Christmas, a time for reading?

Merry Christmas.

This year, for the first time I can recall I did not receive any books for Christmas.
But do not fear, my family continues to fuel my writing by keeping me well stocked with journals and writing materials!

Right before the Holidays I moved into my own place. A new little space that is my own and although I'm still in the process of setting it up to be conducive to writing, I've had quite a lot to write.

I've been doing a lot of editing and preliminary brainstorming for a more in depth plot for a couple of my books, and working on a MAJOR rewrite *Salutes HIMYM style* for TToA. I've also started a second blog that does not have anything to do with writing (except that I write it) it's about  my recent experiences getting a puppy.
If you are thinking about getting a dog and want to sympathise, or know what questions to ask, what to expect, or are just interested please check out my other blog:

http://brandyandabiscuit.blogspot.ca/

When I realized I hadn't received any books a curious thought occurred to me, "My reading list hasn't gotten any bigger!" Without more books piling up on my bedside table I might actually have time to catch up on my reading list!

Currently I am reading "The Time Traveler's Wife" by Audrey Niffenegger.

Merry Christmas to All! I hope your stockings were full of good reads! Anyone get a great read I should add to my bedside table?

-Brandolyn

Little Poem

Yesterday I saw a movie trailer that really got my heart pumping. It was well composed, well designed and cleverly built drama through the trailer and left me thoroughly wanting to know what happens at the end. I found the entire experience very interesting and exciting. 

I've always wanted to create that kind of experience for someone reading my work, and I could barely believe that the makers of this movie trailer were able to achieve it in such a short time, so I decided to try. I wanted to write a building drama that leaves the reader wanting more, in the least amount of words possible. 

This is my first attempt. 

                   Guy smashes window, screaming girls name, whilst house is on fire.
11 words.

                   Guy smashes window, screaming girls name, while the house burns.
10 words.

I'm not sure which one I like more, but it's a start. I'll keep writing short drama snipits, I really like the idea and think it's a great way to practise setting action and anticipation for longer stories.

If you want to try it yourself, find a song, a movie trailer or anything that you find exciting and use it as inspiration. Write about the song, or movie, write about anything that struck you, stuck with you or that inspired you. Try to write something action packed with as few words as possible. If it starts off as a paragraph, that's OK. In this case starting big is OK, work your way down to less words if you want to, but they key is to write! Keep writing and have fun! Enjoy the drama, the excitement and the thrill of leaving your reader wanting more.

-Brandolyn

There's something to be said for being stuck....

Simply put: Writer's Block.

Lately I've been more than a little pre-occupied with other aspects of my life, and sadly writing has taken a back seat to most of it. It's not that my creativity hasn't been flowing, in fact, I've come up with some amazing stories, plots and characters in the past couple months while this blog has been waiting for me to get back to it. What I've been struggling with is my focus.

I desperately want to focus on the 1st book of my trilogy, but every time I pick up the first draft to edit it, and re write it, I just stare at the work, as I'm overcome by it. Editing is a daunting task to begin with, but when I set out to rewrite it, it became harder to get enthused, because I kept writing the same story.
I knew I wanted to change the original, something was missing, but I couldn't figure out what it was so that I could add it, or subtract it and change the make up of the book.
It wasn't until today, after being thoroughly upset that I wasn't actually changing anything but wording from my 1st draft to my second that I realized one of the key factors that I had reservations about, and to my surprise it was my antagonist.

The antagonist of my 1st novel is the creation of my elementary school self who didn't understand the politics of love and war, and only saw the cut and dry Good vs Evil of many beloved animated films. My antagonist had no reason for being who she was, she also had no reason for being in the story at all- she was there because "all stories need a villain".

So, I spent the day recreating her. I spun a web of drama surrounding her creation, her upbringing and entwined it with the history of the country, religions and characters I'd already developed in the story. At the end of the day my antagonist was a ghost of her former character, and still thin as a skeleton compared to most other antagonists, (she still needs a lot of work) but I had found something that I was missing; a whole story. Now all of my characters have motivations, reasons for being and doing what I've written them to do, instead of doing things because I thought it sounded cool, no, they all have a purpose, and their story has a reason for being told.

Once again, I am excited to tell this story and can't wait to finish writing it so I can share it with anyone who will read it.

-Brandolyn

[my word counts haven't changed on the computer, but I have a few more journals full of notes and new chapters from various stories and story lines but I am unable to guesstimate my current word counts. I will update my counts when I transfer my notes to the computer!]

World Suicide Prevention Day

September 10th is World Suicide Prevention Day. 

If you have heard of this day you will probably have heard of or seen people wearing Yellow today, or writing LOVE on their arms to raise awareness for Suicide Prevention. 

Today, as I sought to join the action, I realized that my wardrobe has a serious lack of Yellow, and although I wrote the iconic LOVE on my arm, I felt my contribution to the movement was disturbingly small. 

A Suicide Prevention Day should not come once a year. 

There should be a day, everyday, for everyone.

For families and friends affected by the loss of a loved one, everyday is "S.A.D" Suicide Awareness Day. To those who are currently struggling with their lives, and think it is too much to bear, every day should be a Family Awareness Day, and to every suicide survivor and their loved ones, everyday is a Blessing. 

I wish there was more that the general public could do for people affected by thoughts of suicide or by a friend or loved one struggling with depression. A yellow t-shirt can get lost in the rainbow of colours in a crowd and a word on an arm can be covered by a sleeve or bracelet. 

My plan to increase awareness of depression, suicide and the pain left over afterwards, is to start writing about it. I have a small assortment of short stories that are still in the research phase, that I would like to share in the near future. Hopefully, one day, suicide will be better understood, and easier to talk about. When that happens, it'll be a lot easier for most people to say "I'm worried about you. I care for you. How can I help?"

My deepest wish is for anyone, and everyone struggling with thoughts of suicide to have someone to fight for them. I wish for them to have someone to stand with them and fight for them. I will fight for every person I meet, and I volunteer to anyone who cannot find that person to hold them up , even if we have never met, I will fight for you. You, your life, your struggles and your story matter. I will fight for you and I will do whatever I can to help you. 

Feel free to reach out to me, but if you cannot, and you or a friend is having thoughts of suicide please use any of the following helplines. 

www.kidshelpphone.ca/

www.itgetsbetter.org/Resources

www.torontodistresscentre.com/distress.shtml

www.suicidehotlines.com/canada.html

I will fight for you. 

What is Productivity?

I have managed to have a sort of epiphany regarding my work habits and my productivity over the last few weeks.

