The Stony Hue of a January Morn

January1 of 3

there is
no beauty
in a January snow
and
it conveys
no possibilities-

January cold
does not touch your nose
or tickle your skin-
it begins in your bones
deep in your marrows
then slinks out
like a death
never letting go-

there is a limit
in our cold, cold steps
and each could be the fated last
but we trudge
trudge
trudge forward
never running
forever counting down-

the sun is lost
baked red, hidden away-
the gray clouds will not free it
trapped like an animal
in a dark covered cave
waiting and growling deep-

when the world ends
it will look like a January morn-
quiet-
soulless-
colorless-
void-
and no amount of breath will bring it back- Continue reading

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Sunlight Breaking: A Writing Update

SunOne of the things I have learned about myself over the last few months is that I am emotionally affected by the weather. We have been dealing with record colds here (and a snowfall that never seems to end) and it had completely warped me of any creative energy I had.

I got up feeling already tired, a little depressed, and the idea of doing anything creative always felt like a struggle.

The funny thing is, since I lived in Los Angeles for four years, you would imagine that those years would have been the best time of my life. Yeah, looking back it was a fine (and it was nice being warm everyday), but I don’t think I did anything more spectacularly then. I was writing more, sure, but I was also in a the MPW program at the University of Southern California. I had to write more!

Whatever the case, we had actual sunlight a few days ago. Wonders upon wonders! I took walks outside, breathed friendly fresh air; suddenly life seemed worth writing about again.

Okay, it’s not like I was completely stagnant during the time of the icy blahs. I was still doing my two or so blogposts a week, promoting my novels; heck, I even got a book deal for my latest novel (I’ll do a catch up below). I guess I just wasn’t feeling it… which mean I wasn’t feeling me, which looks really weird now that I wrote that.

Let’s move on. Continue reading

The Christmas Accordion: Holiday 2012 Thoughts

I have three memories around my second grade teacher, Mr. Nyenhuis.

The first involved the time he dumped Dan Wheeler’s desk on the ground, showing what an absolute mess it was. Seriously, there was a smell coming from it that we all had to find out about. It couldn’t be natural.

The second memory was around my broken wrist. It was my first (and only) broken anything and I had to get up in front of the class and tell everyone about it. I remember the feeling of all of my fellow classmates’ eyes on me and their excitement as I got closer and closer to the moment I fell off the bars on a backyard play set (I remember doing an incredibly inaccurate “crunch!” noise). To this day, I point to that moment as one of the defining ones that turned me towards storytelling.

The last memory involved Mr. Nyenhuis, the holidays, and Christmas.

See, for every year I was in elementary school, on the last week of school before Christmas, we had a tradition at Parkview Elementary. All of the kids were led out to the hallway for a daily sing-along. Continue reading