Word of the Day 1.0

A Stolen Quote

Perusing through FLB's blogger, love in the time of global warming, I re-stumbled onto this quote from Alice Flaherty, and fell completely in love. I'm pasting it here, but definitely check it and more out on this (old?) blog from Francesca Lia Block. She has beautiful poetry there that is so worth reading.

“Is it too reductionist then, to suggest that a major reason for creative writing is an abstracted version of the same biological urge that causes you to cry out in sorrow or anger? Let us call it the need theory of self expression. I cry out because some primitive part of me believes that when you cry out, someone warm and helpful comes. What do I need? It is not to have those tiny babies back. They were too small for me to remember; they have vanished like soap bubbles. I have two real children now. Nor do I want to return to the sunny, uniformly lit mental life I used to have, although there are aspects of that life that I miss.

In fact, during my postpartum break, I discovered a mystery: I loved my sorrow. It was as if I had been preparing all my life for that event, that I had entered into my birthright. When I was in graduate school, my husband and I lived in an apartment over a ruined garden that had a grapevine as thick as a child’s body, coiling up the fire escape to my window. At night I could lie in bed and reach out into the dark and pluck grapes to eat. My grief was like that, as if it had given me access to a shadowy world that lies so close to this one that when I concentrated I could push my arm into it and pluck dream fruit. It is a world where beauty cannot be separated from pain, and should not be, as when a scalpel is needed to expose the exquisite organs of the belly. A pen can be a scalpel too. 

I no longer know whether it is my children that I long for, or my sorrow. I have an irrational belief, left over from my sensible past, that if I tell enough people about this knot that is always pulled tight, someone somewhere will be able to loosen it. But my new self needs it always to be pulled tight. I don’t write toforget what happened; I write to remember. There are worse things in life than painful desire; one of them is to have no desire.”

Alice W. Flaherty THE MIDNIGHT DISEASE

This is from The Midnight Disease, by nueroscientist Alice Flaherty, which, of course, I had to look up. It's a [much debated] scientific look at the compulsion to write that many people feel.

Yeah, obviously I need to read it now. It sounds really neat.

And that many of the negative reviews say it was illogical and disorganized, incoherent and jargon-filled, doesn't hinder my desire to read it-- I like tangent-filled writing and psycho-babble (although it drives the editor in me so crazy) so I'm all in there.

I'll let you know how that goes...

What I Want

I want to be an editor. I want to be an editor very, very much.

I want to be an editor because I love words. Some people love art, or movies, or music, or animals, but I love words.

I love words more than I love stories, or libraries, or the smell of old books. What would they be without words? A book is no book without its story, and a good story –whether news or fiction – is nothing without the right words. Words describe and explain, praise and hurt, show love and show pain. Words have power.

I love beautiful words that mean beautiful, whimsical, tragic things. Quixotic. Nyctophilia. Heliophilia. Acatalepsy. Metanoia. Aubade. 

My spell-checker doesn't even know these words, but I do, and I love them.

I love the things we do with words. Poetry. Music. Conversation. Journalism. Even the way typography constantly improves the way words look. And, of course, I like to read and to write. I read epic fantasies and angst-ridden teen novels. I write science fiction and romantic dramas. I break grammar rules. I use comma splices. I love whimsical, experimental poetry where almost nothing makes sense at first glance. These things make me love words more. They make me love to play with them.

But none of these would be worth a thing without the right, beautiful, captivating words.

And although I like to string words together that I hope are right, to make a story I hope is good, I love reading other people's words more. I love editing.

I love growing to understand the choices behind each sentence and fixing them when they don't match up to their purpose. I love reading these stories and connecting-- at a deep, creative level-- with the authors, then helping them find the right words, the right combinations, the right punctuation, format and style, to make it exactly what they want.

I love the creativity. The creation. The challenge.

A perfectly written book may be captivating, but for me it's also boring. Give me a brilliant plot marred with rapid point-of-view switches, pathetic grammar and continuity errors that make you cringe. Give me news stories with terrible spelling and facts that have to be triple-checked and checked again. I love projects I can tear to pieces and rebuild twice as well. I like interpreting faults in each text and turning them into strengths, working with writers, bloggers and creators to make their work the best it can be.

I can break things down to find their core. I can pick out the poignant moments that make a scene glimmer, rise, or fall. Most of all, I can hear the voice. I can hear the way a story halts and stutters and flows. A wonderful story is wonderful, but a wonderfully written story is beautiful.

I'm creative, but practical. Critical, but constructive. Determined and helpful. Insightful and inquisitive. I understand the problems of both readers and writers because I am both. And though I may be a reader at heart, I am an editor by nature, and I can't imagine a single other thing I want to do for the rest of my life.

I am looking for new opportunities in the Editing and Publishing because this is what I want to do. I want to know the industry inside and out. I want to learn the best way to use every word and how to make each one count the most for its writer. How to use punctuation and grammar and style for the absolute best result, and understand when breaking those very rules benefits the writer -- and their readers-- more than they detract from the text itself.

I've spent the last few years doing freelance editing work for independent publishers, writers, bloggers and students. Throughout it all, no bad story, terrible grammar or difficult client -- no challenge at all -- has turned me away from the field.

This is what I want to do.

A Little Light Reading

Okay, so, crazy change of subject: me!

Just kidding. I write about me all the time.

