First Visit To A Japanese Temple

Yasaka Shrine, which we visited
before Kiyomizu-dera

Hey look, a post I started to write ages ago!

Well basically at this point I've decided to write totally out of order in favor of just getting things done. I started to write this when the memories were still fresher in my mind, and then finished it up today. So here goes: skipping about two weeks ahead, I'm going to talk about my first trip to a Buddhist Temple.

right outside the temple,
a pagoda

My friend and I managed to work out a time to go visit Kyoto, which is sort of her hometown, and also an old capital city of Japan. 

For any of you who would like to know how it is written (or to find out if your computer supports japanese text, haha) these are the kanji:  京都

So anyway, I got to visit Kyoto! Specifically, kiyomizu-dera (清水寺), an old temple that is both sprawlingly large (well technically it's not large but there are a lot of small surrounding shrines and other things so it's like a big complex of shrines and one fairly large temple) and breathtakingly beautiful.

thank God for google images -
yatsuhashi unbaked

google images gets credit here -
yatsuhashi baked

google images to the rescue: warabi-mochi

 Before and after visiting the temple, I got to wander through small streets where all sorts of little shops were hawking regional specialties like yatsuhashi 八橋 (dough made of rice-flour flavored with cinnamon and sugar - they come in two delicious varieties: baked crispy and served with ice cream like a super-thin shortbread or raw and filled with chocolate/red beans/etc. The dough itself also comes in other flavors, though traditionally it's cinnamon) 
warabi-mochi 蕨餅 (starchy jello-like cubes that are then covered with powdery flavored things, a bit more on the undersweet side but very flavorful) , 

google images - tsukemono

tsukemono 漬物 (literally means "pickled things", my friend who went with me described them as "things you put on rice". They are a lot of pickled vegetables and come in a HUGE variety of flavors, my friend and I probably tried two or three at each shop and each shop had like twenty or so, and we still managed to eat about fifteen or so different varieties of pickled veggies. They might be pickled in a normal brine but also come in soy sauce brines, miso brine, and various other flavors), 

google images - umeboshi

and umeboshi 梅干 (pickled plums, which I used to think I hated until I tried these. Turns out I just don't like cheap umeboshi. These pickled plums varied between extremely sweet with a hint of sour and so salty I wasn't sure if it was actually plum or just salt and vinegar with plum waved over the top. They all had a really good flavor, and the shop also served some sort of seaweed broth with it that tasted like sea water but not quite, it had a bit of some sort of soupy essence to it. like if you made soup out of ocean water maybe... )

Finally, last but not least, Kyoto is famous for its matcha 抹茶 (a powdered green tea with a very strong flavor. If you've ever had green tea ice cream, it's a little bit like that, only imagine it much more concentrated. Very good, though according to my friend there are quite a few people who don't like it, they think it is too bitter. I love it though, which means that when my friend and I decided to get a green tea parfait  that cost an arm and a leg but ended up tasting FANTASTIC and was almost too much even though we'd decided to split the parfait and price... haha.  I loved it. There were also matcha cookies that had white chocolate fillings and it was like heaven in your mouth, the subtle white chocolate and the powerful matcha... the easiest way to describe matcha is to have you think of coffee.  I KNOW IT SOUNDS STRANGE, JUST WORK WITH ME HERE FOR A MOMENT. So matcha, like coffee, is a very strong flavor that can be bitter but addicting. Like coffee, there is matcha flavored ice cream, matcha flavored cakes, matcha flavored jello, matcha flavored desserts in general. Now technically matcha and coffee taste nothing alike. But they have very similar qualities in that they both have a very discernable flavor that is an acquired taste but can be used in a myriad of ways. And I love it, so of course I had tons of fun trying the different matcha flavored things in kyoto.)