Last week, while work at my job was scarce, my family was working, or on vacation which left me home alone, feeling very much like the beloved spotted canine companion Pongo, watching the clock until Roger was done his work and ready to play with him. 

I spent a lot of time watching the clock, counting down the hours until someone would come home. If I had a dog, I would have made its' day and taken it for a 1000 walks, instead I have cats, who wanted absolutely nothing to do with me, and in fact, seemed a little put off that I was hanging around so much. 

After deciding that staring at a clock was indeed a colossal waste of time, in every sense, I decided to literally get up off my ass and do something. That amounted to this,

In 48 hours I:

-Baked 2 dozen chocolate chip cookies

-Baked a tray of brownies

-Sew a hat

-Knit a scarf

-Knit 2 leg warmers

-Cleaned the kitchen

-Sew a dress

At the end of the 48 hours, my belly hurt from all the treats, my fingers had blisters from the knitting and my wardrobe had new items in it, but I still felt like even though I had a list of accomplishments (some of which I got to check off my to do list "Make yourself a dress") I still hadn't really been productive. 

I did a lot of stuff, but none of it was stuff I really wanted to do. What I wanted to do in that time was to write, to read, to further my career, to learn something, to spend time with family, and friends, etc. 

Today I only have a short list of accomplishments, but my day was far more productive. 

Work at my Theatre is still slow, so when an opportunity arose for me to help out an old employer I leaped at the opportunity. I was contracting today. Nothing super complicated, or physically gruelling. Today I helped to install Crown Moulding in a living room. It was immensely fulfilling to take down the old Crown Mould and put up new stuff. This job is not foreign to me, I have done this before, but this time I got to see what the previous contractors had done wrong, and saw the difference to how we did it right. We did not cut corners because the job got tricky, we just did it properly because that's what we're paid for and how we're trained. 

I also had an interview for a backstage costuming gig for a show coming to our theatre. It was with an old mentor of mine (who has no idea who I am) and we discussed the show, my experience in the field, and my expectations of the job. The interview went really well, and I got the job. 

Today I did 2 things, well 3 if you include writing a blog post, far fewer "things" than I did last week in 48 hours, however, today I did things I wanted to do: I learned how NOT to install Crown Moulding, and I wrote (this blog), and I furthered my career by getting a new job to add to my resume. THIS day I found far more productive, because it was fulfilling, I did things that matter to me and that I get joy and a sense of satisfaction from. 

My day today makes me proud of myself. My days last week, although entertaining, were far too 1960's for me to be comfortable with. Honestly, if you saw the dress I made, it looks exactly like I took it out of the musical Hairspray. 

Now I am off to continue my productive day. I'm off to spend some quality time with my family :)

Old Story, New Spin

I realised the other day that the Trilogy I am currently working on has been with me a long time.

I have been reorganising my room to be a more creative space, and one of the things I did was de-clutter, by sorting through and recycling old notebooks I have had taking up valuable space on my book shelves. In one of these notebooks, actually it was an old sketchbook, I found the original first page of Book 1. There was my name, the Title of the book, and the date. That`s it, the rest of the page was blank.

I have often found blank pages overwhelming, but in this instance I guess I found the title overwhelming and could not proceed on that page. Or perhaps, however unlikely, I thought the title was so perfect that the page already had enough significant information on it. Either way, the part I found most amazing was that the page was dated 2002.

2002. That was 10 years ago! I have had this world, these characters and their stories developing for 10 years. If I hadn't seen the date on the page in my own writing then I wouldn't have believed that my story is 10 years old.

 In some of the other books I found sketches and drawing I had done while trying to create my characters. I remembered every drawing, and was surprised to see so many characters that I had created, but never written into the story.

10 years have gone by since I roughed out the first draft of Book 1. It has stayed mostly untouched, written at a grade 9 reading level on one of my many shelves waiting for me to get back to it.
The story and it's characters have never left me, and I have developed it bit by bit over the years, but until last year I wasn't taking my writing as seriously as I should have been.

Years ago I reread the first draft of Book 1 and although the plot and characters are dynamic and captivating, the story was abysmally disappointing. Apparently grade 9 me was not at all interested in sharing details with her readers.
I have been intending to rewrite the draft of Book 1 completely, but I always seem to get bored by the task of editing and instead move onto Book 2 which I have been writing consistently for the past 13 months.

Writing is rarely a challenge for me, but getting the motivation to know what to focus on, and complete is nearly impossible; proven by the multitude of part stories scattered through assorted journals in my room.

I realised I had to decide what I wanted out of my writing- I want to share it, and in order to share it I need a literary agent to work with, and in order to start looking for agents, I need a partial, if not full, manuscript to present them with. As the only manuscript I have at the moment is of Book 2, I figured I should let Book 2 sit for a bit while I focus on the original; the start of my Trilogy.

I have been diligently picking away at Book 1 and performing a near complete rebuild of the novel. Without me realising it, the world I had developed in my head, in my drafts and in Book 2 is nearly unrecognisable to the world I had originally created in Book 1. Until I picked up the terrifying Red Pen for the editing process I didn't realise how much my perception of the story as a whole had changed from my initial creation.

I thought I would be disappointed, but instead I am pleased to realise that I am proud of the changes. My high schooler's doodles and scribbles have turned into near fully rendered characters and situations.

The story has matured, and like fine wine, although without the oaky finish, I am deeply satisfied with it.

-Brandolyn

G-18,020 <---Book 1
TToA- 89,415 <---Book 2
TDotRQ-37,276<---Book 1 of another series I am writing

Sorry for the Hiatus

As the title suggests I'd like to appologize to my followers for my prolonged hiatus.

I have been in the midst of an internal struggle trying to choose where to focus most of my energy.
I had to choose between writing (which will one day hopefully be my fulltime job) and my current job working at a Play House.
Sadly working at the Play House won. I chose to focus on the job that is currently making me money (silly of me? Perhaps,) but that is not to say that I haven't been working on my craft at all this summer.

Over the past few months I have had the opportunity to read a few books that have been sitting on my dresser waiting for me to put my pen down. I missed the smell of old books. I missed the feel of old brittle pages as I delicately turn the page anxious to get to the next paragraph, but most of all, I miss the euphoria of being lost in someone else's story.
It's second nature to fall into my own stories, I know them so well that I can picture everything in the surroundings, even if I haven't mentioned it in the book (I'm working on that), but to be lost in someone else's world is a gift. From a writer's perspective it's interesting as well to see how other authors develop their worlds so thoroughly.

I haven't been blogging, but I assure you I did not stop writing. Anyone with something they are itching to share knows that you never stop thinking about it, and over the summer I cannot begin to explain how my current trilogy has developed.
My Trilogy has matured into something that I know I love, but I hardly recognize as the stories I started with.