But I want to do a little "plug" for my new writing endeavors on JukePop.com

JukePop is a really interesting site made for readers and indie writers to connect and develop working relationships via serialized updates of the writer's work.
So, a writer begins their novel on the site, posting one chapter at a time, and updates periodically  -- often or sporadically -- so that readers can follow them, read each serialized chapter, and offer opinions, praise, critiques, questions, etc. Readers can also donate to the writer, as well as encourage and promote their favorite stories.

I love the concept, and I really hope the site grows and gains more dedicated readers and followers.

the generic Romance cover

So I've uploaded the beginnings of two of my works-in-progress.
My poetry baby, inspired by the works of YA authors like (of course) Francesca Lia Block, Ellen Hopkins, etc. -- Poison In Her Blood (which is the newest working title)

Three tales of poison, reinvented.

Sephony can't watch the man she loves with another woman, and runs, losing herself in an underground club with bodies that writhe like souls, and an owner like shards of ice, with a ruby-red addiction.

Winter has a mother she adores, but who envies her youth and beauty. After spending her life trying to make her mother proud, Winter falls in love with a dazzling young girl, and want's to impress her, instead. But her mother will do anything to keep Winter quiet, and still, and all to herself.

Evie stands under the tallest tree in the woods, considering the dangerous offer that was whispered in her ear, and whether she can live with the consequences of her choice.

My writing obsession of the year, The Life We Didn't Live. A fantasy-woven romance inspired by the craziest dream that I could just never forget.

"Your time-line is wrong..."

Iris McEwan has dreams about a man she can't see. She feels sorrow she can't explain. She clings to the only thing in her life she feels sure about; her daughter, Ella.

But when a stranger at a carnival makes her suspect something unsettling -- and impossible -- about her life, she begins a trip through memories of her past, and a past she doesn't remember having.

So, if you have a moment and are looking for something to read, try these two fantasy reads. 

I got a comment on TLWDL really quickly, which boosted my hopes for it's success on the site, but I haven't gotten any since. I'd really like to see some more reactions before I post more chapters.

Please check it out!

Post Script :: Summertime Sadness

this was supposed to have been posted early this past summer. i was having trouble with my depression and couldn't get into the me i wanted to be and how i wanted to be living my life. this is the short post i wrote then trying to describe the feeling.

Despite its name, Lana Del Rey's song doesn't seem to be about sadness at all.

"I'm feelin electric tonight"
"I'm feeling alive!"
"I'm on fire, I feel it everywhere, nothin scared me anymore"

None of these lines scream misery to me. Instead they bathe in the summer sun and feel full and bright and alive dancing amongst drum circles and bon fires on the beach.
The song feels like it's thrumming with energy. With life.

But with the heat of the summer sun, the bright days and warm night's and heavy storms and cool breezes, I still can't connect to it.
I've known for a while that my depression hits hardest in the summer. I've never really figured out why, but it's there.
Maybe it's that I'm surrounded by people that don't understand what that feels like; feeling so full of light and life and potential, like your skin is singing. They aren't as active or creative or desperate to move as I am, and that knowledge has stunted me- makes me not want to go through the effort of forcing myself to do things on my own or convincing others to join in, not to mention coming up with the plans/activities themselves all on my own every single time.

posted from Bloggeroid

when you're away my nightmares play...

I'm not sure what, exactly, has been keeping me away from this site.
I've been busy, yes, and a lot of my online life has suffered and slipped away because of it. I've been working more to get in lots of hours and get out of debt, I'm been "adult-ing" more (i had to get insurance, buy a car, figure out my credit cards, etc.), while there's also been NaNoWriMo, of course, and I've been surprisingly social lately, which is cool, but tiring, and I'm slowly but surely realizing that I absolutely have to get to the gym and fix my diet or I'm going to get to the point-of-no-return in my weight-gain, which has been on my mind a lot. I'm certainly nowhere near heavy or anything now, but I'm Puerto Rican; once too many pounds add up, they're not comin back off.

But my NaNo book is coming along pretty well (I cheated a little by continuing a story I've been thinking about for a long time) and with the exception of being sick today and having to give away a shift saturday, I'm getting enough hours at work that I just might be able to pay both my new car payment and my rent this month. We'll see.


But this blog.

This blog is my love child, and continues to weave in and out of obsession territory.
I still have chunks of blog posts and character profiles and inspirational people and food breakdowns of books and details on other awesome blogs in my Drafts pile, just waiting to be finished and put out into the world via this site!
But I keep getting lazy. I keep forgetting.
I keep being tired and bored and miserable and lame.

No more!

I'm working on all the articles I can think of right now, and -- more importantly --   The next time you want a post (if there's anybody out there, that is) or want to write one for the blog yourself (i love guest posts!) please please email me!
I aim to please and I want this blog to thrive again!!!!
Ellie.S.Vale@gmail.com

Magic Summer Longings

Longer ago than I'd like to admit, I made a post dedicated to Lana Del Rey.
It was pretty much just me blabbing about how much I love her music.

But really, at the time, what I loved was how it made me feel. Like soft breezes and summer skies and being by the pool or driving with the windows down in the warm sunlight.
And at that time, I wanted nothing more than the summer.

So while I've searched for artists like Lana (spoiler: I haven't found one) I've started looking for music that makes me think of hanging out in the summer time in one way or another.

After a few suggestion requests on Facebook and the like, I so far have this playlist of about 75 songs.

I want to play it while lounging by the pool, driving through the middle of nowhere, and drinking outside on warm nights.
I call it my Summer Life Affair list, because this year I want to have a love affair over the summer. But instead of a person or place, it's me, my world, my life. I want nothing more, this summer, than to fall back in love with my life.
I'm desperate for it.

Enjoy.