Now to go into detail about the fantastic temple:

kiyomizu-dera from a distance

it was beautiful. Surrounded by trees, made of old worn wood, the sound of water running (this temple is famous for a waterfall that can supposedly cure ills), a light breeze, the last of the cherry blossoms drifting down from above... the atmosphere was perfect, it wasn't too warm out, and I'm pretty sure my friend was sick of hearing me saying "Aww! So pretty!!!" over and over again.

a shrine connected to kiyomizu-dera

Unfortunately, my camera died almost right away because I couldn't figure out how to get it to tell me if it was running out of batteries or not last night and so I hadn't charged it (stupid me, I know). Fortunately I have a japanese cell phone that, while its photos aren't the greatest, they are of a decent enough quality that I can post them here, though they are a bit fuzzy, sorry.

a buddhist monk chanting

So the first thing that we did when we got to the temple was wash ourselves before entering. This was really interesting to me, because I know that purification is an important concept in Christianity, and I love seeing the things that carry over between cultures because to me I see that as the little pieces of ourselves that God has primed for wanting to know and please him. So to me, realizing that a religion so different from Christianity as Buddhism/Shinto (both have places to wash, particularly shinto shrines) also seeks to purify one's self before entering the presence of a great, eternal being, I was reminded of how we are also meant to approach our creator with a contrite heart, and how important repentance and respect are in our relationship with God. One thing that I absolutely loved about the purification was that not only did you wash your hands before entering the shrine, you also wash out your mouth. 

my friend sabrina took this picture at
kiyomizu-dera, I just stole it from facebook

There was something so intimate and powerful about recognizing that uncleanliness not only comes from what is outside you, but also inside of you, in this simple act. It reminded me of the scripture that says "out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks" and reminded me that the natural state of the human heart is wicked and dirty, and it's only through Christ Jesus that we can become clean.  Every time I visit a shrine or temple in Japan, I find myself in awe of how a pagan ritual can actually bring me to new understandings of God and what he tells us in his word, and it makes me so happy that he can use these sorts of experiences to teach me, and, I hope, in turn help me to relate to those who are still lost by pointing out universal truths that have been pursued and found in the wrong place. Because no matter how many times you wash your hands and mouth, your heart will not get any cleaner. Only the blood of Jesus Christ can truly purify me.

burning incense in front of the temple

As we continued from there, I was able to look at the temple's interior, which had a large statue of Buddha and was burning incense. If there was one thing I took away from this trip, it was how strangely comfortable I felt in this place, and at the same time, how intensely sad it made me. I was expecting to feel afraid or awkward when visiting a temple, but instead found myself feeling introspective, and concerned for all the lost who came to this place looking for answers that a wooden statue covered in gold leaf could never provide. In the time since I've had the chance to visit many shrines and temples and out of all of my friends, it's safe to say that I am the most comfortable in these spaces of worship, despite the fact that I am also the most vocal about my faith. I once discussed with an Atheist friend why she was so uncomfortable in the space, and she said to her the idea of religion was so foreign that it was hard to come to terms with it. She also mentioned it felt threatening to her worldview in an abstract way, which I found interesting.

kiyomizu-dera is known for having 3 streams
of water - one for good luck, one fore healing
and one for something else, I forget. people
come to drink from the streams of water.
Another interesting analogy to ponder...

To me, I explained, despite the fact that I don't believe in Buddhism or Shinto, I had no problem interacting with the religious spaces, nor did I feel particularly threatened by them. I suspect in part this is because I approached the space as an opportunity to understand how to better reach those who followed it's practice, and also approached it with the understanding that very few Japanese actually practice these faiths. For the Japanese, religion is more like a way to connect with the past than a personal conviction, so many of these shrines and temples are little more than a place to go to "cover your bases". Much like a lot of cultural Christians in America today.

I don't know if the reason I didn't feel much tension in these spaces is because I am not considered a threat by the enemy (I really hope this isn't it, I like to think I'm making a difference), or because I am approaching this religious fixture almost like Paul did on Mars hill  - here, look at your religion, it is close, but you are missing the most important piece: Jesus! The unknown god!

You are worshiping the created rather than the creator! 

One thing I do wish is that more churches in the US were set up like buddhist temples and shinto shrines in Japan - not in the sense of statues and insence, but rather the deep and powerful beauty of these areas for religious gathering. These spaces are beautiful, and so carefully cultivated to really display the vast and intricate beauty of nature. Really, God created this world in so many fantastic ways, and I love that these shrines and temples so strongly display the beauty and wonder that he has created. I think that's probably what I love best about visiting Temples like Kiyomizu-dera -- looking around and seeing God's handiwork, from the nature, to the craftsmanship that was created through talents he gifted... 


When I go to a religious space in Japan, it is created in such a way that I become more attuned to the beautiful and majestic creations in our world, and I wish that churches in America today would bring me the same sense of wonder and beauty. I wish it would be easier to find spaces like this in America, places where I can revel in the handiwork of God as I praise him in a peaceful and beautiful space surrounded by architecture, pools of water, trees, plants, and the wide open blue sky.

