November Update

November was a busy month. Here's all I accomplished:

Writing-

FINISHED WRITING MY ROUGH DRAFT!!! I finally completed writing out my manuscript (appx. 66,000 words) at the beginning of the month. (Confetti! Cake! Loud noises!)

I also read through and edited said manuscript several times and have now sent it off for review by some fellow readers (I expect more editing to come).

Wrote some poetry and short stories.

Organized and mined my old journals for ideas.

Authored several "tips and tutorials" posts for my blog.

Art-

Drew some illustrations for my poetry and uploaded them to the computer.

Organized photos.

Started an 11"x14" charcoal drawing of two crows.

Here's what you can look forward to in December:

I will not be able to work on my writing while it is being reviewed so expect more poetry, short stories, and artwork.

I have specific plans to include a post on how to make ink from coffee and show you how to draw Seattle with it (should be fun). I also expect to finish more illustrations and artwork I've been putting off. Quite possibly I will also start a large canvas painting (I'm leaning towards a space theme, though I may change my mind).

Expect more "tips and tutorials" posts to come.

--Thanks for following!

Reacting to Your Own Writing

There are essentially two reactions you will have to reading your own writing:

1. This is the worst trite ever conceived and it should be ceremonially burned or

2. I am pure genius and they will write essays on my work in high school.

Often you will flip-flop between both extremes, and never believe something in the middle. Which is unfortunate, as most often the truth lies somewhere in-between those two sentiments. So how should you feel about your own writing?

It's best to have a healthy amount of belief in your abilities, but at the same time you should be open to improvement. My only advice then is this: do as well as you can and then hand it to a group of trusted individuals to form opinions for you.

The truth is, you as the author are too close to your writing to be objective. The jokes are no longer funny, the plot is no longer original, and the characters are no longer inspiring. You're just not going to see the flaws anymore, or the highlights.

So don't be too hard on yourself and don't believe you can stop trying to get better. Get it reviewed. It doesn't even have to be done by a professional. Just get feedback from a good sized group who will make you feel good but also tell you the truth. It's one of the hardest things to do and also one of the best for your writing.

Print it out. Post on social media. Start a blog. Show it to strangers and show it to friends. And when your turn comes, be willing to do the same for them.

The best reaction to your writing is somebody else's.

More Photographs

Ellensburg, Washington (Cow, Scottish Highlander)

Mount Rainier, Washington

Mount Saint Helens, Washington

Ocean Shores, Washington

Iron Goat Trail, Washington

Ruby Beach, Washington

Seattle, Washington (Gas Works Park)

Mount Rainier, Washington

Near Denali National Park, Alaska (Kissing Crows)

Short Story: Pizza Mix Up

One time while I was still in school my mom made me order pizza on the phone and pay for it. This was part of her ongoing effort to make me a Responsible Adult. TM

Now, I hate talking on the phone. It is the worst. I don't know if it's because I can't see the other person's facial expressions and body language or what, but the whole thing fills me with dread every time the ringer goes off. Or when I call and get voice mail. Or a phone tree. Or a person. Basically any phone interaction.

So I felt some trepidation when my mom made it pretty clear that it was going to be up to me to order our pizza. We had no dinner plans that night and there was no way out of it. So after mentally rehearsing what I was going to say a few times, I finally called the pizza place and placed my order. And it went surprisingly okay. I was pacing the whole time and speaking with my "mousy voice" but I got the pizza ordered and told them our address, 17811 Skippy Lake Boulevard. I was just relieved I'd managed to do it without bungling things.

A half an hour later, ding dong! the pizza man was there, some fresh faced teenager like myself holding two pepperoni pizzas and a liter of root beer. I said hello, he said hello, then "seventeen eighty-one please."

"You're at the right place," I assured him.

Long silence, blank stares.

He narrowed his eyes. "That's seventeen eighty-one."

"No, that's the right address," I repeated, wondering why he was missing the last 'one.'

More staring, and things were starting to feel uncomfortable.

It suddenly occurred to me then, that perhaps this young man was not unsure of himself, and in fact, the last 'one' was not missing because there was a silent decimal and dollar sign hovering in his '17-81.'

Without a further word, I handed him a twenty, grabbed the pizza and pop, and fled back into the house without bothering about change.

Just goes to show, even if you get the one thing you're stressing about right, there are bountiful opportunities for confusion.

Archived Unfinished Projects

These are projects that, for various reasons, I never finished and probably never will. Some of them are interesting in their own right, in their half-finished state, so I thought I'd share:

Liquid India ink. This picture was drawn completely without reference photos, so it was a real stretch for me to attempt. Somewhere along the way I lost where the picture was going and thus abandoned it.

Acrylic paint. This picture was an old one I started a long time ago. It was done on the wrong kind of paper for paint, which is why I ultimately never finished it. That, and shading cobblestone is nightmarish.

