A Tribute That is Not a Tribute

A few nights ago, I found myself in a most uncomfortable position. Not literally, as sitting indian-style on a couch is actually patented as "teh bestest chillin' position eva." Or, you know, if it isn't, it should be.

So I suppose what I should say is that I found myself in a most uncomfortable situation. I had been reading the novel You Don't Know Me by David Klass (which, if you haven't read, you absolutely should) and giggling insanely to myself. Out loud because I just plain couldn't help it--if you've read the book, you understand perfectly and sympathize, yes? It's rare to find a book that will make you cry alternately because it's horribly sad and also because the main character has such a wonderful sense of humor that you just can't stop laughing.

So, yes, here I am, sitting in "teh bestest chillin' position eva" reading "teh bestest book that is not a book" and my cousin happens to be sitting on the other end of the couch playing Super Mario 64 (LONGLIVEMARIO!). Now, I am trying my very best not to disturb him, but these sneaky giggles keep escaping me, and in the Lashasa Palulu tribe, it is considered socially rude to hold back laughter that is dying to escape, so I just had to let it out now and then or else be forever banned from civil society.

Finally, after I have dropped my head onto my knees and am almost crying from laughter, my cousin shakes his head in exhasperation and says, "It can't possibly be that funny."

Now I find myself in the aforementioned uncomfortable situation. Normally, if someone asks what I am laughing at in a book, I would hand them the item and point out for them to read "from here to here." However, Jon has his hands occupied with a controller paddle, and his eyes occupied with the TV, so I can't possibly use my normal method. I could try to explain the situation, but I just plain can't make it sound as awesome or as hilarious as the author. That leaves me with one choice--read the passage aloud.

I do not read out loud. I never read out loud--whenever I'm reading a book, it's either in private with no one to read to, or in full public where reading out loud would disturb the people around me (in more ways than one). I have never before found myself in the position where someone wanted to know something from a book in my hands and they couldn't read it themselves. The last time I read something aloud it was Shakespeare for my AP English class, and I fumbled my words almost as often as I got them right (which, I hate to admit, had very little to do with it being Shakespeare because I do the same with everything else).

So I sat there in silence and fought a debate with myself. On the one hand, I desperately needed to practice reading aloud because it's a good skill to have and something I should be doing with my own manuscripts. On the other hand, if I read aloud, I would most likely butcher the scene and be arrested immediately by the book police for premeditated scene slaughter of the third degree. On the other hand, I had run out of hands, and Jon was giving me weird looks while he waited.

So I took a deep breath and did the unthinkable. And now I am serving out a lifetime sentence in book jail.

On the bright side that is not a bright side, my chance for parole comes up in a few years, which gives me plenty of time to practice.

~ Lizzy
Current word count today: 18
Current song: Juliette by SHINee
Current quote: "Here is my problem in a nutshell: polite requests for Friday night dates can be accepted or rejected, laughed at or cried over, but I believe, even with my limited experience, that they are very rarely ingested." ~ John [You Don't Know Me, David Klass]

To Be Published . . . in a Different Manner

http://nothoughts2small.blogspot.com/2011/09/im-doing-giveaway-but-its-not-for-book.html

Hey, go check out Author Konstanz Silverbow's blog for a chance to appear in Karen Hoover's new book as a character! It's a wonderful feeling to see your name in print and know that it's not a coincidence, believe me. DO IT!!!

Short One Audience

So, I've mentioned Josh Groban thrice already on my blog (including this post, he'll have appeared in over 1/3 of my posts, haha), so by now you must know that I'm a hopeless Grobanite, yes? Sweet! In that case, permit me, I will speak of him once more, because sometimes the best lessons you learn come from the most familiar things.

Rewind to about 10:00pm Saturday, August 13th, 2011. Where am I? Energy Solutions Arena, Salt Lake City, Utah. What am I doing there? Listening to the most wonderful performer I've ever heard. And learning.

To be honest, I was terrified to see Josh Groban perform live in concert, and I'll explain why. It wasn't that I thought his live singing would be bad--psh, zero chance of that. What I was worried about was his personality and his singing motivation and his feelings toward fans. Why? Because I've absolutely loved artists in the past (authors, singers, actors) only to find that who they actually were contrasted sharply with their work. Someone's work can be completely clean and wonderful, but you just can't enjoy it when you have a nasty aftertaste from that time when you saw them live or met them and found out they have awful morals, or their sense of humor is comprised of sex jokes, or they hate their own fans, or they don't care at all about the work they do and they're only in it for money or fame or because it's easy for them.

So when Josh Groban finished his opening songs and picked up the microphone to start talking for the first time, I sunk low enough in my chair I almost couldn't see him anymore at the same time I had every bit of my attention riveted on him. I think I was tense enough that if someone would have poked me, I would have screamed bloody murder and jumped about four feet in the air. Luckily, no one did, and my tension drained a bit more with every minute. Because it turned out I had nothing to worry about.