Trip to Japan: the Sequel

...because it's just no fun to have a "Part I" that is actually followed by "Part II". It's much more fun to throw expectations out the window and generally be dorky about things.

Well yet again I'm over here apologizing for the delay, believe me when I say it WILL happen again and I'm truly sorry for making you wait, but hopefully the wait will be worth it-ish, or at least not so underwhelming that you decide to never read my blog again, because then there would really be no point in writing.

So all right, last time I checked I was on a plane bound for Seoul, South Korea, where I would have a layover in order to hitch a ride on a plane destined for Kansai International Airport in Japan.

This airpline flight took about 13 hours, which is a very long time to sit on AN ENOURMOUS AIRPLANE THAT ACTUALLY HAD TWO FLOORS DEAR LORD IN HEAVEN ABOVE I'M STILL TRYING TO WRAP MY HEAD AROUND THE SIZE OF THIS HUGE AIRPLANE -- ahem. Anyway. The air did not work, so I was stuck on an airplane filled with a bunch of people and no cool air. You know me and heat -- it's almost impossible for me to sleep without cool air, much less trying to sleep sitting up.

On the bright side, the couple next to me were super sweet, an elderly couple headed to meet their family in the Philippines. They were very kind and we chatted a bit. (I know, I know, Rachel? Chat?! WILLINGLY???) Anyway as we're sitting on the airplane it's time for our first meal on this giant floating bus. The options were chicken, beef, or a korean dish called Bi Bim Bap. Now, I've actually never eaten Korean food. But I figured it was a good time to get used to new things since I was headed for 6 months in a foreign country. The stewardess was like "Are you sure?" and of course I'm like "Oh yeah, sure," and she looked pretty worried when she handed me the meal. But it was good! the only thing I wasn't really a fan of was the seaweed soup, because basically it tasted like lukewarm sea water to me. It's probably an acquired taste.  But the Bi Bim Bap was quite yummy. The most amusing part was seeing the stewardess's face when I handed the tray back with only a bite or two left (there was a lot of food), and about one third of the seaweed soup. (I really did try to like it). She was like blown away that I'd actually managed to eat it, I think she was afraid she'd have to dump the whole meal because I was some dumb tourist who thought Korean food would be an  "experience". Well, it was an experience, and some time I'd like to eat Korean food that isn't going to be served on an airplane.

After that meal, the second meal offered chicken, or beef and noodles or chicken and noodles and I went for the chicken with rice, which happened to have a nice teriyaki sauce and was quite yummy. it also had a creamy cheesecake like dessert. yum! they also served coffee and offered me alcohol, though i declined the alcohol in favor of seattle's best coffee. Nice to know the PNW leaves it's mark all over the world, even on Korean Airlines.

In between the meals we got several servings of tea/coffee/juice/soda/etc, and while the plane floated over the ocean for about 13 hours I watched several movies: Rise of the Guardians, the new movie from DreamWorks. (I love it, the animation is fantastic and beautiful and I quite like the storyline, the only thing is I'm not sure if the movie is trying to make the moon a metaphor for God or not and I'm not so into that but otherwise I really like the message of the story so....) I also watched "Hotel Transylvania", which is a cute coming-of-age story about a vampire girl and her overprotective father. super cute. Then I watched Wreck-it Ralph, the new movie from Pixar, and that was also a great movie, super sweet, lighthearted, great story, all around just adorable.

...then I watched Rise of the Guardians again, in Japanese, because they had Japanese dubs on several of the movies. And then I watched Rise of the Guardians in English again. Then I tried to sleep for about an hour unsuccessfully, following that with another viewing of Rise of the Guardians, though I just skipped to my favorite parts.

The plane finally landed, and I was forced to once again chill with TSA, only due to the previous plane delays, I was pretty convinced I was going to miss my boarding. So it was more like me standing in line frantically glancing at  the clock like "it started boarding six minutes ago, I'm going to miss my flight noooooo, God, I can't sit in seoul for another ten hours or something, I'd go insane, nooooo"

well, long story short, I got there in time to board with everyone else in economy class. So no sob stories of me trapped in seoul, thank God. So after all that, the trip through customs in Japan was surprisingly straightforward. I filled out a paper that told them I had nothing particularly valuable, they waved me through. The only bit of excitement occurred when I accidentally dropped my passport and they were like "excuse me! you dropped it!" and pointed at my passport.  After that "craziness" (seriously, I was like 10 times more itimidated by the TSA people than by customs) I headed outside to find the shuttle stop that would take me to my hotel, where I met two women from france that might have been sisters and may have been a lesbian couple.

