Welcome to your Friday Morning FYI, my chance to share observations/wisdom/rants in short, easily consumed form.
This week’s FYI recently flew out of my mouth during a conversation with a friend. I have no idea where the inspiration for it came from, but I’m glad it came:
The only things the Universe gives you are time and energy. Spending those on someone else is a gift.
Thanks for reading,
{RDj}
Philosophical treatise on trees, life, and self-limitation in 3… 2… 1…
I’d just hopped off my train at Newark Penn Station and was walking along Platform A toward the far stairs – the recently rediscovered crooning of Alanis Morissette occupying my headspace. I happened to glance to my left and spotted, of all things, a tree.
Gorgeous, delicate bubblegum blossoms, gently-waving against the glowing yellow of abused safety rails and the broken reds of rusted tracks. And leaves, like green rips of skin, scattered across the mammoth gray spine of the station.
I kept walking, subconsciously aware of the crashing human wave rolling behind me – everyone rushing to get wherever their watches commanded them to be – but also reached for my phone. And then it was too late and I was in the stairwell, headed down to the marble shoebox that is the concourse, to go right back up to Platform 1 and the Path.
But I didn’t catch the Path. Not right away. I didn’t even try. I hopped the turnstile (because you’re locked-in once on the Path Platforms, apparently) over to Platform B, hustled back down to the concourse and back up to the now-deserted Platform A.
I took my phone out and took the above shot. And below shot. And several other shots, too. This was a few days ago. I needed time to think about why the tree effected me the way it did, calling me back to chronicle that moment rather than sleepwalking into my day. Here’s what I came up with:
Simply put, if a tree can grow under a city train station, what else is possible?
Or perhaps the question really is, what do I believe is possible?
We spend so much time limiting ourselves. “I can’t.” “I’ll never.” “There’s no way I could.” Tree seeds don’t believe that. They just know to grow – to flourish, even under the worst circumstances. Life doesn’t believe that, either. Where there’s even the smallest patch of earth, life is. And persists. And endures, without doubt or complaint. Like that stunning tree reaching toward the sky from beneath a smothering cage of iron and concrete.
If life, of which we’re all atoms, doesn’t believe in limitation, why should we?
Go be a tree.
Thanks for reading.
{RDj}
I read ‘Invictus’ at least once a day. I find it motivating on good days, and comforting on not-as-good days. Today, for reasons only the Universe knows, I found it inspiring – as in, ‘Go write a thing,’ inspiring. So I wrote a thing.
Here’s the thing.
In the Times Which Try a Man
The Whispering Skull by Jonathan Stroud
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
ZOMG WHY IS BOOK 3 NOT OUT UNTIL SEPTEMBER!!?!
*clears throat* Sorry.
In case you couldn’t tell, I enjoyed this book. In case that’s not enough, keep reading.
Prose – Strong, elegant, consistent.
The writing is exceptional. I find several supporting characters more interesting than the MC, though. She’s consistently written, and quite funny in a sarcastic, dark way–which I enjoy–but for some reason, I like George (the researcher of the team) more.
Story – (This paragraph is pasted from my review of ‘The Screaming Staircase’) In a world where “Visitors” (ghosts) are a publically-recognized threat, children–who are the only people who can see the spirits–risk their lives to put the ghosts to rest. The story is told by Lucy, the newest member of the London-based ghost-fighting agency, Lockwood and Co.
The story is set a short time after the events of ‘The Screaming Staircase’, and focuses on the hunt for a magic (and wonderfully evil) mirror that allows you to see through to “the other side”. We also get some nice expansion of the world, learning a lot about the dangerous relics black market.
The author has a knack for creating real feelings of dread and danger through his use of atmosphere (a cemetery catacomb seems like a terrible place to be after dark) and the creative designs of his ghosts. Several of those blew me away (I’m looking at you, rat-ghost-guy).
Favorite thing – Easily rat-ghost-guy.
Least favorite thing – I’ve sat for ten minutes straining to come-up with something I didn’t like. I’ve failed, and am going to stop thinking about it before I give myself an aneurism.
Overall – Strong recommend for creepiness and splashes of dark humor.
I believe with all my heart the most important thing about writing a novel is completing the first draft.
It’s just math. It doesn’t matter how great or original your idea is. A great, original idea != a book. It doesn’t matter how long your outline is. An outline != a book. You have to complete that first draft. A first draft is a book, albeit (for many of us) a bad book-but a book nonetheless. Or manuscript, if you prefer. Then you do a ton of editing to make it a good book, or even a great book. If you’d like to see it spelled out, here are some formulas (to keep the whole math theme going):
no first draft = no book
first draft = book
(first draft + editing) = second draft = better book
(second draft + A LOT of editing) = next draft = good book
Simple? Good. But that brings me to a unexpected problem…
Continue reading “Growing as a Writer: An Interesting Observation on First Drafts”
Ron Writes Stuff 