Books – Books – Books!

I’m giddy with excitement over the ever growing to-be-read pile of books on my desk. Last weekend I received the first 3 Dexter books (“Darkly Dreaming Dexter”, “Dexter in the Dark”, and “Dearly Devoted Dexter” by Jeff Lindsay) from my Mother-in-law to be and my mother gave me “The Last Song” by Nicholas Sparks yesterday as an early b-day present since she usually takes me clothes shopping on my b-day (one of the 2 times a year I get new clothes), but I’ve opted to wait until I lose a little more weight. Then today a package arrived from Amazon and since I was here Heath just let me open it early. He got me “Beautiful Creatures” by Kami Garcia & Margaret Stohl and “Lament: The Faerie Queen’s Deception” by Maggie Stiefvater.

I’m sitting here staring at the beautiful stack they’ve created and feeling excited about how much my library has grown over the last year. And as much as I love Dexter I’m feeling an urge to pick up a different one instead now that I have so many to choose from. I won’t though; I will finish the 3 Dexter books and then move on.

I do hate one thing about these 6 new books though. 5 of the 6 are paperback. Some books just don’t come in another option. I hate bending the spines and seeing the silky covers develop white creases in them. I’m always ridiculously careful when I’m reading a paperback, barely even opening it far enough to see the full page to try and keep the exterior like new. I don’t know why I’m so anal about it, most people consider a worn spine and cover “loved”, but there’s just something about the crispness of a new book that pleases me. It’s probably one of those clean-orderly OCD mannerisms. I’m like this with the color white too. I love white stuff because it feels clean and pure, but the second it’s not popping white, it’s lost my interest. I know that’s stupid, but it’s just a truth of me.

Well back to Dexter now, I just had to gloat a little about all of the great stories I have to read this week. I wonder how many I can actually finish in a week!

Peace – Sarah


And just like that, it clicks

Started reading Dexter last night and got to read a little more during my lunch break today. Wow what an intro. In fact it was far better in the book than it was depicted on the TV show, but I never feel like books are done enough justice when being brought to TV or film anyway so maybe I’m biased.

I also reached for a Joyce Meyer devotional again last night and wouldn’t you know the message was for me – targeting what was wrong in my mind. I can’t express the relief I feel in my chest when God speaks to me this way. It’s unbelievably comforting and a huge burst of strength to dust myself off and try again.

Overnight the healing process began and today I woke up with a different sense of me. I’m a little weary of all of these changes coming my way, but I know they’re necessary and the only way to succeed at even the smallest things in life is to work hard at it. And so I will.

I’m hoping to make the best of my 3 day Easter weekend. I fully intend on finishing all 3 Dexter books during this time (they’re pretty short) and Mom bought me “The Last Song” by Nicholas Sparks today so hopefully I can start that too. I’m completely submerging myself into books for the next week and letting all of those words, words that inspire me, heal my mind – then I’ll start anew.

Peace – Sarah


– There is always sun, if you just let it shine on you –


The dark corners of me…

Something inside of me is dying, crying, reaching for something – anything to pull me out of this. I feel empty, baseless, like a wasted shell. And no matter how much I know I need to get myself away from this mentality, I just can’t seem to escape it. I feel like I’ve walked back into a forbidden territory, one where I don’t belong, one where I die if I enter again.


The above was written this morning at work, where I can not log into livejournal. Obviously my mood yesterday had only grown worse and it wasn’t the rain or my writing bothering me, it was just me. I was a bit over dramatic about it this morning though, which I guess was a nice wake up call.

Musically today – the song below was the first thing that came to mind when I woke up. I haven’t listened to this song or genre of music for a while now. It was part of my past, when I wasn’t right in the head. I listened to my 40+ albums worth of Psychopathic Records music all day after this one – although I’m not sure if it was such a good idea. I thought some songs like “Serial Killa” and “Gimme that Blood” would be good mood setting songs for reading Dexter, but there are too many songs like the one below or the death letter style of “I’m Alright” and I think it may have only made my dismal perception of myself worse.

Twiztid – Wrong with Me (There’s no real video, just the song, but they’ve also provided the lyrics)

Anyway, I’m a little numb now which is actually good (I think). Finally capable of ending my own pity party, I’ve been trying to give deeper thought into what exactly is making me feel this way because I MUST get out of this. I will not accept regression. So the following seem to be the things that are most prominent in my mind (they are in no particular order).

1. I Hate Change – There’s a lot of change either going on around me or that needs to be happening, but I live by routine – I don’t like to vary from the pattern.