There's one thing in particular I want to talk about. The longer Josh Groban performed, the more obvious it became how much he loved singing. Not only did he never sing a half-hearted song, but he never sang a half-hearted note. Every song he performed completely surpassed its CD counterpart because he poured so much energy into every instant. I honestly don't even know where it all came from except that he just loves his craft. Even when he was pouring sweat and panting when he talked between songs, his performance and his smile never dropped. It left me with the very vivid feeling that Josh Groban is one of those artists who loves what he does so much that he would still do it even if he didn't have a single person listening. He performs for his fans, but he sings for himself.

Seeing that in action made me wonder about my own craft. I think it's easy to lose sight of the reason you do something, and I realized that I've been lax in my writing lately because I was feeling the lack of an audience. I even stopped reading just because it stung to see someone who'd succeeded in something I loved so much but was getting nowhere in. I had that mindset of, "If no one sees it, if I'm the only one who likes it, what's the point?"

The point is that if you only do something for the attention it gains, you're only hurting yourself. If I don't want to write because I don't have an audience, I will never have an audience, because I won't have anything to gain one with. And if I only write to get praise from other people, I'll only feel happy in the one or two minutes of conversation where someone compliments me. It won't make me lastingly happy, and it won't be my best work because it won't have my heart and energy in it. I need to write for myself just because I love writing and it's what I want to do, with or without an audience.

And I do, actually. I have folders upon folders of writing on my computer to prove it that have never been seen by anyone, they were just written because I wanted to pour myself out on paper. I just lost my grip on that, is all. But I got it back on Saturday, and hopefully someday I'll be able to meet Josh Groban so I can thank him for it, right? (Now you all know my secret "if you could do anything" wish, haha)

So here's my focus back and in full force. I want to be published for an audience, but I want to write for myself!

~ Lizzy
Current word count today: 769
Current song: Oceano by Josh Groban

Current quote: "Be yourself. Above all, let who you are, what you are, what you believe, shine through every sentence you write, every piece you finish." ~ John Jakes

All Things Good to Those Who Comment

No Thought 2 Small: Giveaway time!!!!: "And now. . .. it's time. . .to win a copy of Darkspell!!(Will not be sent until the release of Darkspell Fall of 2011) Comment on this p..."

Run over to my friend Konstanz's blog and look at her interview with author Elizabeth Mueller--and if you comment on her giveaway post, you have a chance to win a signed copy of Elizabeth's new book Darkspell. DOOOOOOO IIIIIIIIIT!! :D

Cursed

I. Am. Cursed. No, really, it's true. I think that in my un-retainable baby memories somewhere, there's a day where a fairy/witch/troll/gnome/Voldemort/elf/mischeivious being appeared in my nursery, cackled some menacing evil cackle, and cursed me. Cursed me with what, you might say? Good question.

Credit to http://listaspiran.deviantart.com/ :)

Will I sleep for a hundred years after jabbing my finger on a needle (because that's my favorite way to spend my sixteenth birthday)? No, quite obviously I'm already older than sixteen. Will I become a beast locked away in a castle? I can be sarcastic, but I don't think I'm a jerk. Will I have to charade as a mime for three days and try to convince a prince to smooch me? As fun as that could be, neither I nor my prince are part fish (plus I haven't met him yet).

No, I am cursed to corrupt electronics. Total letdown, right? I know! It's not a cool curse that will lead me to Happily Ever After with a totally hot prince, it's just annoying. I hit a new curse record this week while house-sitting for a friend--I managed to jinx her TV on the first day so it wouldn't move from channel 23. Why 23? Ask the fairy/witch/troll/etc. After that, the music player on her computer became totally possessed and started collecting music in its library from some random source--not even cool music either. It was Christmas jingles! Why couldn't it snatch some Josh Groban or SHINee or Within Temptation or Jon Schmidt or something? No such luck.

As I sighed to myself about electronics, my phone decided to jump in on the party and stop vibrating to give me alerts. An hour after I expected a text, I checked it and saw the text bouncing on my screen, but it had never gone off. Checked the settings--sure enough, on vibrate. Held it in my hand waiting for the next text and, sure enough again, when it came in, the phone stared at me blankly like, "I'm not vibrating unless I get medical benefits now." Five minutes later, it decided it liked my ringtone and randomly switched back to the ring setting. Fine, phone, have it your way. At least it gave me some kind of alert after that.

More events piled up after that, naturally (picky PS2, snarky DVD player, and don't get me started on my iPod which is always possessed), and explaining them all to my friend when she returned was quite the fun time. But, here's the other great part about the curse--after my chi disrupts the spiritual flow of whatever electronic (or denies it medical), as soon as the original owner touches the machine, it is immediately restored. (Minus my stuff naturally, which is just stuck no matter what.) Which means that I get laughed at a lot, but that's okay, because I get these great stories out of it with no long-term effects.

Except! Mwah ha ha, the Christmas jingles remain in the music library. So, you know, Merry Early Christmas to my friend, unintentionally.