I don't know for sure, the two ladies were very nice, we discussed international politics some and the little boy they had with them stared at me with big blue eyes under a shock of white-blonde hair. Their english was very good and they were going to the same hotel as I, so we stood at the shuttle stop together. A Japanese family also rode in the shuttle but they were a bit intimidated by our use of English, so they didn't attempt conversation.

Finally we arrived at the Kansai Airport Spa Hotel, where I and my new acquaintances checked in and headed to our rooms, me lugging my two 25-pound carry-ons and both 50-poundish suitcases (ha, you forgot about those, didn't you? Well I DIDN'T, it's quite hard to forget that you're practically lugging around your body weight in luggage)

Annnd that my friends is where I shall end this post. Next post will have photos from the window of my hotel and also the bus ride to Kobe. Kansai International Airport is in Osaka, not Kobe. But more on that next post. Which hopefully will come sooner than later, but no promises.

Trip to Japan Part I

Well by now I'm sure most of you have despaired of me ever updating my blog at all. (I'm with you there.) I suppose my only excuse can be that I really dislike writing about myself and so it takes me a lot of work to get motivated to write here.

Of course once I get started the words start flowing and it's all good but really it's frustrating that I've left y'all hanging while I try to work myself up to writing about my trip so far. Well okay, now that I've groveled sufficiently, let's get back to what you're actually interested in hearing about.

JAPAN （日本）

 All right so I'm going to just start at the beginning, which of course means dragging two giant suitcases as close to the 50 pound limit as possible and also lugging about two carry-ons that are as close to the 25 pound limit as possible. Once I arrived at Portland Int'l Airport, I shuffled over to an airplane and flew to LA, the first leg of a journey that would end up taking about 24 hours all told.

Once I landed in LA, my ~40 pounds worth of carry-ons and I had to make our way across the airport and make our way to the international terminal in LA, which just so happens to be waaaaaay at the opposite end from the domestic departures. Ugh. So after walking the equivalent of about four city blocks in the sun with about forty pounds' worth of unwieldy luggage, I managed to check into Korean Airlines and made my way through a second security checkpoint. I did this because I had mistakenly read the clock as being an hour ahead and thought my flight would be boarding in about twenty minutes. Once I reached my gate I realized that the plane would actually be boarding in about seventy minutes. (it took me 10 minutes to find the gate). Well. Unfortunately all the restaurants were on the OTHER side of the security checkpoint, and I had not yet eaten food that morning. (though I had managed to get a cup of tea).

the security checkpoint had also gained a large line and being the paranoid person I am, in addition to my extreme aversion to spending time with the TSA, I decided to just sit there and eat some oranges and beef jerky that mom had sent with me. (I discovered that you could take oranges with you through a security checkpoint after a Model United Nations conference in new york that began with me trying desperately to foist off my oranges before we had to get to the airport, only to discover that I needn't have worried and the oranges did not have to be tossed in the trash)

So I was thinking to myself, okay, let's just read one of the books you bought from the Powell's in the airport, and as I'd never read the Great Gatsby and it had been on sale I figured it was worth a shot. (Note: unless you find yourself with the time to really consider the implications and messages presented in The Great Gatsby, don't read it. It's just a frustrating realistic/true-to-life story about dysfunctional people who suffer because of their own actions and attitudes. Ew. Where is the sci-fi, I ask you! Where is it???)

Anyway as most of you probably know I abhor with deep loathing being watched by people and thus I was not at all impressed by the fact that the people at my gate were sitting around while I was there (no, they were not actually staring but it feels that way so bluh). Since people were there and any odd movement had a high likelihood of drawing stares it took me awhile to finally work up the courage to go fill my water bottle. (I told you I don't like people staring. It's true. I would almost rather dehydrate than be watched going to find a water fountain.)

Anyway by the time i got back, korean airlines was apologizing because  the flight was delayed. Which meant I'd really had the time to go get food from the airport had I so desired. But now of course I was paranoid because I wasn't sure when the plane was going to arrive so did I go look for food? no.

