girls school in American South during WWII

So... obviously not all the same story. Haha.

... OR IS IT?

No, seriously, there's no way.

I won't assign years to these things, since I honestly cannot fathom the timeline, but there you go. Whee!

*snuggles back into writing cave*

rainy day words.

Today could EASILY become a stay-in-bed-and-watch-k-drama day, but I mustn't... let it... 

*crawls to laptop* *opens document* *dies on the inside*

I will not open DramaFever. I will not. I will not. I will not even LINK to it, because I'm sparing my friends the awesomeness UNTIL THEY MEET THEIR GOALS.

*makes more coffee*

I will not go turn on the shiny-new piano. I will not. OH HOW I WANT TO, but I'm resisting. It will still be there AFTER I MEET MY GOAL.

*resumes staring contest with work in progress*

...

...

...

... What's this thing about again?

Ugh...

I miss flash fiction. It's so good for the mechanisms and the brain juice. Maybe that would help.

*searches for flash fic prompts*

*discovers THIS site*

I can write that. I can. I'll give myself 300 words (not including these 15-- hey!). I might even share it in the comments later. And this will be part one of my NEW GOAL.

Maybe you can play along.

And maybe we can keep doing these on rainy days.

For fun. And to keep each other away from bed and TV.

*opens new doc* *kicks rainy day slump in the face*

*pours you a cup of joe*

Update: This is an absurd amount of ideas for 300 words. Haha. Oops. SOMEONE GOT EXCITED. *points to self*

Christmas revelation: 2011 throwback.

image found here.

At Christmas last year, a lovely glass of Pinot Noir and some down home holiday cheer prompted me to confess writing to one of my uncles. This is the same uncle who used to tell us elaborate scary stories around the campfire every summer. It was a big kernel for Little Bird and her love of make-believe. Granted, none of us realized they were borrowed stories. Now the big joke at family gatherings is that, upon the awakening of adolescence, my cousins and I were all baffled to learn that Uncle Paul had stolen IT from Stephen King, and not the other way around.

After telling my uncle that I had written two novels (that is, a sh**ty first draft for each), he said, "That's great! *beams with premature pride* You know what I see you writing? Drama. Just a good, old-fashioned family drama."

My immediate thought: I kind of wish I was. How do you tell the uncle who introduced you to Stephen King that are you are not, in fact, writing any good, old-fashioned family dramas? It made me take a hard look at how I categorize my work. The knee-jerk label is "YA fantasy." That's what the market would call it. I don't feel any shame for this, but here's the thing:

"YA fantasy" is a just a classification. A classification that pulls me in like a magnet, but also, one that meant little-to-nothing (or, at least, not-at-all-the-same-thing) 50 years ago. At their core, don't all good stories, regardless of genre/demographic/any other definition, all come back to the play between comedy and tragedy?

You can't always go for the assumptions others make about you. I mean, why should any of us be bound by that? It's destructive. If I was bound by my grandmother's view of me, I'd have to be a genius, beautiful, social butterfly who loves everyone and everything, all the time, and is never sad. Spoiler alert: this is impossible.

But my uncle really struck a chord in me. Because after the initial shock of OH MY GOSH PLEASE DON'T ASK ME WHAT I AM WRITING (surprisingly, no one that night did), I realized...

Huh. Wait a minute. It is a family drama! Guised in a speculative world. How could he tell, without me even knowing?

Which got me to thinking about the *magic* in this story, and what purpose it serves. A good thing to consider, yeah? And also, why magic? Why fantasy?

A few findings: My characters don't use magic so much as experience it. And it is, without a doubt, the backbone of that family drama. For this story, it works. 

But, just as I can't be bound by what others think, I also can't be bound by my own blind definitions of self. A startling discovery: the VAST majority of story ideas I've been culminating since childhood are contemporary stories or magical realism. Almost all of them are dramas. Further startling discovery: my current WiP is the only flat-out fantasy idea that's ever taken up residence in ye olde cranium.

Interesting.

Merry Christmas!

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Also, this.

i couldn't resist. credit.

Bird in the box is HERE.

So. Remember this?

"When I began blogging in 2010, I had no idea what I was getting into. I didn't think I was starting a "writing blog," though that's quickly what it became.