Large acrylic painting on canvas. This painting really made me sad to stop working on. It was based off of a picture I took of the old fire lookout at High Rock, Washington, but I decided to paint it as a night scene. I got this far before I realized night skies are actually gray and the ground silhouetted, not the other way around, at which point I lost steam. I'll do another large painting someday.

Liquid India ink. This airplane was part of a larger drawing I made. It got cut off because (yet again) I realized partway through finishing a drawing that my perspective was off. To finish, thus demotivated, I had to cut out the more interesting part. Sometimes that's just the way it happens.

This is not an "unfinished project" per se, but rather the result of many projects. Every time I draw with ink or watercolor I need a test sheet to check the darkness and color of the medium on my brush. This sheet was the result of years worth of testing, and turned out beautifully in its own right.

Poem: 3 a.m.

Three a.m. is no man’s time;
No man’s time it should be.
‘Tis too late to be staying up
And none should rise so early.

Three a.m.’s our lowest point,
The darkest and most dreary.
The whole world should be asleep,
For it’s the haunt of want, and lonely.

Dealing With Perfectionism

"Perfectionism" High School quick sketch, charcoal.

Perfectionism is a killer.

An insidious, pervasive monster that will poison you and paralyze you. People cursed with perfectionism may eventually create projects of high quality, but if they don't get a handle on it first they will never even start.

I'm speaking from personal experience. And while it may not be a problem personally for you, it can be a problem for many people. So for those who struggle with perfectionism, here's some things that have helped me to overcome it:

Remove the stress.

Stress, especially for perfectionists, can come from feeling you have impossible expectations to live up to. Oftentimes a perfectionist will have higher standards for themselves than others have for them. It is important to try your best, but remember 'your best' is not the same thing as 'the best.' So the first thing to do is to lower your expectations. It takes time and it takes work to get good at anything, so reevaluate what you are really trying to accomplish with what you're doing, and why.

Learn to not take yourself too seriously.

Learning to laugh at yourself is a great life skill. And I don't mean in the self-deprecating, low self-esteem kind of way. I mean learning to roll with the flow and accept mistakes. A lighter approach and a good sense of humor can turn a mortifying experience into a good story or learning opportunity.

Accept the mistakes... and strive for better.

Mistakes are part of the learning process. And honestly, if we ever did accomplish something flawlessly then there wouldn't be anything left to work towards. How awful would that be? You will always be making progress, and always have progress to make. So accept that mistakes will happen, and view them not as failures, but as something to work on.

Try something unfamiliar.

This seems counter intuitive. After all, if you try to learn something you've never done before you will be bad at it, which can be frustrating. But that's the point. It can be humbling to have to learn the basics of something. So much of perfectionism is tied in with pride. It's about not wanting to appear substandard before others.

As an added bonus, trying something new can lead to new discoveries and at the very least get your brain working in unexpected ways. Plus, you're new at it, so you're not expected to be good at it! No pressure there. So pick up an instrument, or try a drawing in medium you've never used before. It can be incredibly grounding.

Learn to enjoy the process, not the result.

Learning skills and living is a process, not an accomplishment. My final word of advice for the perfectionist then is this: don't worry about the results. Put your effort into doing things the right way, and you will eventually get the good results. Be that in writing, art, weight loss, your job, or whatever.

Overcoming perfectionism itself is a process. So keep these things in mind, lighten up, and start. It's much better than doing nothing at all.

Poem: Wild

I want to know where the wilds are found;
We’ve marked all our borders, we’ve paved all our towns.
Give me hardship and danger and deeds of great worth!
Give me space to walk on the face of this earth.

I’m sick of Associations, your Zones and your Codes.
Civilized by light and heat, we’ve forgotten the dark and the cold.
I want the reminders that these places exist, that
There’s something to fight for, something we’ve missed.

I want the thrill of discovery, the love of the new.
The crouching unknown met with brave attitudes.
Give me picture imperfect, and a map incomplete!
Give me space to explore and a future to meet.

I want to know if the wilds exist,
Or if I’m too late, and my chance I have missed.

Short Story: Franken the Snowman

I consider myself to be a fairly creative person. And I pride myself on being able to work with whatever's on hand, be it home repair or cooking dinner or whatever. But that mentality has backfired pretty spectacularly on a few occasions, and one winter years ago was not an exception.

Snow is a rarity in the Pacific Northwest, west of the Cascades. We usually get snowfall a couple of times a year, but it tends to be the big, wet flakes that are pretty to watch fall but don't stick around. Accumulation that lasts for more than three days can be pretty rare, and sometimes only happens once in a whole winter. So we seize snow days. We revel in them.