(but that's okay  because the flight to Seoul served two meals)

Annnnd tragically I must take my leave here in order to go to class, but I will continue the airplane story in my next post and then eventually catch up to the madness and stress and also fun and excitement that is Japan.

Until then!

The One About Body Image

Oh dear, seems like everyone has something to say about this topic, don't they? Well now it's my turn. *cue dramatic music*
...
...
...
Okay, since my sound engineer quit because I forgot to pay him, we have no dramatic music. So we'll just settle for a few gasps of surprise. *cue horrified gasps*
...
...well since I'm the only one here, I guess I'll just gasp and ask you to gasp along. Don't be afraid of looking like a fish out of water, it's for the good of interactive reading!

Well all right, that was a pretty good horrified gasp. Try and put a little more emotion into that inhale next time, but it'll do for the moment. Now where was I? Oh yes... body image.
*cue horrified gasps*

This is a topic people seem to have a lot of opinions about. And even I myself used to say things like "I don't understand [insert name/random passerby/whoever here], they're so pretty. How can they be so insecure about [insert random physical characteristic here] when they look so good?"

I've started to shy away from that though, because I've begun to see in myself how there is much more to body image than just how you actually look. Body image is about your own perception of yourself, and as the old saying goes: "you are your own worst critic."

Let's take myself as an example. It makes sense, since this is my blog. (haha, see how I managed to grammatically include both 'since' and 'sense' in the same sentence? I love being a nerd...) Recently, I've had the unfortunate displeasure of a horrid outbreak of adult acne. I never really had acne even through high school, and the only time I "washed" my face was when shampoo got on it in the shower. So when this acne decided to interrupt my life about midway through 2010, I did my best to ignore it. Unfortunately, acne doesn't take that attitude well, and I've spent the last few years figuring out how to deal with these pimples that seem to have taken up permanent residence on my face.

While I can keep them somewhat under control, using makeup only exacerbates the condition, which means if I try to cover up the existing acne I will only be creating more acne. Talk about unhelpful. So I've learned to cope and wash my face twice a day and use toners and anti-acne moisturizers and all those other things that I didn't even know existed before suddenly they became essential. From what I understand, my acne is caused by stress. Which basically means my life gives me acne, because when was the last time going to school away from your family wasn't stressful?

But I'm not writing this to complain about my acne. (Okay, maybe I am, a little.) What I didn't realize was how much acne would affect my self-esteem. (woo-hoo! another hot-button topic! I'm just throwing these words around like confetti!)

See, before my acne, I'd considered my face my best feature. I've never been particularly skinny, and in a world where supermodels are practically all anorexic and it's a cardinal sin to have an above-average BMI (I'm within the healthy weight range, but I'm nowhere near skinny), I'd found that the best way for me to feel beautiful was to "rest in the knowledge" that I had a nice face.

Cue acne. Suddenly, I felt like everything beautiful about myself was gone. I'm still not skinny and probably never will be. But now I also had a face with puffy red marks on it that wouldn't go away. How was I supposed to live like that? Some days, even if the acne's bad, I still feel okay. Other days I just want to wear a Burqa (or a giant burlap sack over my head) and be done with it.

And it's funny, because every morning when I look in the mirror, I have a different idea about myself. Some days, I look at myself and think "Oh hey, you don't look half bad. You have a nice body shape, even if you're not a twig." And other times I look in the mirror and have to walk away, because all I can see is this hideous thing staring back at me. And there's no real rhyme or reason to it. I suspect it's part hormones, part sleep deprivation, and part moods in general.

Thinking back, I realize it's always been this way. And I suspect I'm not the only one. Why do we as people place so much value in the physical? Because it can be seen and heard and felt. But what amazes me is how little value we place on the spiritual. Ultimately, the one who made us, God, knows us best.

And he loves us. Even in our sin: weakness, selfishness, foolish pride, and so much more, he still continues to love us dearly. And in his eyes, we are exactly what he made us to be. God doesn't want cardboard cutouts, so why should we? Our culture places so much pressure on men and women to conform to  "ideals" that have no place in God's kingdom. What a blessing to know that when I get to heaven, I won't ever wake up, look in the mirror, and think "Ugh, I'm hideous."

Instead, each day, I'll wake to the sound of an angel choir (singing perfectly and in perfect harmony -- how fantastic does THAT sound?), and when I look in the mirror, I will see a perfect and holy child of God.