2. OCD is no longer my Friend – OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder) has always worked for me even though it’s terrible for some people. It made me overly organized and neat. It set high expectations for myself and compelled me to meet them. It may have made me bitchy at times, but overall having it was a good thing for me. Now I’m not so sure. Those organized tendencies escape me now and it makes me waste time doing things like reading and re-reading and re-re-reading, etc… every little thing I write. I’m positive this is playing a huge role in why it’s taking me so long.

3. Schedules – I need to schedule time to write, time to work out, time to read, time to work on my websites (which I’ve completely neglected), time to sleep longer than 5 hours a night – I need to set a schedule and stick to it. Go back to the ways of living by a planner and get myself organized again.

Other things like getting older and my weight loss are also gnawing at my mind, but I know they’re irrational worries. I’m really not that old and I’ve got to stop thinking like my life is going to be over in 2 years or something. And I’m already working on the weight thing and the revised schedule should make it go faster.

So in conclusion I’m not better, but I know I will be. I’m done egging on the negativity. I’ve decided to face the changes and get over myself already. This is ridiculous at this point. I don’t wallow like this, not anymore at least.

Shoving my face into some books for a little bit to clear out all the ugly, to paint me a pretty picture (or maybe not so pretty reading Dexter?), and to let someone else’s words fill my thoughts.

Peace – Sarah


– Surrounded by clouds… of doubt –

Something’s not right with me. Everything feels off, like I’m watching someone else walk around in my body (and do a poor job at it). Maybe it’s just the rain.

I’m feeling unusually negative lately about a lot of things. Overall I just feel down, like I would be depressed if I actually allowed myself to be (but I won’t). Still I feel detached from the fire in me, the belief. I’m finding myself doubting my ability more than believing I will actually get to share it with people.

I think about the writers I love and I just can’t see myself worthy of being in the same class. I try to remind myself that they probably all started out like me, but for some reason I can’t make the thought stick. I hate feeling like this, thinking like this – it goes against the way I try to live. I know I have the strength to pull myself out of this funk, but right now I’m having a hard time accessing it.

I might start reading the Dexter series sooner than I thought now. Might be nice to read from a serial killers point of view and see what that’s like. Also I’m quite interested in the bloody element of the storyline, there’s a lot to learn from that for my story.

I’ve got to feed my mind something and right now it’s not writing. Maybe reading will do the trick.

Peace – Sarah


– Happy Sunday –

Today I woke up rather early for me on a weekend. Heath was still in bed so it was completely quiet in our apartment (well silent aside from the jingle of Tay’s color as she followed me everywhere I went). I passed by my book shelf several times debating whether I would start the new Dexter books I received early for my birthday (thanks future in-laws!) or if I should continue writing where I left off last night.

In the end I decided I wanted to keep writing because I was really on a roll yesterday and I could still feel my characters emotions coursing through my mind. But I was still yearning for something to read quickly before I started, something to awaken my mind a bit, so I picked up “100 Ways to simplify your life” by Joyce Meyer. I figured its Sunday, why not read a devotional?

I received this book as a Christmas present and hadn’t opened it yet, but today when I opened the first page I was immediately reminded why I love her devotionals and the way God works through her words to speak to me.

The first Joyce Meyer book I read was, “Battlefield of the Mind: 100 insights that will change the way you think”. It stood out to me one day at Walmart when I was trying to emerge from the darkness I’d been living in at the time. It’s designed to read daily, and in 100 days adjust your mindset. I read the first devotional in the store and it completely targeted my current struggle, it felt like I had to buy it now and so I did. I didn’t read it every day though, like intended. I only reached for it when my life felt weak; when I needed a mental strength pick me up. And almost every time I opened it the devotional for that day was absolutely a message for me or someone close to me struggling. And those messages were so straight forward and real.

Joyce Meyer is a strong headed woman who came from a very rough past. Her ability to put her lessons in such a simple real life example makes her feel like a regular person to me, not some famous author/preacher.

So back to today’s devotional, it was entitled “Do one thing at a time” and went on to explain the importance of focus.

“By putting our hands to one thing and our mind to another, we divide the muscle behind our abilities and we make the task much more difficult….. The ability to concentrate and stay focused can only come from discipline.”

I think I’ve stressed enough this week how difficult focus has been for me lately and the consequences I faced as a result of this. I wasn’t truly focused on anything last week, just allowing my mind to drift around. And my work suffered because of it. How do two little pages rework my brain so easily and give me strength to get myself in order? I don’t know, but I’m grateful for it. I wrote quite a bit last night and revised a chapter and that was making me feel pretty good, but now I feel stronger and more determined to stay focused this week. (Thanks Joyce Meyer!)