This one winter we'd finally gotten something like three or four inches of snow and I was determined to make the most of it. "Making the most" of course, involved making a snowman. It was cold and quiet and I hadn't done this in a while, so I was excited.

Building it in my own backyard would have been ideal, but we had a dog and I wasn't so good at picking up every pile of his poo regularly. Rolling around the snow there could be perilous, so I built it in my grandparents' yard, who also happened to be our neighbors.

The first thing I did was roll out a base, torso, and head in the classical fashion. But since we only had about three inches I couldn't make him very big. Still, he was well proportioned and decent sized. As a bonus, I even sculpted a little dog to keep him company and modeled it after our basset hound, Oliver.

Now it was time to accessorize him, and this was where things started to get a little hairy. We didn't really have any of that "classic" snowman stuff, and he was a little small for boots and a scarf even if we'd had an extra available. And with things starting to already feel a little sloppy outside, I wasn't sure his head would hold a hat up for very long.

I rooted around in the fridge for a while but we were out of carrots. The closest thing I could find were some fingerling potatoes, so I grabbed one that was long and skinny and had a hook on the end. It would be an ugly nose, but it'd work.

The real discovery came when I stumbled upon a package of stale peppermint candies in the back of the baking cupboard. They were perfectly circular and a pretty red and white color. I grabbed those, dug up some gravel from the driveway, and found two branches in the backyard.

I was ready to roll.

In the end, I had a very nice snowman, with two peppermint eyes, a hook nose and gravel smile, and three proud peppermint buttons down his front. He even had a little peppermint-eyed dog! Well satisfied, I went about completing "making the most" of my snow day, which included such activities as having hot chocolate, throwing snow at my sister, and walking to the lake near our house.

Day wore into evening, and with everybody now home I decided to show off my creation to my family. But when I led them to the backyard I gasped because my snowman had been murdered.

It turns out peppermint reacts weirdly with snow, and something in the candies lowers the melting point of the snow as they dissolve and melt. The result is a bored tunnel in the snow. You can stick your fingers into them, it's a very localized effect. However, the red dye in the melted candies is another story. It bleeds everywhere.

So instead of a classic little Frosty I was able to introduce my family to Mr. Murder Victim and his Hound of the Baskervilles. Because instead of cute peppermint eyes they both had hollow, bloodshot sockets, and as an added bonus the snowman had three neat bullet holes blooming in his chest.

And of course, his hook nose had fallen out, leaving him noseless and with a gravel smile that now looked a little toothy.

I was mortified.

Actually, we did get a good laugh out of it, and thankfully my family believed that I wasn't some disturbed psychopath but rather the victim of chemistry and circumstance.

I've made other snowmen. I've sculpted dogs. But that snowman has to be my favorite.

My grandma's dog stayed up all night barking at him, until in the morning he simply melted away.

Don't Go Looking For A Soapbox

"Birds on a Wire" 2009, acrylic paint

This is a tricky article to write without getting very ironic, and not in a good way. So I'm just going to share a short story about this old painting I made.

It originally started out as a commentary about how teenagers in my age group spent more time on their electronic devices instead of interacting with each other and the world around them. It was supposed to be satirical, comparing that group to birds on a wire, sitting still and not saying anything to one another.

Not getting that vibe from this painting? Neither did I.

Truth is, this was the first (and last) time I set out to make a point with my artwork. In part because the point completely flopped. By the time I had finished, I thought it looked slightly comical and, well... fun. I wanted to join this group of friends listening to music on a bridge. So in a strange twist of irony, I was schooled by the piece I tried to school others with.

And I vowed to never be so pretentious again.

So many times, art can be a powerful tool to make a statement. It speaks to people on a level that perhaps plain words cannot, be it music, art, or a story. So the temptation exists to abuse that power. However, most people don't like to be told things. If they catch even a whiff that you're trying to scold them about something they'll put up their defenses.

Additionally, forcing a point tends to feel... forced.

It's far better to make art that means something to you and then let any statements that people take away from it be incidental. If what you make is authentic, is honest, what you believe will bleed through it in an honest way, and people will not feel like you are ramming your point of view down their throat.

So make art! Be creative! But bear in mind that a soapbox is a slippery place to stand.

Poem: Hourglass Mentality

My life would have much less stress
If I could banish just one thing.
Not a ticking clock, or a digital watch,
But an hourglass mentality.

Once it starts it does not stop,
And hourglasses have an end.
Once this day is gone I can’t
Reclaim it or bring it back again.

Each moment is a grain that tumbles below
To lie in a heap with all the rest.
And constantly in the back of my mind
I wonder: was it well spent?

Books I've Liked And LOVED

I have certainly read a lot of books over the years. I used to work in a library, and I'd bring so many books home my mom complained I wasn't getting anything else done. I don't think there's any way to calculate exactly how many I've read.