I am very proud of my progress and look forward to sharing more of my creative journey with you!

Thanks for hanging around!

-Brandolyn

G-18,020
TToA- 89,415
TDotRQ-37,276

Looking for feedback.

Below is a short story I wrote several months back. I wrote this story by going way outside my comfort zone and using the first person narrative style- which  I have not used since high school.

The story is pretty much a dialogue which has occurred several times in my own head when I think of the impact MS has and may have on my life, and I final forced myself to put it on paper in an attempt to quell the inner dialogue and come to terms with or at least try to deal with it. It hasn't solved anything, but I feel it has helped. I hope this will help others one day, once it's primed and polished.

I feel my judgement is clouded when I review this story and I cannot see its flaws, specially since it has been such a long time since I have tried to write from the first person in a story. I would love some constructive criticism to help me shape it up.

I would be willing to hear any advice you can give me.


A Mothers' Instinct

            As the door swings open I call out a soft “Good morning, Helen” and stand in the doorway waiting for an invitation inside. Helen answers with her usual dry cheerfulness.  

“Good morning, come on in. Would you like a cup of tea or coffee?”

“No thanks. I had one on my way.” I lie. I hate coffee, there’s something about the smell that makes my stomach churn. I bow my head in appreciation of the offer anyway and take a seat in my favourite chair; a worn out leather recliner. The chair isn’t very old, but the soft leather has cracked from consistent use. I don’t mind, even damaged, it’s still the best chair in the room.

“How do you feel today?” Helen asks as she takes a seat in a fancy white, spindle legged chair.

“Fine.” I reply.

“What do you feel today?” She asks. I hate when she asks me this. I shrug my shoulders non-committedly. “Brooke?” I can tell by her tone of voice as she says my name that she’s starting to get annoyed with me. I take momentary satisfaction in her frustration before replying.

“I’m confused.” I mumble.

“Alright. What’s confusing you?”

“Selfishness is bad right?” I ask.

Helen removes her thick rimmed glasses and looks at me trying to analyze whether or not that was a serious question. Her thin, perfectly tweezed eyebrows arch up in a silent question asking me, What do you think?

Another sigh escapes me. “Yeah, alright, being selfish is bad. I get it, but what if every fibre of your being is telling you otherwise?”

“Then you wouldn’t feel confused would you?” Helen teases as she replaces her glasses and leans forward in her chair, resting her chin on one hand. “What’s bothering you?” She probes. I sigh again. I like Helen quite a lot, but she is rather nosey.

“I’m 27 years old. I’ve been married to my husband for 3 years; we’ve been together for 8. We have a lovely house, a truck, two amazing dogs and one very old goldfish. I have a full time job during the week and I volunteer with the hospital on weekends.”

“And this is bothersome?”

I shake my head. “Of course not. I have a great life, but I know something’s missing and if I want to try to fill the gap..” I pause while I search my brain for the right words, “Well, I’m afraid I might do it for the wrong reasons.”

Helen smirks.

Damn, I think. I know that look. When Helen opens her mouth I know the words she is going to say before she speaks them. “Brooke, you’re dancing around the subject. What’s missing? What do you want?”

I sink deeper into my chair and look out the window seeking comfort away from Helen and her small room. I watch out the window as a beautiful Irish Setter bolts by, its leash bounces along behind it dragging on the sidewalk. A moment later a young man in sweat stained clothes runs by following in the dogs’ wake. He yells back to a woman; I assume she is his wife, as she pushes a stroller running after him calling frantically for the man to catch their beloved pet.

I would have laughed, had I not been jealous of the scene outside. I have the athletic husband, I have the renegade furry companions, and I can keep up with them all but it was the stroller in the running scene that caught my eye. Helen had noticed, and I blushed as I sink further back into my cracked leather chair.

“Well?” Helen inquires, taking a sip from her cup of tea. Her burgundy lacquered pinkie finger sticks out as she lifts the cup to her lips. “What do you want?” She repeats.

“I want a baby! Alright? I want children.” I snap back. I practically jump from my seat at her, like a caged jungle cat. I was harsher than I had intended to be. I apologise immediately.

“It’s alright.” She assures me, while continuing putting her tea cup back down on the table between us. “Do you think having a baby would be selfish?”

As I nod my gaze returns to the window. I can’t look at her. I’m afraid I might lash out at her again, and none of it is her fault; I know that.

“Why?”

Why, should be an easy question to answer, and perhaps it is, but the answer still seems complicated. “Why?” I ask in return, “Why not?”

“Does your husband want children?”

“He would love children.” I admit sadly.

“Then what’s the problem?”  

She’s prying now, I think dully and sit back in my chair silently, unwilling to share anymore. Helen sits quietly and waits sipping her tea again, watching me, waiting for me to speak. I don’t.

Helen realises I am not about to speak up, so she breaks the silence with a touchy question; one she knows I don’t like. Her voice is light as a feather as she speaks. The forbidden question is delivered very delicately. “Do you think having a child is selfish because of your disease?”

Unable to control myself I stand up and start pacing the small room in an attempt to control my frustration. I walked circles around the chairs, the desk and past the filing cabinets that line the walls, the whole time making sure to keep my eyes away from meeting hers. Completing my second circuit of the room the reality of Helen’s question hits me and my eyes automatically fill with tears. Overcome and unable to respond, I sit back into my chair. My hands involuntarily curl into fists as I try to keep the tears from pouring down my face uncontrollably.

I notice that while I had been pacing Helen had placed a small square box of tissues on the table between us. It was light blue, like the walls of the office. I notice it was a nice gesture and I grab a couple tissues as a precaution, waiting for Helen to speak again.

I wait a few minutes for her to speak but Helen remains silent, waiting for me. I looked up at her pleading for her to continue. My eyes must have been huge; swollen with tears and round with desire and pain, she must see all my pain for her to look at me with such pity.

“Brooke, you have Multiple Sclerosis, from what you’ve told me the disease affects your brain and your nerves; it has nothing to do with your reproductive system. It doesn’t mean that you cannot have children.”

“It does. I want a baby, but what if I pass the disease onto my child? My child did not ask for that! They will be suffering for my desire to have a child for their entire life!”

“The odds are,” Helen starts, but I cut her off before she can tell me the odds of passing my disease onto my children.

“If my child got sick it would be my fault!”

“What if your baby was healthy? You and your husband could have happy, healthy children.” Helen explains. She’s right, there is a chance, but the chance seems far too small for me to pin all my hopes on.