Back to my book now, the scene involves angry magic, vicious storms, and unbearable pain. It’s coming together nicely 😉

Peace – Sarah


Church music like this moves me…

A tale about Tay & the lesson learned

Cats don’t give up, they’re relentless. There’s a lesson we should learn from them.

Heath and I are sitting in our office – him working on the websites, me editing a chapter – and Tay (our cat) is driving us insane. Not me so much as him, but irritating regardless.

First she tries to get into his lap by reaching up slowly and pawing his right arm. She looks at him with those doughy eyes and waits. He pushes her down. She sits back down behind his chair and appears to be staring off into space, but what she’s really doing is giving him time. Waiting for a moment to see if she tries again he will be more willing the second time. On her second attempt he still rejects her.

Now she weights her options. First she tries to just get herself up there by creeping up under the chair arm, but he pushes her down before she can wedge herself through. So next she crosses behind the chair and attempts to sneak up unnoticed onto the left arm of his chair, but before she can complete the jump she is pushed back down. Heath grunts, “Tay, NO!”

She returns to her starting position and stares at him. I wonder what her next plan of attack is, because I know there is one. Then without any preparation she is suddenly in the air, leaping onto the top of the back of his chair. We’re amazed she can jump that high and chuckle about her resilience. He lets her stay there because she worked so hard for it and at least she’s not in his way.

She has no intention of staying there though, nor is she fit enough to balance on the thin back of the chair. As soon as she thinks Heath’s forgotten she’s there she walks down his chest and into his lap, but before she can get comfortable he pulls her up into his hands. Holding her like a rag doll, her arms bunched up around her cheeks – looking unbearably adorable, he says, “Tay, I’m working little girl,” and sits her on the ground.

She voices her discontent loudly, “Meow!”

We love how talkative she is and we smile imagining what curse word she might have just said to us. We return to our work and she paces behind his chair, plotting. She has no intentions of giving up.

She paws at my arm and I gullibly think she actually wants my attention. Being the sucker that I am I pick her up, but before I can tuck her into my arms she leaps onto my desk and darts across it onto Heath’s. As her paws hit his desk he looks at her annoyed, “Tay, are you serious? Get Down!”

She retreats, but only onto the small table between our desks. I don’t mind her there, but she’s really too big to sit there. She smells a few pieces of paper on Heath’s desk to make it look like she’s not trying to sneak up again and as soon as she thinks he’s not watching she flies onto the desk and lies down in front of the monitor. Her head shrinks back against it waiting for him to yell at her, still hoping he’ll let her stay though.

He doesn’t acknowledge her with words; he simply picks her up and puts her on the ground. He sighs with frustration. She waits again, thinking.

A couple of minutes pass and we think, good she gave up. But then suddenly in as few steps as possible she shoots up onto the small desk between ours and onto Heath’s desk. This time she lies down with arrogance like she’s staying there whether he wants her to or not. Because the obvious attitude in her expression is funny he folds and lets her stay there. He pushes her head down so it’s out of the way and returns to his work.

But the desk was never Tay’s ultimate objective, it was his lap. After a few minutes of her twisting into adorable poses with her paws over her eyes and her furry belly up to the ceiling she is irritated that she still couldn’t grasp his attention. She shoots up off the desk and slithers down into his lap.

Truth is he’d noticed all her little faces and poses on the desk and was weakened by her cuteness so this time he let her stay. He coos at her, “You are too cute Tay,” and she winks her eyes and purrs loud enough for me to hear on the other side of the room.

Completely content for achieving her goal she curls up into a ball in the bend of his knees and drifts to sleep.

Her unwillingness to give up on her goal got me thinking about how easily people give up in life, how people throw themselves pity parties when things aren’t easy for them instead of trudging forward. I hate this.

Nothing that we know today was accomplished by people who didn’t have ambition, who didn’t fight every step of the way to achieve their goal. It seems like there’s not enough people like this anymore. That too much of our society would rather find an excuse for quitting than to persevere. And I think the fact that our country in particular has been on a steady spiral to nowhere it’s time for people to wake up a bit and stop crying about their troubles so much and start doing something about them.

We are capable of achieving far more then we give ourselves credit for. It’s never easy, but it’s always more rewarding that way – when you have to work hard for it. And it’s far more respectable to be headstrong rather than a crybaby.

Just a thought. Time to return to revising my book.

Peace – Sarah


“Hates echo will always find its way back to the ears of those who delivered it. Don’t be hates conduit. Be the wind of love and understanding – each breeze could warm a heart.” – Heath Harris (Epic Savier)


Curse you, “Space”

All of the time I spent staring off into space this week finally had a serious repercussion, worse then just the procrastination of my story. I completely dropped the ball at work this week forgetting to schedule two final locations and they are in PA so it’s not an easy quick project to do. Those houses were scheduled to settle today and yesterday the client contacted me looking for them and I never even had them on the schedule. I have NEVER messed up a settlement; in fact I typically try to have the locations and descriptions to them a few days in advance. Disrupting a builder’s settlement schedule could potentially cost us big time!

