Written by Ryebrynn at 7:45 A.M. GMT through 8:18 A.M. GMT
I’m just going to start off and say I’m mad at my cat right now, because I need decent length blog post.
Eh. ‘Kay… ‘Bout now y’all are probably wondering I’m I’m mad at my cat.
The reason is simple enough. She just kept me awake all night by jumping on my bed, just to get to my window. Thing is, I feel it whenever she jumps on my bed.
So it keeps me awake.
Either that or it was the ideas bursting within me for my tragedy.
Or the book I’m reading.
Whatever the reason, I couldn’t sleep, so I somehow pulled an all-nighter.
As a night owl, all-nighters come quite natural to me and–there’s the cat again–I enjoy them. They give me a chance to think–which is a chance I rarely get during the day.
And, hey, I might be writing, too.
I suppose y’all don’t want to hear all about it. I did plan to post sometime about how to stay awake during an all-nighter, but, then again, it comes naturally to me, so I don’t even need caffeine or anything.
And yes, these all-nighters are the cause of my crazily reset sleep schedule, which I really need ro re-reset sometime, if you get my meaning.
I don’t know how I would be without all-nighters. The night is so silent and peaceful, and dark her, with plenty of scope for the imagination. It’s so lovely I find it hard to spend the whole night sleeping, when I could be enjoying the silence and thoughts that night brings on. There really seems like no troubles at night, or maybe it’s because I bury my troubles beneath thoughts, projects, and books.The night seems like a rare time. All is well, and then the next day dawns, fresh, with no mistakes in it yet. It’s a beautiful process. And, being a night owl, I suppose I’m biased. But I do truly love the serenity of the night, albeit dark, and the time it gives me to think uninterrupted.
I’m always thinking about how I never post, but I assure you, the lack of posts is purely laziness and books on my side. I’ve been working at writing more of what I enjoy writing, and I’ve come to realize my stories, and their author, like a good dose of romance. Not too thick, but good, in it’s own way. People sometimes complain about romances, but I have come to terms with the paticular thread of romance. Romance is something that happens in real life, and I fear stories would not ring true if there was no romance at all. And there is such a thing as too much romance as well. If there is too much, it drowns the reader, and when the capacity rises, the romance becomes false, and then the stories aren’t realistic any more.
Okay, you’re probably wondering what brought that last paragraph on. I’ve always viewed blogs as a way of giving voice to thoughts, like a public journal. Thoughts don’t always run on one subject. They skip around, they think erratically. So that’s why my blog posts seem so disjointed sometimes. They are(I hope) unabridged thoughts.
Even with y’all, I sometimes wonder, when I get really discouraged–Why would what I say ever matter? It’s a big world, after all. So many others who would somehow deserve any attention my words ever bring more than me. So then I question my purpose as a writer–why do I write. For the publicity? For the money? For enjoyment? For God?
I’ve come to realize. I write because I couldn’t live without writing(‘kay, maaaaaybe an exaggeration. But I would be pretty miserable). I wrote because words influence people, and we’re here to spread the Word. I write because I’m a reader, and books have bended me backwards(well, my emotions) time and time again, and they make me sob, they make me laugh, they make me want to throw them. But I love them. And I hate them. And I want people to feel that way about my books someday. I wanr to make someone cry, make someone laugh, make someone want to throw my book across the room. But they don’t. Because they love my book. And because they hate my book. It’s a complicated emotion.
And now you’re probably wondering: Why on earth is this blog post so long? Usually they’re short! What on earth is wrong.
😛 Even if that isn’t what any of you are wondering, here’s my answer. Nothing is wrong. I’m just awake, lying in my… hard bed, and thinking: Hey, maybe I should let my blog readers know I’m still alive! Yes, I’m alive. And while I’m recording these thoughts, I want to thank one of you…
Moira. Okay, so I maybe haven’t spoken with Moira in nearly four months, back in November, during NaNo, soon after some new missionaries arrived and I discovered the girl my age with them didn’t like to read, or anything I liked to do, really, she sent me an email. I’d posted on Google+ and the Underground a prayer request about my loneliness, and she decided I needed some encouragement. I may or may not have sobbed all over the keybkard with my family giving me weird looks. But Moira, you did make a good point.
“Friends will rise up. Have hope, dearest one, there are times like these in all of our lives. I’m muddlin’ through me own at present, it’s not so lovely. BUT, it’s kinda like writin’ a novel… halfway through you might be like, “Goodness, this is just not working out! I don’t think I’ll ever be able to write again! My life is so horrible! I’m the only one who can’t write! NOOOOOOOOOO….” but you’ve been through novels, and you’ve won the victory with flying colors 🙂 Truly, God has great plans for you. And I’m pretty sure He’ll provide awesome friends in time who will drag you over the finish line… kicking and screaming. Hang in there. They’ll come.”
You’ve been an exceptional friend, Moira, and I’ll never be able to repay for that one email. It hit me so hard–in a good way!–and I desperately needed it.
And I really hope you don’t mind I quoted a whole paragraph from your email. Love you, Moira. Mallows!
And I suppose this whole post has been for me to funnel my thoughts, an outlet I desperately need. It does get hard, and sometimes I just need to ramble.
It’s a wonder y’all are still my friends. 😛 *winks* You guys are awesome too. And thanks. Y’all have been here for me, and you never hesitate to read my posts and drop a friendly comment.
Thanks for merely being here for me.
P.S. Two years after being a blogger and a writer and an Undergrounder(technically three years for the Undeground) and I still think I’m dreaming.
P.P.S. And I’m going to have to elaborate about the tragedy sometime aren’t I? Y’know, before y’all go crazy with suspense. *winks* Coming up soon. I did write half a blog post about it, but then I accidentally deleted it. Pureply accidental, I promise. I’ll come up with another one sometime.