“And what if my children are healthy?” I repeat. “If my children are healthy, they will grow up with a mother with failing health and who will not be able to do all the things she wants to do with them. If my health fails and they have to take care of me, what kind of life would I have brought them into?”

“You could adopt a child.” She suggests.

“Even if I adopt a child, do they deserve a mother that they might have to take care of? Do I subject my potential children, blood or not, to a broken mother?”  Even I hear the venom in my voice as I say it, but it makes my statement that much more true.

“Brooke, you are not broken, you have Multiple Sclerosis, and with every disease comes certain challenges. Obviously, you are a passionate woman. You are a caring and loving person, with your head firmly planted on your shoulders. You know more about the world than a lot of other people; its dark sides, and the light ones.” She pauses, and waits for me to digest what she has said before she continues.

“You are also a very smart woman. You are weighing all of your options, and I can see you care a great deal about your children’s’ future, but there are things in this world that are out of our control. If you have a child, and it does not inherit your disease, it still may have another issue; whether it has a heart condition, allergies, Asthma, or struggles with depression or eating disorders as it grows up. You cannot control everything. If your child is sick, whether from MS or something completely different, you will love that child with every single piece of your heart anyway, because they will be yours, and they will be the most precious thing in the world to you.”

“Then what do I do?” I whisper.

“Do the things you can control. Take your vitamins, eat healthy, stay on your medications, start saving for your kids’ college fund, child proof your house! Talk to your husband Brooke, he’ll be able to help. If you both want kids you will have to be a team, you will not be raising the child alone.”

“What if I get worse?” I spin the white gold wedding band on my ring finger nervously.

“You have your husband, your friends and your family. If your symptoms flare up again and you have another MS attack you will not be by yourself, and your children will not be alone and burdened to take care of you. If you have to be taken care of there are many people in your life who love you and will want to take care of you.”

Her last words ring in my ears: There are many people in your life who love you and will want to take care of you. I look up at her, the corners of my mouth twitching, wanting to smile but I fight the urge after years of trying not to get my hopes up.

“So it’s not selfish for me to want children?” I ask. As I say it, I feel the warmth of hope starting to creep out from my core, trying to reach my extremities. I try to push it back, but somehow my iron grip on the fantasy dream of having a healthy family has slipped, and the hopeful smile I had been denying for years is starting to grow.

Helen’s bright green eyes squint with the force of her smile as she replies, “As your therapist Brooke, I cannot answer that question for you. You have to tell me.”

At that, I smile.

What did you think? Leave me a comment or personal message. All help is greatly appreciated :)

Detour!

The sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach I get when I'm driving somewhere new, following my GPS's ridiculous directions and I see the- all too familiar- orange "DETOUR AHEAD" sign is the same feeling I get while writing when I notice my novel isn't going the way I thought it would.

I make the same groaning noise I do when I'm in my car and think to myself, "Great, now I have to go way out of my way to get to where I want to be." I look at the clock and sigh. "This is going to take a while."

I can even hear the calm, yet ever annoying "Make a legal U-Turn if possible" female voice of my GPS telling me to turn and drive away from that detour sign as fast as possible. Let's face it, there's never a legal U-Turn lane when you want one, so I drive on through and follow the detour and let it whisk me away.

I find when writing, it is often prudent to follow the detours. Especially with the way I write; simple plot outlines, and then follow my fingers wherever they lead me, detours are often (like in reality) caused by improvements. When I hit a detour in my writing it is because I am metaphorically (obviously), repaving my plot's route.

Tonight the detour I hit involves a major character, rather than a plot point. I realised tonight while writing the climax and final battle of TToA that the major antagonist is nothing more than a hollow shell of the antagonist I want him to be. It took less than a second from when I realised he was hollow to figure out how to "fix" him. If I had been driving, my forehead would have fallen against my car's horn, unfortunately the space bar has a much less fulfilling result. Instead of a prolonged blast of a horn that echoed the yell in my mind, all i got was an above average space between two words in my document and a rectangular red mark on my brow.

I am pleased that I won't have to completely scrap my novel because of a flawed character, but I am disappointed it took me so long to realise it. I feel like I am blinded by the unconditional pride I have for every character I create and I cannot easily see their flaws.

I had a goal to finish this novel, editing and all before the start of July and now, with this rewrite I fear I may have a hard time reaching that goal. *fingers crossed*

Wish me luck. Also, if you feel so inclined, wish my characters luck, the antagonist is truly horrendous now. 

Estimated date of "Completion" (Completion= prelim edits and good enough for other people to read)
TToA- July 1st 2012
G- September 1st 2012
Everything else, TBD

-Brandolyn

G-7,278
TToA- 80,163
TDotRQ-37,276

A Little Useful MS Information

The MS Walk was held on April 22nd, and I am proud to say that $2,770  was raised by my team alone. Thank you so much to everyone who came out to walk with me, who donated or sent words of wisdom and support. It is all appreciated.
On the date, our chapter of the walk raised over $81,000 that will go toward MS research in the hopes of finding a cure. (I have yet to hear how much was raised across Canada on the day)

However, in the interim while waiting for a medical miracle I have found a very handy little video.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KLjgBLwH3Wc

The speaker is Dr. Terry Wahls. She has MS and found the disease incredibly disabling, even while being treated with the same medications that have been recommended for myself. Although I am having a positive experience on the same drug therapy, this doctor's inspiring story has opened my eyes to more things I can do to help my body.

Recently I went to my MS doctor and asked for a diet that he would recommend to MS patients. He said there was no definitive, or tested diet for people with MS but recommended I try a Dairy FREE, Gluten FREE diet for general health.

It has been 4 weeks on this new diet, and I feel fantastic. It may be the Sun that has finally decided to grace us with its presence, or the fact that the school year has officially ended, instead of  the diet but either way I feel amazing.
2 weeks into my Dairy FREE, Gluten FREE diet I was sent this video in an email from my boyfriends' mother. She got it from a friend who had heard I had MS and thought the video might help. Immediately after seeing the video I started planning out all the food I had to eat. I started Dr. Wahl's eating regimen the day after.

Although it is A LOT of food, and my grocery bills have increased because of it I would recommend this to anyone who is struggling with MS, or anyone who just wants to keep their body in good shape.
Even if you cannot give up Gluten and/or Dairy (believe me, I have my cheat days) my philosophy when it comes to Dr. Wahl's diet, is "It can't hurt." Who couldn't do with some more Fruits and Veggies?? And knowing which vegetables are good for different parts of your development and physical health is very handy too.

I would recommend this to parents with young families as well, to promote your children's growth and development.