In my profile I claimed there was too many books I like to list. That was in error (and partly due to laziness) and while this is not an exhaustive list, here are some I've enjoyed over the years, in no particular order:

Title, Author. Why I liked it.

How to Train Your Dragon (series), Cressida Cowell. Irreverently humorous and surprisingly deep, this series was everything I like to see in a book and is further proof that things not meant for adult readers can be enjoyed by adults nevertheless. As an added bonus, Cowell managed to end the series in a satisfying way; you don't always see that (looking at you, Suzanne Collins). Well worth a read, especially if you enjoy light fantasy and sarcasm.

Fahrenheit 451, Ray Bradbury. The only "dystopia" novel I have ever actually enjoyed reading. It's actually one of those books I come back to reread periodically. If you think it's just about book burning then you haven't read it. Bradbury's voice can be a bit wandering and poetic, but it fits the main character's personality perfectly. And given that it was written in 1953 I find the technological predictions a bit spooky.

Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen. "Classic" can be a curse word and "love story" is a turn off for me as well, but this is the one classic love story I actually like. The main characters are relatable and witty, and if you have no problem reading stories written in an older style then this is a good one.

All Creatures Great and Small (series), James Herriot. My actual favorite series and author, the memoirs of a country vet in 1930's Yorkshire are some of the best stories to come back to. Written with a real honesty and pathos, Herriot will have you laughing, crying, and celebrating with him through the years. Seriously. Check these out.

Star Wars Trilogy, George Lucas, Donald Glut, and James Kahn. I actually read the Star Wars series long before I ever got to see the movies, book loaned to me by an enthusiastic cousin. I have lost count over the years how many times I've read it, but if you ask me the series is even better in writing. Absolutely epic.

Collected Poems of Robert Service, Robert Service. Robert Service was a poet who wrote a lot about the Far North, and for that reason his poetry tends to strike a chord with me. It is also unpretentious and very authentic, an easy read and very enjoyable.

The Hobbit, JRR Tolkien. Another classic, but how could I not include it? The best thing to come from the movies is that now I read Bilbo Baggins dialogue in Martin Freeman's voice, but seriously. Charming story.

Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic, John Jackson Miller. I don't read many graphic novels, but I felt these had to be included. Anyone who's ever played the old RPG will find lots of references in these stories, but thankfully they're centered around their own cast of equally interesting characters. The humor's spot on, and the stakes just believable enough. And it's nice to read a story about characters that have to be clever rather than strong. Additionally, if you ever need to know the definition of dramatic irony, read these stories. It's insane how much they added.

Hatchet, Gary Paulsen. Paulsen's always good, but Hatchet was the first survival story I read in elementary school. You really journey with Brian through his story and it's great.

Joy Luck Club, Amy Tan. Wonderful book about the relationship between mothers and daughters and a very interesting look at the difference in view between first generation and second generation immigrants. I made that sound pretentious and boring, but I promise it is a good read.

How to Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee. One of the very few required readings in High School that I actually enjoyed. Sequel notwithstanding (there should be a statute of limitations on how long you can wait to write a sequel).

Tales of the North, Jack London. Another author of the Far North, London has written some great novels and short stories. I actually got to see his cabin once, so that's pretty cool.

What If?, Randall Munroe. First nonfiction on this list. Ridiculous science and humor at its finest.

I, Robot, Isaac Asimov. Classic sci-fi, and I dare you to find a robot story that doesn't in some way reference Asimov's robot stories (Three Laws, anyone?). He literally created the word 'robotics'.

Calvin and Hobbes, Bill Waterson. It's a toss up between this and the Far Side for my favorite comic, but both are great. I actually had a sarcastic Calvin and Hobbes cartoon on my writing notebook for AP Language Arts that'd I'd post if it weren't for the whole 'copyright' thing. They're funny, artistic, and actually make a statement without making a scene.

The Far Side, Gary Larson. Larson's humor is a little further on the bizarre scale, but being such a fan of science and dry/bizarre humor I really love these. You either get the Far Side or you don't.

Kenobi, John Jackson Miller. Generally, spin off books written for established series end up being enjoyable but not really great. This one was good. Really, really good. It was nice to have high stakes that didn't necessarily mean the whole galaxy was in danger. And you've got to love Obi-Wan. A must read for Star Wars fans.

The Poisoner's Handbook, Deborah Blum. This one's also a documentary, but the book's pretty good too. Fascinating read on the birth of forensics science in Jazz Age New York. Crazy stuff.

Ollie's Odyssey, William Joyce. Another case of a children's book that's written well enough to be read by adults. Which is the best kind of book really, but it's a very sweet story about favorite toys and growing up.

Stuff Matters, Mark Miodownik. Another nonfiction, but if you are interested in materials science in any way then this is a fascinating read.