So in an effort to still somehow provide them with the plats and legal descriptions in time for today’s noon settlement I had to pull a field guy off a job and send him up to PA, while I prepped the plans and descriptions so that as soon he returned I could just plot the points, draft the house, have them reviewed-signed-sealed, and race them out the door.

Luckily, somehow, I got all of this accomplished before 11am – just in time for the first settlement. Thank God it all worked out ok, but still I can’t believe the failure on my part. I am so anal retentive that I keep a schedule pinned right in front of my face at my desk and I update it daily to make sure I’m on top of all that needs to be done. How I overlooked two entire houses in the same community is beyond me. (Subconsciously hears Heath saying in his best Tropic Thunder impression, “It’s beyond ME,” and I laugh to make light of the situation)

As far as space and my book are concerned, as a result of my stunt in the backseat of the car yesterday I felt too uneasy all night to write again so space took over. I really hope to write something of substance this weekend though because I’m actually getting sick of space right now. It can be fun to let your mind wander, but seriously I’ve had enough at this point. It’s time to get back on track in more areas then just my book and job and in order for that to happen space needs to stop toying with me.

Peace – Sarah


– A Break in the Clouds –

Finally, I wrote something last night. Not something to really brag about, just under 1000 words, but at least I wrote it. I could have kept going, but the clock read 1am and knowing I had to be up in 5 hours for work forced me to call it a night. As usual, the story comes to me at the most inopportune times. If I didn’t have a day job… ah the possibilities (maybe one day).

It feels oddly refreshing though to have finally written something new and not be focused on constantly reading and re-reading and taking an axe to what was once beautiful. Of course I still have plenty more of that “dirty” work to do, but a different part of the story (one I hadn’t written yet) approached me last night and so I let it run its course. I hope to be able to resume tonight.

I came across a bit of writing knowledge yesterday that dampened my spirit some. I’d always considered my book geared towards young adults, but according to some YA standards my main characters are too old for a YA novel. They are 21, but innocently so, having never experienced things that normal teenagers do (school dances, first kisses, friendship, etc…). I’ve seen some say that YA should be within the ages of 12-18, while others like the Wikipedia page say 14-21. I really don’t want to adjust the age of my characters because so much surrounds the age 21 in my story, but I also don’t want to force my characters to be more adult based if that’s the group of readers I will have to target (if it can’t be a YA novel). I don’t know what to do or think about this right now. I wish someone with experience in this could give me some more insight on the matter.

Moving on…

So because I seem to be incapable of going prolonged periods without at least mentioning music I have to say that I think me and music are starting to have a love-hate relationship. [The same goes for my IPod who continues to crash on me or make my PC do screwy things when I’m trying to update it.] I’ve been feigning music lately, more than usual – like a drug addict or something, but I’m blowing through new content as if it has an expiration date. Not that I’m getting bored with it or anything, but I keep coming across new stuff in large batches at a time and adding it to the “Stuff to check out” playlist and said playlist is a beast now! Somehow though, with all of these new tracks it still doesn’t feel like enough, like I actually still need more (something like 61 GB worth of music on my PC assures me that I don’t). And more is definitely NOT the answer because lately music has played a large part in my minds waste-of-time walk through La La Land.

Music has always created beautiful pictures in my mind. A scene that would fit the tone or lyrics of the song or images of memories that song has given me, but I really don’t need all of that imagination right now. I need to direct my creative forces into one thread of thought, not let it wonder around aimlessly and tease me with new ideas that I don’t have the time or energy to entertain.

I had a really good soundtrack put together while I wrote my book the first time and listening to that while writing never distracted me. But now that soundtrack is kind of null & void since the changes I’m making are so drastic and those songs will no longer have ties to the story. Several of the new tracks I’ve been listening to lately are book soundtrack worthy, but I want to hear all of the others too since they’re all new to me right now. Those other songs are the ones that are encouraging my wondering mind though because they’d make a nice soundtrack too just not to the story I’m currently writing.

(Sigh) Oh music, I love you so, but we’ve really got to find a happy medium between us and soon.

Peace – Sarah


Note to Self: You were having a pretty good day until you decided to get creative and write a scene in the backseat of a car traveling through rolling hills – on an empty stomach – with unsatisfying music thumping right against your ear. Look at you now, feeling all sick and what not. What you wrote was good, but now you’ve possibly compromised your writing for the rest of the night. Could it have waited? