You know those guys,
You’ll know the ones I mean.
Blonde hair, blue eyes, broad shoulders.
Football players, baseball players, wrestling.
The whole shebang.
The ones that stand tall in the hallways
But they’re quiet.
And they’re uncertain.
Their friends are loud.
They laugh hesitantly, cracked smiles.
I don’t know when it was that your eyes drew to me
As if you pleaded for me to crack open that hard exterior.
Or maybe you were longing for something that I had.
Sometimes I remember those eyes
I don’t think you ever wanted anything from me
I don’t think you were interested in me.
I think you were interested in what I had.
Maybe you secretly watched Japanese cartoons.
You’d never be able to tell another soul.
Maybe you played video games
Talked loudly and laughed with people across the world
In that way you’d never laugh with
those broad shoulders
And tall hallway walks.
Those eyes pleaded with me to find your secret.
Or that’s what I like to tell myself
when I remember
The way you looked across the room
The loudness in your gaze.
“Set me free.”
I wonder where you are now
I wonder if you grew up well.
You never mixed with me,
I don’t even remember your name.
We weren’t friends.
We weren’t crushes.
We were people.
Sometimes I think I see you
Walking across campus
I wonder if you ever cracked
I wonder if it ever set you free.
So, took a look at The Book for the… well, maybe second time this summer outside of figuring out backstories and worldbuilding. (Check out some of that here.) And yknow what I figured?
Well… I’ve mentioned in previous posts that there were specific bridges I knew I’d struggle with crossing, but I’d handle those when I got there. In another post, I may have even mentioned that I’d met that bridge, and decided to edit around it for the time being.
I need to rewrite it. Entirely. From the ground up.
There’s no other way to thoughtfully progress the story past the bridge, because the bridge is literally blown to pieces before you even cross it.
But I’m starting from the beginning. I’m tearing down walls and rebuilding them. I realize that this is NOT the first time I’ve done this, and with just about 60,000 words (48k of the book currently and the rest in backstory which I can drag in), I have a LOT of material to work with. I guess that’s the head’s side of the coin. The tail’s side is that just about 60,000 words is a lot of stuff to rummage through and pull out the best of.
So, excuse me as I print out 30 double sided pages at a time and sit on my living room floor with scissors and glue sticks as I paste parts here and there into a notebook.
I get it, such a waste of paper, Poppy!! How could you!? I know, I know, it kills me a little too. But the loading times into some of these documents… is brutal. And sometimes I need to see things side to side and NOT on a screen. It makes my brain light up in prettier ways.
So, when I mentioned there might be more sneak peeks/back stories (like this.) from The Book, I’m afraid I’ll need to post-pone a lot of that posting (ahaha. Pun totally intended) until I have a more solid visualization of what is real and what is.. well.. fiction, as far as the end-product goes.
If I sat down and did this, and worked through it with a criminal, superpower level focus, I could probably rack together these strings and pull the book out in maybe a few days. That’s how much content is staying, as far as I know currently. And likely, it would be much longer than it sits. Dude, I have skills. And plans. Except I only wish I had that superhuman focus. Somebody get me some Adderall. And prayers. Lots of prayers. And patience. Oodles of patience.
Anyways, if you want to see more of what I’m up to, please check out our new facebook page! 🙂
As always, with love and smiley faces,
To those of you who don’t know much about me–which, let’s be honest, is probably most or all of you–I’m a pharmacy technican. A CPhT, if we’re getting fancy.
I love my job.
And not in the way that my coworker says it everyday, “IlovemyjobIlovemyjobIlovemyjobIlovemyjob.” She says it to be funny, but sometimes you kind of mean it. Sometimes you fill over five-hundred prescriptions in a usually slow-er retail pharmacy and stand at the register all day with a line and the drive-thru pinging over and over and over…
I’m not saying this in a self-convincing mantra that will somehow make my job any better. I’m not even saying it to be funny, because “Ha-ha, Poppy. Who really can whole-heartedly say they actually love their daily grind?”
… I didn’t think I would.
To be honest, I was working a dream-job under a local, professional photographer in my small hometown. But you know how small businesses go these days… They were running low on work hours and money, and I got the shaft.