For some time, I've felt uncomfortable splitting myself in two with every post. There's the writer me, and the pre-taking-it-seriously writer me, also known as college me, theatre me, camp counselor me, facebook me...

Now, as I do begin to take writing more seriously, I want to also take blogging about writing more seriously. Not that I can make grand promises. You likely won't be able to tell the difference between this blog and the new one. But the act of embarking, of calling out a change, and of assigning a specific portion of myself to a certain space feels VERY much like the right thing to do.

It only took signing up for WriteOnCon for me to realize (even after all those Platform-Building Campaigns-- yay!) that I didn't want to lead other writers (or, eep, industry pros) to a personal blog about nothing in particular + writing sometimes. 

Thus! Bird in the Box is born! I know I've been dormant lately (summers are HARD), but I'd love to see some familiar faces pop by the new digs. I may continue to post here, but Bird in the Box is where all the writing-related things will be, from now on. Also, I won't be offended if you decide to un-follow RwPB. Seriously. Love to all of you! I would have never come so far in the craft, as far as I have yet to go, without the help of fellow bloggers. 

*internet hug*"

Friends, I made a mistake. I've been toiling over that post ever since I wrote it. Toiling over the split. Because, at my heart of hearts, that's EXACTLY what I DO want to lead other writers, or industry pros, or even real-life friends (as scary as you are, for some reason) to. Me being Me. And there is a big part of Me that wants to blog about craft, which is something I've been afraid to do. I thought starting over would fix that, but it really only made me feel lonely and embarrassed. Why should I have wanted to change so much, so badly?

And so, yes, Bird in the Box is born. But Bird in the Box is also HERE, at birdmaughonbooks.blogspot.com, formerly rosewood pencil box. I haven't changed so much recently that I should abandon everything I was before. 

I mean, I obviously still have a thing for boxes.  :)

Thanks for sticking with me. I've a had a bit of a floundery summer. And, to echo what I said before, lots of love, and lots of thanks. I owe a metric ton of my growth to blogging. Annnnnnd now I'll stop being sappy, put on my big-girl hat, and give up worrying what others think of me.

Cheers!

(Note: I went in to edit this post, and ended up changing it entirely. Hello to everyone who commented before, both here and there. You had a lot to do with this. You're brilliant, and I love you. Okay, NOW I'm done with the sappiness.)

songs + summer :: this week's rtw.

A little known fact: August is one of my favorite months. I didn't like it much as a kid (September, either. For shame), but now I do. It's peaceful. I associate it with vacation. I'm not *on* vacation, but I'm thinking of it, so that's... something.

In celebration of summer, I'm pulling myself out of Temporary Blog Obscurity to participate in this week's Road Trip Wednesday. If you want to join in, hop on over to YA Highway and check it out.

This week's topic: What music has been your summer soundtrack?

Well. Since June began with YET ANOTHER move (as you might recall), my first anthem of Summer 2012 was this:

why am i the one, by fun.

CHEERY, eh?

And then I went to camp where, as always, I fell in love with a handful of praise and worship songs that everybody and their mom already knew, but were mega-special and brand-new to me.

cannons, by phil wickham.

revelation song, by... whomever has the least-distracting video. phillips, craig & dean, it seems (baha. did not ever see myself listening to them, but, well, here i am).

Upon returning home, I dove back into the music I'd been getting into in the spring, and discovered that I'd been glossing over an incredible song for months without realizing it. Again, FOR SHAME.

soon or never, by punch brothers.

Which got me thinking about STORY again, and brought back to light all the music I've been using as inspiration for that for the past two years. One of the more recent highlights of which is:

the peace of wild things/dayblind, by crooked still.

Holy cow. I obviously have a thing for Aoife O'Donovan and Chris Thile.

You know how sometimes authors make playlists for their books that fans get all excited about? These last two songs. Yes. That. For me. If I ever have to make one. Someday.

Oh, and to tack on last week's topic, the best book I read in July was probably A MILLION SUNS, by Beth Revis. I enjoyed it a whole Goodreads star more than AtU. In case you were dying to know.

Happy August!

you know it's been a while when...

You can't even remember what your blog looks like.

Haha.

After all that time I spent trying to make it work.

Oops.

Summer is in its fully glory here in the mid-south US. And with summer's full glory comes an unintentional but unavoidable (and, honestly, annual) blogging hiatus. In case anyone was worried.

