What am I DOING?!?

I will not quit.

I will not quit.

I will not quit.

Never mind that my life is hell. Never mind that I just started a new job. Never mind that I'm likely to go even further out of my mind.

This is tradition. This is what I do in November. There is no November without NaNo.

But.

Did I mention my life is hell? My life is hell. A big, roiling, boiling pot of hell on wheels. Fiery, burning waves of scalding hell in a soup tureen.

Great galloping goblins, my life SUCKS. It SUCKS. I cannot overstate how much my life totally and completely SUCKS.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH.

<\whine>

Disciplers

I have to admit, I skim my blog subscriptions more than I read them these days. This is why it is beneficial to have short paragraphs, small words, and plenty of pictures on your blog, because that's what it usually takes to get my attention. Dan Edelen's post got my attention with a pretty picture, but reading it has gotten me thinking. And wishing.

Dan is apparently lucky enough to have had bad experiences with "disciplers". Myself, my experience with "disciplers" ended around the time I entered middle school. He describes the ways discipling relationships can go wrong; I wish I could experience some of them.

Who am I learning the faith from?

I have to ask myself, again and again: where can I find real spiritual food?

The more I learn, the more I am learning that I am just beginning to understand the basics of the gospel. What I was taught for years about the Christian faith was hardly gospel at all. But now that I have tasted the real thing, I'm desperate to find someone who can feed me more of it.

But who? Where? Where is the godly person who can take time to teach? Where is the one who teaches with authority? My mentors in the faith are people with blogs and podcasts, people I may never meet face-to-face. The Bible is impenetrable to me without someone whom I can ask for help and guidance. But it seems to me that those who teach don't know, and those who know don't teach, so where is the one who will show me how to follow Jesus?

Somebody please catechize me.

Wake-up calls

My phone has started doing something interesting. At approximately six o'clock every morning, Monday through Friday, I get a call. When I answer, a robotic voice says,

Hello! I'm calling for a substitute.

Now, this is not totally unexpected. I've been hoping to get calls like this. That's what I was aiming for when I applied to be a substitute teacher. But there's just one problem: I can't accept the jobs yet. To accept a job, I need a PIN, so that the system knows it's really me- but the sub subcontractor (hahaha) has not sent me those precious digits.

It's like getting woken up every morning by a maid in a frilly apron with a tray of strong coffee and Cocoa Puffs who stands in the doorway, laughs, and leaves.

So I'm spending my days reading, replaying old Doctor Who episodes in my head, tangling up large quantities of yarn, and wondering how I will ever last in a classroom full of restless natives exuberant children. Mostly I imagine all the ways this new job, if it ever materializes, could go very, very badly. When I get stuck in that mode of thought too long, I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and think of November, because November proves I can do anything. Twice.

What? You don't remember what November is? You must need some coffee. (I always need extra caffeine in November.)

We're less than two weeks away from National Novel Writing Month, and I'm starting to get excited.

Well, excited and nervous.

Well, okay, mainly nervous.

It may seem like a minor thing, in light of the chaos the rest of my life is in, but my muse seems to have gone on vacation. He checks in every once in a while, sends me postcards with pictures of beaches and a hint of a plot idea scrawled illegibly on the back, but basically he and my Inner Editor have gotten married and are off on an extended honeymoon trip. There are flashes of inspiration, sure, but they're lightning bolts, and I would settle for a nice, steady night light. The plot I was thrilled about at midnight has faded by the time I wake up at noon. Characters are figures so shadowy I can't see the whites of their 70's disco wear, let alone their eyes.

Last year I started planning in July. I am starting to panic.

I know other NaNo writers have been in this same position many times- some of them late in November. And I know others have wise advice on how to reach the 50,000 word mark. I just fear I'm going to end up with a month's worth of confused and verbose dreck. Particularly, I dread having to take up a strategy like that of one "Indie", whose forum topic is titled "This Year, I Shall Mostly Be Padding My Word Count With Pornography".

No, this year I want to write a serious novel. Not characters being chased by agents of death and stopping to play mini-golf. Not misfit alien voyagers who make chicken soup and teleport onto football fields. I want to write a Real, Proper Novel. One that doesn't involve randomly placed animals or long discourses on cheap food.

I need a panic button.



Ahh, that's better.

Cheque-ing in

Is it August again? I swear it's August again. It's hot outside, my life is thoroughly boring, and I'm hunting for a job again. Does this sound familiar?

It's hard to say how I feel right now. I feel like I've been stuck in the same place for months. On the edge of going broke, with painfully unoccupied days and a thousand desperate plans to get some quick cash. I always thought people who took vows of poverty were noble and brave, but right now I think they might just be crazy.

I'm making a crazy move right now; I'm going to apply to be a substitute teacher. It would be a good position in so many ways- it would get me some teaching experience and give me summers off to to SIL training. Brilliant, no? Here's the catch- it will take nearly all the money I have to pay for the training to be certified.

It's terrifying. But I have to try for something. I just hope whoever cooks for Bible study in the next few weeks cooks lots, so that I won't have to go buy lots of groceries before I have a paycheck.

Of course, if anyone would like to buy, say, a pair of hand-knit socks or mittens, or a crocheted quilt, that person could help ease my worries... ;)