To be fair, I wasn’t the best employee. I tend to let my ego get in the way of work when I get used to a certain routine. Not to say I was bad, I just… wasn’t hard-working. I started making mistakes that cost the company money… and even a few dollars here and there really amount to big sums over time.
So, I was a high-schooler who was bum out of a job. At this point in time, I was a senior in high school and I had no idea what to do with myself. I was pretty sure I was gonna go to school to do some research biology, do neuropsychology, or become a librarian. I’m a broad-spectrum kind of person.
The last thing I wanted to do was to return to the grocery store where I bagged two years before in my crummy-part-time-courtesy-clerk position. No fun. But, I needed a job.
That’s for another discussion, but I’ve always been a seriously independent person. Despite my parent’s (love you, single-Dad. You rock.) insisting that it was seriously okay, I was just in high school–not like I had to pay any bills or anything–I’ve just never been the person who could not work, when perfectly able to. Besides, college.
So, when I was “grabbed up” by an old friend who worked in the pharmacy, I thought I would hate it.
Boy was I wrong.
You know those things that you never try until the last moment and you find that you have a crazy passion for? Yeah. It was one of those.
My state is one of the worst for opioid overdose. Even before Prince died, we’ve had a serious problem. So, even just before Prince died and we got a state-wide standing order to prescribe Naloxone, I was on-board fully on wanting to be that pharmacist that won’t take a prescription from a doctor (even if they scream and threaten my career and fluff their chest feathers about being a more adequate medical professional) when I know it will literally kill the patient (… sad, but true story.)
So, I love my job. There is literally nothing more satisfying than fixing a prescription, solving a tough insurance problem, and learning so many new things on a daily basis. There is no better rush for me.
Sure, it has its ups and downs. Customers/Patients that will never be happy, for instance. Doctors, Nurses, and even patients that talk down to you like you haven’t worked in pharmacy for years… (doesn’t matter if you work there for 3 years or 50, let’s be honest…)
But it’s one of my favorite things, honestly. I love helping people. I love making people smile. I love solving problems. I love learning. I love horrible puns and dumb dad jokes. Perfect setting for all of those things.
So… Let’s talk about a.) my passion and b.) what’s frustrating right now.
So, I’ve been meaning to talk to you guys for awhile now about inspiration and my muses. I’ve created and (accidentally) destroyed two or three different drafts of discussions and I’m deciding I should just combine them.
So… Let’s talk about my muse, shall we?
My Writing Muse
My writing muse is literally my OC. He’s a fiery (literally… and, of course, stereotypically…) and brooding individual that really (ahaha) fires up my world… Which makes me seem a little crazy but bear with me.
So I’ve been writing The Book since middle school. Long before Celldweller dyed his hair red and published his album, End of an Empire. But let’s be fair… he looks like Merrikh. sans hair flip. sans… well… actually… he’s pretty close to how I’ve always envisioned Merrikh. Merrikh just has more tanned skin… and fancy ears. Cuz… he’s an alien.
He’s the first-mate of the spaceship–but really in name only. He’s just best buddies with the captain and actually manages the “boiler” room of the ship. (more…)
There are a lot of times I do things that I wish you didn’t see; because they’re not things you’re supposed to do.
So I’m going to lay it out for you as well as I can so when you’re older you’ll read this and say, “Huh. Guess she really did think of us all the time like she said she did.”
Yeah. I do think of you. All. The. Time.
Once you find your passions, stick to them. You’ll have more than one, usually, or you’ll have one thing that you’re absolutely obsessed with. Stick with it. Whether it’s you have a love for medicine, film, flying airplanes, science, caring for animals. Whether you’ll love archery or fencing. The world is your oyster, girls. We live in a magnificent time where “woman power” is a real thing. Take advantage of the opportunities that will be open to you that weren’t available to me at your age. (more…)
About Fanfiction. About society. About socially acceptable things.
You know, the things I tend not to do, not for lack of trying…
But let’s break this down a little bit: Not just any sort of fanfiction.
See, I need your opinion on something. And maybe this will spur more posts and more writings, so I need you to respond to me honestly.
Granted, I may not even take your sage advice and do whatever I want anyways… I’m a rebel like that. Besides. This is my blog and I’ll do what I want to.