I'll be spending most of the next month counseling at Camp Loucon, which is also where I've been the last two weeks. I wouldn't trade it for the world, but it does a number on my relationship with the internet (maybe that's *why* I wouldn't trade it... or part of why).

Lots of good things going on, writing-wise, too. Things that require time and focus.

And so, I'll be hopping off until August.

See you then!

gosh, the very thing i don't want to blog about.

We are moving. Again.

Random cat picture says:
You've got to be effing kidding me.
We just got here.

Oh, don't I know it.
But this is a good thing! And here's why (*though I am rather NERVY these days*) :

1. It's all about where/what you're moving TO, and FOR, and both are great.
   TO = Kentucky (near Lexington. And also near my home!)
   WHY = Husband got the job he's wanted since college, which is kind of a big deal.

2. The specifics of the TO are pretty epic:

THIS WILL BE MY HOUSE.
and by "this," I mean the turret.
and by "house," I mean "tiny apartment."

3. Further specifics include!

  ~ Walking distance to a cozy, nook-infested library.
  ~ Living above a STORE that sells CELTIC THINGS in a TINY TOWN in HORSE COUNTRY. I mean come on.

  ~ No more long drives to "stock up" on Ale-8. We will be surrounded by it.

  ~ Did I mention the turret? The exposed brick walls? Or the fact that we'll be living in a landmark*?

*I don't even think I'm making that up. Probably not on the national registry or anything, but seriously. Look at it. Everyone in town knows that turret. And next week, I will be sleeping in it.

4. Now is a really good time for us to be moving back to Kentucky. Camp is about to start, and I will be *that much closer.*

5. Midway (the little town) is boatloads of charming.

6. It will be a year of adventure!

7. I've made ABYSMAL progress, writing-wise, since our move to Chattanooga. A lot of that had to do with real-life stuff, but I still think the change will be good. 

And there's your update.

Perhaps I will return to all things with a vengeance?

bitterblue @ first novels club!

Hey friends. A quick hello to say, Hey! You could win a signed copy of BITTERBLUE, by Kristin Cashore, over at First Novels Club!

Gracious knows, I need all the chances I can get to not pay for books. My poor husband.

[[Tidbit: FNC was my conduit to YA and blogging, just so you know. I'm kind of here, doing this, because if what I saw them doing, over there. Good to know, huh?]]

More from me soon, I hope!

hurry scurry road trip wednesday, brought to you by thursday morning.

A brief post to finally participate in RTW (or anything at all) again:

What IRL friends can you talk YA with? (that's the paraphrased version.)

Funny, because I just figured out today that IRL = in real life. Why must that be abbreviated, internet? It's not like it's hard to type, or over-used. Is it? I don't even know.

Believe it or not, a surprising number of my real-life friends are into YA, or are at least aware and/or respectful of it. I have a whopping THREE real-life friends (from three completely different circles) that have been writing YA for years. Three! And I didn't know about any of them until I came out as a YA-writing girl, myself. Like we'd all been keeping THE BIG YA SECRET without knowing it.

As far as YA-reading friends go, well... there are a bunch of those, as well. Some have come out of the woodwork and surprised me, while others have been there the whole time. I really am lucky, I guess.

But I still don't bring up YA around certain people. It's not everyone's cup of tea.

Or maybe I'm just shy.

Happy road tripping... yesterday!

april is the wild card.

As you may have noticed, I am not participating in the A-Z blogging challenge. Sweet relief! There's no way I was gonna pull that off.

And since I've developed a false sense of no-one-can-see-me, I've switched to a font that does this blog absolutely no favors. The words are difficult to read, but they also LOOK WHIMSICAL, and let's not forget our priorities, here.

Also, no guarantee on the background. I am in IDENTITY CRISIS MODE.

MORE NEWS:

I'm in Martha's Vineyard. This morning I woke up in Boston. Yesterday we went to Maine. This weekend we'll be in Manhattan.

And I've forgotten what day of the week it is (Wednesday. It's Wednesday).

random cat picture says,
"how productive can you really be on this thing?"

Perhaps I will post something that makes more sense tomorrow (now that we have internet again).

Until then, here's some unadulterated nonsense, for all you phone-puter gaming fans:

Ah, Whale Trail.