Some Writing Frustrations and Grievances and Bean Day

This morning I woke up and started working on an explanation of the poem I included in my Holocaust project (which you can read in the post called "Monumental Poem"). The project will be submitted soon, and I felt that I should explain the genius of the poem because, well...it's not all that clear. That is, I worked in right after searching my computer for fantasy stories I could work on - I've been pining for fantasy lately - and then getting frustrated because I always fail to plan a story out before I start to write it. I've started soo many stories, and I've finished a few also...but then I always end up looking back at what I wrote and thinking that it could have been better. (I have an undying admiration for authors of great fantasy or science fiction novels that manage to weave together a long and imaginative story that is fantastic from start to finish...I always get tired of mine at some point, and I hate myself for it!) Anyway, I found multiple stories, but I was afraid to work on any of them because I knew I'd just get carried away and wouldn't actually accomplish anything... But then I did what I'd turned my computer on to do, and wrote the explanation of the poem for my project. It's long, and I hope it's clear enough, and I'm sure I'll have to do some editing.

A few days ago...or was it yesterday? Yesterday, I believe... I woke up and one of the first things I did was write some more scene/conflict note cards for my novel! The one I started for NaNoWriMo...A Beginning For the End. I still love that one...and it still needs a lot of work. And it's still not close to finished, of course. But I did finish something in the note cards. Let's just say it has to do with the death of one of my characters, and it was rather jarring to realize that I'd finished a certain section of the note cards that morning... It was really sad!!!

That makes me feel more secure about my novel though - that I felt so strongly about the characters. It's hard to admit it but...I've never grown that attached to my characters before. Still, this was hard.

Just as I was beginning to compose an email in reply to the one from my mother, I heard some quite disturbing noises coming from the kitchen. First there was a loud sizzle, some harried commotion, and then a bang, angry sizzle, a follow-up bang, and a cry from my father. Hurrying our of my cave of blankets and pillows and books, I rushed down the hall, images of my father lying on the floor with boiling water scalding his face racing through my mind. I walked into the kitchen and was relieved to find nothing of the sort. My dad was standing in the middle of kitchen, an extremely disgruntled - no, that's an understatement - unimaginably annoyed and surprised expression on his face. I saw the wet floor, and the continued sizzle, but only after his words did I really know what was going on: "It's another bean day." That was when I looked up and saw, to my horror, our white stove covered in black and goopy "beanstuff," along with a semicircle of it bubbling on the ceiling. I sighed and said, "Oh no."

The reason I'm not going into much explanation here is because, frankly, I've had enough of that. Seven pages, in fact. When this happened last year I wrote a narrative of it. (That piece of writing, I did finish!) So I'm not really up for going into too much detail now - I'm a little beaned out. Basically, our pressure cooker exploded. Beanstuff got all over the place. It's not a pretty sight. Yada yada yada.

I asked my father what had happened, and it was this: he had heard the pressure cooker about to explode, and moved it off the burner, then, when it kept acting up, he had backed up hastily so as to not be right by the pot when it exploded, and slipped full-out on the wet floor, banging up against the open dishwasher and somehow jamming his finger. Neither of us are sure if the beans exploded before or after he actually fell, but whatever happened, it was not good.

Well, I helped him get some arnica for his rapidly swelling finger, and immediately began wiping the floor. (My mom called right in the middle of it... I'm sure our news wasn't the best to hear in the middle of her last day at work before spring break.) Thankfully, the mess wasn't nearly as bad as it was last time. Last time, there was beanstuff on the opposite wall of the kitchen. This time, it was at least consolidated to the area of the stove. Yes ,it went up to the ceiling, and in the little cracks of the vent-thing above our microwave, but it was not nearly as bad. So we cleaned, and we did pretty well. We talked, and had a nice time together. My dad and I were planning on doing something together today, so we got that accomplished easily!

Later on, I made biscuits. I didn't eat, accepting the cup of tea I had while working on my Holocaust project and last two bites (literally) of the pie from yesterday, for a really long time today. There was too much to do! But I even did a little bit of filing today! That. Is. Pretty. Cool. And the biscuits and salad I finally got to have sure were good. Now, however, I'm feeling kind of stressed and a little overwhelmed. Blogging helps, though. Blogging always helps.

Thanks, Blog... Or should I say, World of Words, since that's really what you are.