Please understand, I am not Dr. Wahls, nor am I a Doctor, I am just someone who is passing on information that seems to be working for me. I hope it helps you too. Please consult your personal doctor about diets, your own health situation, supplements and your dietary needs.

-Brandolyn

MS Walk

April is the busiest time of year; at least for me.

At work I am in the middle of Dance Season.
At school I am in the middle of Exams.
In life I am desperately trying to hold it all together.

April is also the biggest month of the year for Fund raising for Research to try and find a cure for Multiple Sclerosis. I was diagnosed with MS 6 years ago, and have been on several different medications and treatment plans in the hopes to try to control the effects of the disease.
Most of the time I'm doing very well. At the moment my body seems to be holding up remarkably well, but this has not always been the case.
I have been temporarily paralyzed as an infant, and in my adolescence, I am partially blind in one eye, I cannot feel my toes and I have decreased sensitivity all over my body (ie, if my phone vibrates in my pocket, 90% of the time, I will not feel it) and this is at a good time.

I am not upset with the cards I have been dealt. The challenges I have faced have made me a fighter, and a strong willed and stubborn person; in a good way (i think). I have risen to the occasion and make peace with my situation everyday, I am glad for my current good health and I am thankful for the recoveries I have made in the past.
Every year since my diagnosis my family and friends and I have walked in the Super Cities Walk for Multiple Sclerosis. I believe that my family and friends walk to support me, I walk for everyone else. 

There are many other people who are in worse shape than I am. There are people who have been fighting this disease for longer than I, there are people who have just received their diagnosis and there are people anxiously awaiting a diagnosis. There are people who have been more permanently affected (whether physically or psychologically) by this disease than I have, and I raise funds and walk every year to give them hope.

If you have MS, or know someone who is affected by the disease please make sure that they know that there are thousands of people out there that are supporting them, wishing and praying for a cure and doing what they can; even if it's just giving pocket change, to raise money for MS research.
Last year, the chapter of the MS Walk that my team attended raised over $50,000.

If you can, please support myself, or my team by pledging us. Brandy's Bandits.

My page:
http://mssoc.convio.net/site/TR/MSWalk/OntarioDivision?px=1228615&pg=personal&fr_id=1294

or my team:
http://mssoc.convio.net/site/TR/MSWalk/OntarioDivision?pg=team&fr_id=1294&team_id=5794

Thank you for your support.

***PLEASE NOTE***
If you have MS, have a friend or family member who has MS, or are affected by this disease in any way, I am available and willing to answer ANY questions that you may have to the best of my abilities, and I would love to support you however I can.
If you want to reach out to me, don't be shy, please feel free. I want to help.
I can share tips, tricks, warning signs, diets, everything and anything that has been helping me to keep MS at bay.

MS FACTS:
-MS is a complex degenerative disease that affects the nervous system
-MS affects men and women
-Women are more than 3 times more likely to develop MS than men
- It is usually diagnosed between the ages of 18-40
-Canadians have the highest rates of people living with MS
-Everyday 3 more Canadians are diagnosed with MS

Of Denial, Depression and Death

This personal essay was an assignment of mine. The professor asked us to write a personal essay about the grim topic Death. I found the challenge easy to write about, but difficult to publish. The courage it took to write all of this down was difficult to find, but I surprised myself.

I hope you like it as much as my professor did. His review was glowing and sent me to tears. It has been printed and will hang, framed, where it will inspire me on a daily basis.

As a child I saw the world, as most children do, for the beauty of every movement, every smell and each idea. The challenges of youth; caring for my latest digital pet, losing my best “Steely” Marble or choosing whose house to play at, were no stranger to me or any of my young neighbours. However, unlike most of my childhood playmates, the idea of mortality was an ever present idea fixed in the back of my mind, solidly stuck between naptime and lunch.

Mortality was taught to me early in life by two major events:

1-      the peaceful passing of my two greatest idols; my two great-grandmothers

2-      much of my youth spent in and around Hospitals

These circumstances proved to me, while still very young, that life is finite. Life was an intangible idea for most 5 year olds to grasp, but I clung to the idea of a finite life like a dog clings to his favourite toy. Unpredictable, imperceptible and undeniably puzzlingly, I saw the possibility of death everywhere.

Unlike the currently grown version of myself, able to over think everything, as a child I saw death only as a coming end and strived not to regret anything, should the end come. Most of every moment I spent smiling, showing my parents how happy I was and every time I left a room; every single time, I would kiss each of my parents and tell them I loved them. Looking back, I see I was a bit over dramatic.

Like Virginia Woolf, caught in the mesmerizing light of the life and struggles of a moth, I too was able to see the beauty in the smallest bit of life. For 15 years I cared for a tree. My classmates and I were each given a seed of a Fir tree in Kindergarten. I planted that seed, and every day from the moment the seed touched the moist, freshly turned soil in my backyard, I cared for, and loved that tree. Months I cried over the fruitless patch of dirt begging and pleading for my little seed to live.

A light green sprout at first, then a sprig, then at last a bristle of pines. The tree grew with me, like a sibling, though I felt more of a protective maternal kind of role for the tree. I delighted when the tree grew taller than me and fought back tears as I had to trim the scraggly ends of its branches. That tree was better cared for than any pet but despite all of my dedication and hard work, I watched the pines start to discolour and radiate up the trunk of my beloved tree. Despite my daily efforts and a very difficult transplantation I lost my tree in the last year of my high school education, and wept unabashedly at the loss of such a long-time friend.

Once I thought myself an emotional rock, hard, stable, constant but not impervious to damage. If the grief was great enough my sorrow would flow uncontrollably from me. In Consolation to his Wife Plutarch writes that he would have his wife compose herself and act dignified after the loss of their youngest child and daughter.

“[…] a virtuous woman must remain uncorrupted, but in sorrow too she must remember that excess is to be avoided.”

If the pain cuts deep enough, I feel no guilt in showing it. In fact, I find more guilt in the façade of hiding my pain. At the end of my final year of high school, the same year I lost my tree, my body started to fail me.

Throughout my adolescence the surreal feeling that something just wasn’t right, haunted me. I had the perfect life; an amazingly happy and close family, great friends and good grades. After years of being told that life was only true in fairytales, I started to think that something else must be coming. Death’s ever present, ominous existence never left me, and I started to see both Life and Death as partners dancing a duet around me.

While the rest of my friends were busy pinning up curls, wrapping themselves in silk, teetering in heels, contemplating how much makeup to wear to the Prom, I had gone completely blind in my right eye. When my classmates were complaining of hangovers during exams, I was busy trying to hold on to a pencil after losing all of the feeling in my right hand.