Somehow, this vision gives whole new meaning to that verse in 1 Corinthians.  Specifically that verse that says "now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face-to-face." It's such a beautiful thought. (Even better that this verse begins the wrap-up of 1 Cor. 13, otherwise known as "the Love chapter".) God knows and loves us, and when we have been made perfect in him, when we reach heaven, we'll see ourselves the way we were always made to be. And I don't know if that means I'll be skinny or just that my size won't make people see me as someone headed down a diabetic path, but I know that it will be beautiful, and more wonderful than I can possibly imagine right now.

That last bit of 1 Corinthians 13 gets me every time, so I'll put it here in case you don't know it:


¹⁰ But when that which is perfect has come, then that which is in part will be done away.
¹¹ When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things. ¹² For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I also am known.
¹³ And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.
  
It just makes me want to cry in happiness. "When I was a child...I understood as a child". All these physical characteristics we put so much stock in here on Earth are truly childish things! When we become the people God calls us to be, we will put aside foolish things. (Now I'm not saying we shouldn't be healthy, our body is a temple of the Lord's. I'm just saying that starving the body or running it into the ground is no better than overfeeding it and never exercising.) 

"Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I also am known." There's something truly beautiful about this picture. Right now, we can catch little glimpses of the beautiful person God's made us to be, broken and cursed as we are by our sin. But one day, we will know as we also are known. When God looks at us, he doesn't see the flaws, he sees us as we will be. He sees us, covered with Christ's blood, his beautiful child who is reborn, redeemed. And he thinks we're beautiful. One day, we too will know the beauty in us that God already knows.

I guess that's what it boils down to. I hate myself some days. I hate my body some days. I hate my sin when I'm not in the act. (which happens more than I'd like to admit)

But God? He loves me. He loves every last piece of me. He sees me as I should be, not broken and destroyed by this cruel, sinful world.

And now abide faith, hope, love, these three;

but the greatest of these...

is Love.

I write, just not here

SO I AM A HORRIBLE PERSON... and not just because I'm inherently sinful (though I'm sure that has something to do with all this madness).

I can't seem to keep myself accountable with much of anything. I don't write regularly, I don't exercise regularly, I don't eat regularly, I don't blog regularly, I don't even do my homework regularly (I tend to put it off to the last minute and then beat myself up for not doing it sooner)!

So. Hello again. It's been too long. (No seriously though, the last time I blogged was before Christmas, right? So it's been more than two months.)

Why am I writing today, then? Because I'm on caffiene and can't bring myself to write fiction so I thought I'd post here.

To be more accurate, I've been looking at my stories and having fun picking them apart and realizing how terrible I am and crying with happiness at the tiny pieces of gold I sopmehow managed to eke out of my writing. I live for the day I actually manage to write something valuable, as currently I'm pretty much just writing stuff that barfs out of my brain and onto a page. Yes. Basically my stories begin with a "stream-of-consciousness-oh-hey-lets-just-vomit-on-a-page-until-something-makes-sense" sort of aesthetic. they then graduate to "this is total crap" and eventually reach the pinnacle of "I just need to re-write this whole thing and start over". That's pretty much where I've been for years now.

Someday I hope to write something that reaches out and grabs the reader and wrenches hearts and makes a difference. In the meantime I find the little chunks of my work that keep me going amidst the "GAH THAT IS SO CLICHE WHY" and the "WHY DIDN'T I THINK THIS THROUGH" or the ever-famous "Wait, why are you doing that, character? I thought you were doing this...?"

Novel writing is murder. So are short stories, mostly because it's hard for me to develop a concept that can be effectively portrayed in 5,000 or so words. 50,000 words or more tends to come easier (if longer), though I'm beginning to suspect that part of that is my inability to utilize an economy of words. But yeah, an abundance of plot and too many characters probably help that along.

But today, instead of talking about my life and everything that has been happening (or not happening, or trying to happen), I'm going to talk about my stories. Because despite the endless hours of pain and frustration they cause, I actually love them all dearly. Specifically, there are parts of each story I've written that just make me happy to be a writer: when I feel I've captured the emotion, when I write a fantastic fight scene, when characters interact in a realistic way... there are so many moments I adore.

So I'll share a few of my favorite with you. Let's start with some of my older stuff, and work my way up:

 1. from the story tentatively titled Rise of Invectus (I rarely 100% decide on a title).

“Yeah! What he said!” I cried, whirling on baldy. Why was he yelling at me anyway? I was hungry, tired, sore, and extremely confused. Honestly, I wanted my mother, and I wasn’t ashamed to say so.  “Get my mom in here and leave me alone!” I screamed, sitting straight up. The restraining straps around my chest and stomach snapped. I glanced down, staring at the bands in shock. A moment later, I felt the burning sensation on my skin where I’d shoved against them, and my muscles twinged painfully. So that’s why I hurt, I thought to myself. Then I frowned. How did I do that?

 So basically we've got a kid who was infected with a virus that gives him super-strength, but it's involuntary. It only flares up when he's angry. But unlike the Hulk, he doesn't turn into a big green rage monster. So at least we've got a little bit of originality. This bit was written about two to three years ago (hard to pinpoint exactly as the document was viewed and edited for typos recently)

2. Another excerpt, from Cyborg Wars - Book 1: Soldier (again, tentative title for both series and book)

For nearly six hundred years, the bold and proud Laham’rhi family had ruled the planet Gaal’ver’diitron from the great imperial city of Gaal’lyn. Wars, famine, constant flooding and poor soil had done little to shake the foundations of these proud rulers, and nothing could take the people of Gaal’ver’diitron from their home among the stars.

I like this excerpt because you kind of get the sense that this family whose name people can't pronounce (I can, but I'm the author, so that makes me exempt from this) rule a planet with a name that you also can't pronounce. Yet despite these unfamiliar words, the concepts of "pride" "strength" and "determination" are universal concepts that ring true with me (and hopefully others), creating a sense of familiarity despite the strange names. You can feel the struggle of these people and you're already rooting for them, even if you can't pronounce their names. This was probably written about a year ago.

3. This bit comes from The Academy Chronicles - Book 1: LX-2, one of my most recent stories. It's a bit long, but I really love it.

Squirt and Jayden exchanged glances again before deciding to make their escape. “Well, I think I’m going to go play some more video games,” Jayden said, gathering up his food tray.
“I’m going to go… not be here,” Squirt said. “You two look like you have a lot to talk about.” He too left with his tray, leaving Matt and I sitting and staring at each other.
“So, when I said bruise collection, I didn’t mean it in a life-threatening way. More like a ‘clumsy so I fall down a lot’ way,” I said softly.
“No, Alex.” Matt looked me in the eye. “You meant it in a ‘Scott freaking beats the crap out of me on a regular basis and you can’t do anything to fix it’ way.”
I looked away. “I’m not blaming you.”
“I don’t care,” Matt said. “I’m blaming me.”
I didn’t know what to say. I never know what to say. Staring down at my food, I pushed it around my plate a few times before taking a bite to avoid answering him.
Sighing, Matt grabbed his tray and stood. “I’m going to work out,” he said, leaving abruptly.
I pushed my food around my plate a little more, knowing that he’d be late to bed because one of the supes would find him in the gym with a punching bag and bleeding knuckles, and send him to the med center. I hated knowing that he was so angry because of me. I hated that these self-destructive acts were my fault. And some days, when I had the energy, I would contemplate the irony of Matt blaming himself for my injuries even as I blamed myself for his.

In this excerpt, we've got two friends and two brothers. The younger brother is being bullied, and the older brother feels responsible for it, even though he can't really do anything about it. The awkwardness of the two friends trying to give the brothers a chance to discuss, the tension in how the two brothers relate to each other and how they talk about the bullying, and the internal turmoil the main character feels, the guilt that his brother hurts himself because he can't help... I just really like the tension and awkwardness and unspoken pain that builds this scene and it's probably one of my favorite scenes. I'd say it's the best I've ever written, but I don't know that. Other people might hate it. I personally just love this scene and everything that goes unsaid along with what is said.

So yeah.

I've been having fun with my stories lately. And writing makes me happy. When it doesn't eat me alive and demand answers for why I haven't been doing it more frequently.

Anywho. Here's my lovely update, that technically hasn't told you anything at all about what's going on with me or where I'm going. More babbling to follow, I hope. Because otherwise my next blog post will also open with "I AM SUCH A TERRIBLE HUMAN BEING," or something to that effect.

In the meantime, enjoy my post and don't be too quick to judge my writing inabilities. I'm still learning. and growing. (I hope).