Christmas is different this year,
With so many friends and family missing from our table.
So many stories left untold,
Lives left unlived.
Things lost that can never be returned.
Still we sing Christmas Carols,
Wish good tidings,
And quietly pray for a better year ahead.
Ten years ago, I doubt I would have thought of myself here now,
Where I am now and who I was in that moment are markedly different.
For that, I am proud.
The me of ten years ago never thought herself worthy of time or love, stuck in those last few moments for so long.
For that, I am saddened.
Now, I have so much love, so much potential, so much drive to move forward.
To gain all those things, it took growth, leaving so much behind and learning from life lessons,
Lessons that should have never been taught so young.
I had just become an adult, and just like that, felt like nothing but a kid again.
As a kid, I had never felt truly safe in your arms,
But I stayed there much longer after you left.
Not physically, but emotionally.
I think about you a lot,
Even more so over the last few months, when everything has changed for the better.
I dread becoming like you,
I beg for a better life than you had.
I hope I do it all better.
I hope I find a better ending.
Ten years, you’ve been gone.
Ten years of growth you never got to see.
Despite all the struggles,
I still miss you, Mom.
As I head into the hardest month of every year, I’m thankful March was so productive. It flew by in a blur of homework, work, and writing, but I’m glad I was able to accomplish as much as I did.
Edit One Short Story
I didn’t quite edit a short story in the way I wanted to. Another project landed in my lap to edit, and I couldn’t help it. I actually had a deadline for this project and the edits involved with it. I can’t say much about it at the moment, but stay tuned for more updates!
Edit 4 chapters or finish the current Story Arc
This goal took up my whole month. March was definitely the month for editing the novel and the story arc and it did not disappoint. The arc took me the whole month, and five chapters instead of four, but that means I have edited half of the proposed chapters for the current project I’m editing.
NYC Midnight Screenplay Challenge
This challenge goes into April too so I’ll talk about it then. So far, working on other projects has taken precedence, but tune in next month for a better update.
Finish a Short Story from 2022
This month, writing didn’t really come as easy as reading or editing. As much as I wanted to finish this short story, it will have to be at another time. I have a direction now at least, which is always better than no direction.
Exercise
Exercising wasn’t really my top priority this month. With the rain and the strange weather throughout March, I spent more time wishing I could exercise, rather than actually doing the work and exercising. Next month, I am really hoping to get back to a decent routine and stick to it.
Journal
I journaled every day but two in March. Things have started to move forward with certain aspects of my life and my health. A few days I got too swept up in it and completely forgot to journal. I’m hoping to keep up my streak next month and do a full month and full pages for my mental health.
Reading a book series, or I suppose re-reading, sucked up a lot of my time in March. I can’t help it, I get sucked into a good book and it’s hard to claw my way out and write original things. I managed to read three books in the main series this month, which means once again, I will reach my reading goal waaaayyy before the end of the year. Now it’s time to read another trilogy I’ve been trying to read for a long time, but have always been distracted. That also means I need to update my reading goal for the year. Nothing too crazy, but I do like to have goals.
I also have good news coming, with any luck sooner rather than later now that the momentum is moving in the right direction.
Edit Another Arc of Book 1
I’ve started to like the idea of editing my novel in arcs. It’s nice to work on a few chapters at a time, make them as strong as they can be, rather than slogging through the whole novel from front to back over and over again. I’m hoping to keep editing through a few arcs and hopefully have the novel fully edited by June or July.
Camp NaNoWriMo/35K in book 3.
I’ve been itching to finish book 3 of the series for months, especially since November and NaNoWriMo when I started book three was absolute trash. Slowly, I’ve been chipping away, but I’m excited to focus on it in April during Camp NaNoWriMo.
Poetry
I’m looking forward to working on some poetry in the upcoming month. The idea struck me toward the end of March, and with it being National Poetry month, why not?
Exercise
With any luck, the weather in April will be better than the stormy stuff we had in March. I am hoping to make exercise more of a habit and less of a chore, so we’ll see how that goes.
Journal
Journaling has been getting more difficult, more dragging, so I’m hoping I find more joy in it again this month. Or if not joy, at least a place to pour out my grief as we approach the month that sucks every year.
Hopefully the month of April won’t be too rough and I can actually get some decent work done.
What are your goals for the month of April?
Thank Goodness November is finally over. I usually love November for the intense joy of writing, but this November has kicked my butt in too many ways. I’m excited we’re now in December, a brand new month, with brand new goals, but that also means the year is wrapping up. Time to get my butt in gear and finish the year strong.
Here’s how I did in my goals.
NaNoWriMo
NaNoWriMo could have gone better this year. With oral surgery, a wedding to attend, antibiotics, cough medicine and everything else that went on this month, it was a struggle to find the time and the energy to sit down and write words. At one point, I was even close to 10K behind, but I slowly started to crawl my way back and try to make a dent in the actual novel I should be working on and not all my side projects. Thankfully, the last day of the month, I crossed the finish line on multiple projects and reached the 50K mark.
Continue Edits
This month, edits were stop and go. There were a few days where I was consistent in editing, and then there were more days where I wasn’t consistent at all. Unfortunately there were a lot of zeros on my spreadsheet for editing, but I expected that with it being NaNoWriMo and all. Drafting is definitely quicker than editing and usually gives me more words. But I did learn a decent trick over the last few weeks of editing backwards and keeping the story fresh in my head. Hopefully it helps me edit more words as we roll into December.
One Short Story/Finish a Short Story
This month, I worked a little bit on everything. I started a new short story and added that to my ever-growing list of short stories for the year. I finished two short stories this month and nearly caught up in my short story per month quota. By the end of the year, I hope to have 12 short stories that I can edit next year and see where they end up.
NYC Midnight’s 250 Microfiction Competition
The NYC Midnight Microfiction challenge went well. I was able to throw it together in a few hours, right in the heat of COVID and more than enough cough medicine to kill a horse. The genre was romantic comedy and I hope I caught enough romance and comedy to make it shine in only 250 words. Now I wait for the results.
Toward the end of October, I fell down my stairs and had to nurse that back to health with a metric ton of Ibuprofen and Tylenol. Then the first week of November I had oral surgery and had a tooth removed and had to take antibiotics and narcotics (which always make me queasy), then finally the week after that, COVID finally caught up with me and kicked my ass. Toward the end of the month, when I finally started to feel like myself again after a few days off, I managed to catch up on all my projects for the month. I really found the community of writers in my local area which helped me find the final push I needed to get some things done.
For the first time, I published some of my microfiction to Medium. You can read it and follow me here.
One Short Story
I already have my idea for the short story in December. I already have a good portion of the short story from November mapped out. I’m hoping to work on both in the next month and finish my goal of 12 short stories this year strong. It’s been a really good year for short stories and I’m looking forward to adding another story to my ever-growing list.
Continue Edits
Edits are picking up again after NaNoWriMo and now that I have a direction, I’m ready to get moving and make as much progress as I can before the end of the year. I’m thinking if I spend at least thirty minutes a day doing some kind of editing, I’ll have more than I started with at the beginning of the month.
Poetry
On a whim, I signed up for a poetry competition. I’ve been looking for more publishing opportunities, and that will hopefully include poetry one of these days. The goal for the competition is one poem a day for 21 days. Either way, if I manage to get a few poems down, it’s more than what I started with at the end of the month.
What goal are you trying to wrap up by the end of the year?
The April girls are all there in Heaven,
Sitting in a cafe drinking tea.
Or maybe they’re all raising hell,
In some dingy bar.
Maybe they’re up there,
Chasing lives they wish they had lived,
Making up for the time they lost.
Maybe they’re watching over me and C,
Making bets,
Passing along the binoculars,
Always saying:
“I told you so”.
When I think about where I was two years ago (and one day), I think about how different my life was.
I think about how I was on a completely different path, one where I put another’s needs before my own.
I think about where I would be now if I had stayed on that path, if I had suffered in silence longer.
Two years (and one day) ago, before we started our adventure together, I was pretending more than I was being, surviving more than I was thriving, hurting more than I was healing.
Now, I am better.
Now I am thriving.
Now I am healing.
Growing, Changing, Building.
All of it together, with you.
You have let me build myself up, even when it’s been painful.
You have let me grow in each and every way, creatively, compassionately, brilliantly.
You’ve let me try and fail.
You’ve let me transform into who I’ve truly meant to be all along.
And I hope I have done the same for you.
I love you and I hope for more years together.
Love,
Your Bücket
The little boy soldiers rush at each other
With armor of mistakes and the pain of being alone,
Losing their only love,
Having their hearts torn from their chests.
They don’t use swords or shields,
Sharp tongues and well thought out excuses their weapons.
The older strikes first,
The first blow with the most dangerous weapon he has:
His words.
The other defends himself
Using ignorance and stupidity as a shield.
The battle continues this way,
Words and excuses,
Blows too difficult and terrible,
Deeper than any weapon could pierce.
After hours pass by in playland,
They still fight with all the energy they have left.
They fight until all energy has left them.
Both wait for the other to stand and fight,
Panting, sweating, huffing and puffing,
In agony.
They stand, knees shaking, hearts pounding.
They rush at each other,
More than mere words ready to come out.
Their blood is on my hands.
Write a poem called “The End” it cannot be about death, a break up, or the apocalypse.
When she pens the words “The End”,
It’s like saying goodbye to an old friend.
One that’s lived with her in her head,
Taken space in her home and bed.
When she writes the words “The End”,
It’s a message to the universe she sends.
Even the best of things can’t go on
Even the best writers must move on.
Move on to edits, and rewrites and more and more.
Type on bleeding fingers until the Ego is sore.
When she types “The End”,
It’s a message.
She’s ready to start again.
Ten years of friendship,
Three years of dating,
One year engaged,
It’s all lead to this:
My wedding day.
I should be ecstatic.
I’ve thought of this day since I was a child.
Six years old, playing with Barbie and her perfect specimen Ken.
Her dress was always perfect,
So is mine.
It’s the day of my dreams,
Everything is perfect.
A panic has set in.
From a few simple words,
Dripped from the mouth of a hungover bridesmaid.
“I’m glad I’m here at your first wedding.”
I try to calm myself,
She didn’t mean it that way.
But the more I think about it,
The more I:
Panic.
Most weddings end in divorce as it is.
Most couples spend thousands and thousands.
The flowers,
The cake,
The venue.
Only for it to all end in a piece of paper,
One that means the end to their love.
What if he and I are the same?
What if we’re just a statistic?
What if it’s all a lie?
A pretty lie we tell all of our friends and family
For one day,
And then nothing is the same after?
Do I dare take that risk,
Knowing it might end in
One year?
Three years?
Ten years?
Yes.
I do.
Beeps.
Ringing.
Underwater.
Pain.
Pressure.
Ringing.
Can.
You.
Hear.
Me.
Now?
…No.
This is a poem I posted on twitter in response to a podcast back in August of 2019
I want you to be proud of me,
See the change I’ve made.
I hope your heart melts
When you see me riding in,
On those white horses.
But instead,
The drifts get deeper as I drown,
In utter embarrassment.
To you,
The man I’ve known since we were children,
The one who has grown up into such a wonderful man:
With you, the days fly by in laughter and sweet kisses.
The nights glide by with sweet nothings and delicious delights,
With you, the companion of my dreams.
When we’re apart, I crave you.
When we’re together, I yearn for your smile, your touch, your laugh.
I long to be seen by you.
I long to dance with you deep into the midnight hours,
Hold you in the early mornings before the sun comes up.
I crave to be with you, even when we simply be and nothing else.
There are so many words I can try to put down,
But it will simply never be enough.
But I think you know what I’m trying to say.
I thought I got away clean.
No scars,
No bruises,
No pain,
From the damage I caused.
Too bad I was my own witness.
Now all I feel is you.
Get to know me,
I know you can.
I may look tough on the outside,
Or bored,
Or untouchable.
On the inside,
I am full of secrets.
Just look past my hardcover
To find the goodness inside.
Sometimes rules are rigid,
Hard lines, set in stone,
that should not be crossed.
Sometimes rules are limp,
As easily arranged as wet noodles,
Vague and malleable.
Other times,
Rules are set to keep us down,
Keep us in place,
Scared to fight for what we want.
Those rules,
More like guidelines,
Should be crossed.
Draw your own line.
Make your own rules.
Be who you want to be.
Nothing is ever free.
Beware the offers,
And the solicitations,
And the sales pitches,
To change your life forever.
Beware the gifts,
And the prizes,
All to “better” yourself.
They may all have free delivery,
But you pay the price,
With your individuality.
My bag is packed.
It’s sitting by the door,
waiting to be swept away,
Whenever I feel
that you and I are no longer compatible.
So say something,
Do something,
To make me believe
That I can stop running.
Give me a reason to make a home
In you,
And unpack my baggage for good.
I was fresh out of the package,
and you burned me with your influence.
Fed me your lines and your rhymes,
All in perfect time and cadence.
You marked me with your ways,
and your faults,
so that whenever I do anything,
I am reminded of you.
Your rhymes and your cadences,
all getting stuck in my head as they are tattooed on my skin.
Sometimes,
the only way to heal is to break,
shatter until I can’t hear your melody anymore.
Break and twist until I can no longer fit in your machine.
I feel I am molten,
Lava bubbling and shifting just beneath my skin,
Waiting to erupt forth in a brilliant spectacle of despair,
And rebirth.
My muscles can’t stay stagnant,
My blood courses with new vigor,
My body ready to awaken,
And create something beautiful.
Maybe you’re right.
Maybe I let go too soon,
Tapped out when I should have stayed in,
Let things go when they got too tough,
Gave up,
Gave in.
Maybe I am a coward,
For leaving,
For tapping out,
For wanting to protect myself,
For wanting to chase my own happiness,
Instead of feeling like I was stagnant and drowning.
Thank you for calling me “coward”,
I’m going to prove you wrong.