That summer, at 16, I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis; a debilitating disease that attacks the nervous system, often causing permanent nerve damage. The realization that you have a very real, very painful disease, would, to any normal person, make them start to consider their own mortality. Contrarily I felt relief in the reassured knowledge of the “finity” of my life. The disease inspired me, and drove me to strive for the best of life, now. Even during my third year of University I was fighting the disease and smiling. I was relearning how to walk after my MS progressed from the waist down. While other students were lounging in the midst of an academic strike, I was pointedly turning my nose up against the notion of ever encroaching Death and surrender.

6 years ago I would have said the famous words “What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger”, currently however, I find myself sympathizing with the late Christopher Hitchens whose reply to the same line was,

Oh, Really?

On February 29^th 2012 I lost one of my grandmothers to Cancer. It was expected, and in the end nearly a relief, but the loss has left me feeling empty and yet, the most afraid of Death growing ever nearer. The tendrils of depression have latched on to me, like an octopus’s suction cup covered tentacles suffocating and immobilizing its’ prey.

A month later, the pain of the loss of my grandmother is no less real than it was a month ago. Plutarch, after learning of his daughter’s death wrote to his wife,

“I cannot see, my dear wife, why these and similar qualities which delighted use when she was alive should now distress and confound us when we bring them to mind.”

As dark as many of the recesses of my mind are at present, I cannot help but connect with what Plutarch has just said, even though it is difficult to separate the great qualities which were admired and the events surrounding the loss of a loved one. My grandmother’s life was long, and happy. She was a proud wife, mother, grandmother and friend- those are not traits to be mourned, but cherished and remembered instead.

“I estimate that it must have been about 1910 that she (Käthe Kollwitz) first took death as her theme, when she was no more than 43 or 4. I stop to think about it now because of my own age, of course.[…]I recall, I did not have such a feeling about death.”

Lu-Hsun reflects on the effects of age on his own sense of mortality. Contrary to the passage above, the next passage from his essay Death sounds like a conversation I have had in my own head, far too many times.

“Since last year, whenever I lay on my wicker chair recovering from illness, I would consider what to do when I was well, what articles to write, what books to translate or publish. […] this sense of urgency, which I never had before, was due to the fact that unconsciously I had remembered my age. But still never directly thought of “death”.

Through all my awareness of death, I have not truly thought of death as an imminent possibility until recently. In the aftermath of my family’s loss, the nearly-tangible possibility and certainty of Death seems closer than ever. The fantasy of my physical health and fairytale life evaporated into the toxic smoke of the haze of depression.

Awareness of my own faults in my genetic makeup that have no cure and no sign of improvement have taken root in my soul. Instead of smiles and fantasies, all I can focus on are the physically painful daily reminders of my slow and continuous decline into fragility and illness.

Although my brain seems poisoned by wisps of depression, I still have the desire to keep death at bay. I wear a helmet while riding a bike, I never run with scissors, and I look both ways before crossing the street; twice. The simple beauty of Virginia’s Woolf’s The Death of the Moth, moved me to tears. I empathized immediately with the struggling creature and found myself desperately wishing that it would somehow manage to live. I miss seeing the world through the innocent eyes of a child; everything is magical and precious, whereas I see everything tainted with War, Pollution, Civil Unrest, Political Scandals and Debt.

Without pain, how would we know what joy feels like? I mourn death, I understand death and I fear death. I have known my share of death, and I will continue to fight through life, for the good, for love, for joy, so that when death comes I will have nothing to regret. I am not ashamed to show my pain and cry for death, whether it is for a dying tree, an animal in a ditch at the side of the road or for the loss of a human life; a family member or a stranger on the evening news.

I want to be like Virginia Woolf’s moth. I would like to live gracefully flitting from pane to pane in the storyboard of my life, struggling through the hard times and illness, only to fly again triumphantly, then to fall again, fight and eventually surrender to the eventuality of death; proud of every part of my life.

A Catalogue of Histories

Today I started a "Catalogue of Personal Histories" for each character in each of my novels.

I have all of the information tucked away in incomprehensibly written scraps of papers scattered around my office, but today I started creating an easy to read reference sheet for each of my characters.

I start with their full name (given) and their nicknames Then I underline their name with a colour coded bar with the series and book title. The Left side of the page is two columns of text about the characters Background: Their personal History, traits, quirks, motivations, relationships, geography etc.. and anything else I find relevant to their character. In the centre of the page is a picture of a live model/ head shot of a person I find to have similar physical traits to the character.On the Right hand of the page is a point form description of their attire and physical characteristics.

The second page has a description of any outstanding characteristics that need more description.
For example: Describing in detail the character's religion or beliefs, their magical abilities, complex relationships or family trees.

*Note: Any character that occurs in more than one novel will have one of these compact reference sheets for each book. They will denote the character's growth, changes in personality and motivations as well as add to any abilities.

These are like Character resumes, that take several hours to complete. I know my characters like I know my family, and yet it still took me an hour and a half (at my fastest) to write out one of these Histories. This morning I completed 3, and am about to complete a 4th. Eventually I would like to have one of these for every character in each of my books, and then several for each world.

My Catalogues of Histories will include;
-Character refs/ bios/ histories
-Country & Province histories and maps
-Religions & Deities
-Royalty & Leadership
-Legends & Myths
-Tales & Stories

for each novel. It's a daunting challenge but will make writing easier, clearer and faster to reference. I will take it character by character, book by book, eventually creating enough information to fill several binders.

If you would like to try to make you own I am currently using a template in Microsoft Word Starter 2010 called "Apothecary Newsletter" it is the perfect template for the information I want to display easily. 

If you use this trick, I hope it helps. I already love it!

-Brandolyn

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TDotRQ-37,276

Reading and Writing

Over the years I have read quote upon quote from famous writers saying in various ways: Reading is just as important as writing.

It is not until recently that I have realised how true that statement is.
Reading other people's work does a lot for your own creative process; at least, it does for mine.
Reading keeps my mind working, even though it allows me to put down my own stories and get wrapped up in someone else's.

Through immersion in a good book I get to feel the sense of wonder and excitement that I want readers of my work to feel. It is inspiring to read other works and strive toward them, but it can be a challenge to keep writing, when I know I have some very big footprints to follow. Sometimes afraid of falling into the cavernous tread before me, I have come up with ways to keep myself motivated; even after reading any of the many Everests of the book world.

As an aspiring author I know I have to keep writing, and I have a few tricks in my repertoire to keep me doing so, even when I feel uninspired or incredibly intimidated. If you ever find yourself in a similar situation I suggest trying this technique, or any variation of it that you can come up with- bottom line- write.

If you enjoy writing, even just a little, and if you are currently reading a book that has drawn you in already, or perhaps you are still waiting for that pull in the middle of your stomach, either way, if you have a book, stop and try to write a scene from the next chapter.
It is incredibly difficult to create a story from scratch, but with firm knowledge or even a basic grasp of the direction a story is going, or an idea of the characters, you should be able to write a fairly compelling scene.
The scene you choose does not necessarily have to happen in the story, but it should follow the characters and rules of the world outlined by the author thus far. Some sort of action must occur in this scene, even if it is as basic as going out to fetch a pail of water, or feeding chickens.
This challenge is purely imaginative, how far can you push your imagination with someone else's characters and world, without tossing the pre-described rules out the proverbial window?

If you do not want to encounter the possibility of "ruining" upcoming story lines, then pick a chapter or scene you have already read, something that you found unsatisfying. First identify why it was unsatisfying to you (make note of the reason, so you do not repeat the problem yourself) then rewrite the scene to your specifications.

You can do this challenge with a movie; rewrite a scene, or exchange between characters.

If you want to make the challenge of writing a scene more difficult, then try to emulate the original author's style of writing. In the past I have found this to be extremely challenging, however, what I learn from it makes it worth the time.

I know writers who are less intrigued by novel writing than they are about blogging, or journalism. For those of you who fall into this category you might consider writing a review of a book, chapter,  character, whichever you find most suited to your needs and interests.
I have one friend who has been writing summaries of chapters as he reads a long series of novels.
Summaries, reviews, blogs or fake articles about "current events" within a fictional world are all wonderful ways to keep you writing and improving your skills.

**Please note** All of this goes for the real world as well. If you enjoy writing blogs- then write blogs. If you like writing articles- then write articles about actual current events that appeal to you.

Keep on writing.

Although there are many days that pass without me writing a blog post, there are very few days in the year where I am not seated at my computer with cats on my lap, on in a chair with a pen and paper trying desperately to translate all the scenes I see in my head, into words on paper.
I write all the time. I write even when I have nothing to write on.
When I am unable to fall asleep I write myself dreams to drift into.
Sitting in a coffee shop, I write backgrounds for the caffeine enthusiasts surrounding me.

Although my writing is not always of great calibre, I learn every time I write, even if it is simply to stop spelling "in front" as "infront" (seriously... I do it ALL the time.)

Coaches tell their teams that practice makes perfect, and then you get to practice playing a sport. English teachers say to write all the time, so they give us homework. Well if you were like me, you liked to go out an play, rather than do homework. If my teachers had presented me with various ways to keep writing, with ways to "play" with the craft, I think I would have been a much better student.

Keep sharpening your pencils!

-Brandolyn

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Finity Project

http://thefinityproject.com//index.php

The Finity Project is a fund raising tour to 8 different countries to raise money for 8 different charities.
1-MS Society of Canada
2-Help fill a Dream Foundation- for children with life-threatening illnesses
3-Cystic Fibrosis Trust
4-Juvenile Diabetes Research Fund of Canada
5-Michael J Fox Foundation for Parkinson's Research
6-Heart and Stroke Foundation
7-Brain Tumour Foundation of Canada
8- To be determined by viewers

The girls running the project both have Multiple-Sclerosis, and have been struggling with the challenges the disease brings for years, but they have not let MS get in the way of their life goals.

On their info page they say "Finity is the acute awareness of one’s own finite existence." They know that life is finite, and they are making the best of it, fighting forward and working to help others.

Please check out their website, and if you can please support them. Donate, view their videos, whatever you can, share the link even, and get the word out there about these wonderful girls and the lengths they are going to, in order to raise money for 8 wonderful causes.

Thank you.

-Brandolyn

For Creative Gamers

A personal friend of mine, DM, has started a new blog dedicated to design, re-design and application of tweaks in the widely known game Dungeons and Dragons.
He will be focusing on game play in the 4th edition of the game primarily, and his post will likely be looking at the game from a Dungeon Master's point of view.

I am fortunate enough to have been added to the list of contributors as a guest writer. I have played D&D for a few years now and thoroughly enjoy the dynamics of the game, but I have never played as a Dungeon Master, so my contributions to the blog will be mostly player based. I will look at previous posts and analyse how I think the rules will affect players. I am also hoping to write some posts about player interactions, game role play and recent encounters I have played and successful tactics that were used to make the experience extremely enjoyable.

If you are interested, please check out this blog.

dd4sign.blogspot.com

I will update here when I have written a contribution, but please check it more frequently than that. The author is very talented and brings a lot of insight into the game and will be very interesting to anyone who has every played the game.

-Brandolyn

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Heaven has Gained a New Angel

I am deeply saddened to say that this morning a beautiful life left the world and was taken up to heaven.

The one and only Mrs. MW, lost her battle with cancer this morning. She was a fighter and fought the disease with every fiber of her being for much longer than I can imagine.

Although we were not related by blood, I considered, and will always consider her one of my grandmothers. She had an uncanny ability to change the temperature of a room, just by walking into it. Her smile was always bright and her laugh was utterly infectious. I will honestly miss it.

MW was a woman that I consider to be true, genuine and real. She was herself, and there was no pretending about it. She was a passionate woman who loved her husband, three children, children in law, grandchildren and even "pseudo" family members, like myself, completely. She would have done anything for them.

She was a wonderful cook, a classy hostess and a brilliant mind.

Never during her battle with cancer did I see her stop thinking of others. She still cared for everyone around her;
Even during rough patches, and after chemo, she would show her support for her family.

I will be eternally grateful for everything she did for me, all the bright words of wisdom she passed on, and every moment we were able to share.

Right now, as my hands slip over my tear filled keyboard, I can only imagine how her loss is being felt by those who knew her better than I.
To her family, and friends I say,
We will miss her always, she was eternally bright and kind, and that sort of warmth never leaves us. Although her spirit has left this world, her laughter will stay with us.

Mary, I love you. You are terribly missed.

Heaven has gained a beautiful Angel.

-Brandolyn

How I Start Writing a Novel

I have been told for as long I can can remember, by teachers, co-workers, friends and family that my writing style is backwards. I cannot wait until I publish a book, so that I can prove to my elementary teachers, that my style for creating stories actually works.

I am not outlining my creative process as an instructive tool, this style will likely only work for me, and a select few others whos' brains are wired differently than the rest of society's, instead I am illustrating my creative process as an insight to how I work, to illustrate the differences and similarities between everyone's individual road to creating a piece of art.

Whenever I sit down to write, the first thing I do is not to come up with a moral, or challenge, or even a character. Instead I turn to my music, and hit shuffle.
My music is purely instrumental, primarily comprised of movies scores, and I close my eyes and wait for a title to reveal itself to me.

Most people find the title the hardest part of writing a story and save it for last. I need it to be the first stepping stone. After I have an attention grabbing title, everything else starts to fit into place.

 Generic characters come next. First I decide if my main character will be female, or male, then I decide how many secondary characters I want. Creating characters is tedious work, so I start with the basics; name, age, height, defining characteristics (physical and mental). Every one of my characters, even minor ones, are unique. From there I will go on to sketch each character.

I have two characters that I have recently noticed have a few similarities in their character designs; both exotic females in their own worlds, both with black hair, who wield a bow and arrow, but that's as far as the similarities go. Their body type, their apparel, unique abilities, religious beliefs, up bringing, allies, enemies, negative attributes, to name a few are completely different, as are the journeys they are on.
 After creating so many characters, I realise I am bound to repeat a few physical attributes, like hair colour. 

After the characters are roughed out, and sometimes during the process, I create the world they come from. Creating a world demands races, religions, counties, provinces, continents, a governing structure, jobs, some sort of struggling force; whether it is a race, a class, two provinces, or a group. The map of the world must be completed with forests, bodies of water, mountain ranges and other types of terrain.
    During this part of my process I have usually come up with a general idea of the sort of story I want my characters to tell, whether it is an adventure and all I need to do is connect the dots across my map, or if I will have a certain plot point that will ask the reader to consider a certain question or moral standing.

Then it's off to the Library for Research!
I look into the clothing, housing, ornamentation, architecture, and geography that I want to portray in the story. I take notes, redraw items, and copy pages to keep for reference.


**Please note: Everything I draw, write, research, or reference stays both as a hard copy and a soft copy, for easy reference. **
My "Novel Binder" has all of the information that pertains to the story;
Character sketches
Life Models
Actors and look-a-likes
Maps
Geographic drawings
Architectural references
Races
Jobs
Names
Places
Costume renderings
Creatures

and the story itself


One of my current novels, TToA has an entire section dedicated to the various steeds and mounts each of the characters ride, complete with breeds, colour guide and accessories.


After the research I simply put a pen to paper and see where it takes me.


I prefer to write on paper for a few very simple reasons:
1- I have horrible hand writing and I want it to improve
2- I like the feel of a ballpoint pen as it rolls across a piece of paper
3- I like the smell of paper

Eventually when I have a significant chunk of story to input into the computer, I tend to gravitate to writing on the computer simply for the convenience of not having to write it twice. I find it important to start off writing on paper, as it gets me invested in the work. Pen and paper seems to hold my attention far better than my computer with it's distracting windows and easy access to Internet distractions. I am very sorry to say that I have lost many a good writing hour to the simple distractions of websites like YouTube and Texts From Last Night.

Once I have started writing the story and know a very general idea of where the story is going I will revisit my characters and develop them by writing short stories about their history. Generally these short stories are never referenced but they help me understand the characters' complexities and decisions making process.

Many of my characters are based on people I know, or at least have some of the characteristics of real people, whether the characters are good or bad is not defined by the person from whom I have borrowed likeness'. Rarely is anyone ever able to identify the character I have based on them, with the exception of the character I named after my sister.

The story outline often reveals certain challenges and moral outcomes that the novel will present and surround. These I try to highlight and refer to often. These must be re-occurring themes, and will resurface periodically. <-- This is really the only part I need to remind myself to write about.

From there I just follow my fingers. I let my brain take control, zone out for a bit, and read what I have produced afterwards.

It's difficult to explain but my stories just flow from me, like the river being fed by the ocean. On occasion I have sat down and asked for logistical assistance with an issue or particularily difficult manuever performed in the story that I need help visualizing, but otherwise, my fingers seem to know what I am trying to say before my brain realizes it. I think that is why I have a hard time focussign on one novel, because once you open the floodgates to the ocean, you cannot control what water gets in.

This is not the style I reccomend for anyone. I rarely use an outline, something most writers highly suggest (maybe one day I will too) but for now I will literally go with the flow.


-Brandolyn


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Writer's Block

Most people know the definition of Writer's Block.
For the masses, Writer's Block is conceived as two ideas;
The general public visualises a mental barricade, which separates ideas from the brain, resulting in a lack of creativity.
My more "creatively inclined" friends, will visualise the Gamecube (from ReBoot) coming down  and physically separating them from the tangible world, in which their writing utensils reside, preventing them from putting words on a paper.

For myself, Writer's Block is an entirely different matter. I very rarely have a drought of imagination, instead, my sessions of Writer's Block happen when my creativity is at its highest. I see Writer's Block as a sort of Sensory Overload where I have too many ideas to write down, and not enough time, or patience to sort through them.

I have several novels that I am working on at the moment for exactly that reason. Every time I put one story aside to focus on another, I get more ideas for new stories and ways to improve old ones. It is incredibly difficult to make significant leaps toward the completion of a manuscript when I am constantly working in short bursts. I have several partially completed works, and none that are finished and ready to send off to an editor.

I am constantly flipping from story to story, it's a wonder I can keep them straight in my head.
However, I get a lot of joy in re-reading old stories, or ones I haven't visited in a while. I have even been known to surprise myself!
Believe it or not, I have actually been reading my own work and wondered "How did I get them out of this mess?" Historically speaking, I have been very impressed with the outcome. I like being surprised in everything I read, and I get a twisted sense of pleasure from surprising myself. This may come from the many versions of my stories. Every chapter has been re-written hundreds of times, each with a different sequence of events and outcome, or it could be caused by my spotty memory, honestly I cannot remember.

At present I am working on a few other blog posts- I had to get this one out of the way first. I'm desperately hoping that this will help me focus my creativity.
I am also working on two of my novels: G and TToA (although I pick up DotRQ and TB quite frequently), as well as a short story about the effects of MS on Mental Health, a few more of my pen pal letters (I have written many copies, and Ladies and Gents, I may just send you several different letters and let you pick one to reply to, I cannot pick a favourite). I also have the beginning ideas for a graphic novel, which would surround some of my first novel's main characters in small "novellas" that never appear in the actual novel, but are very exciting and although not necessary for the character's development, the stories are nice to know.

As I write this I realize it has had the opposite effect I had desired, and has made me more susceptible to ideas. My next blog, which will likely be uploaded within the next few hours, will detail my unique writing style. How I write, create, sort my ideas into stories, and how I build up characters.

-Brandolyn

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TDotRQ-37,276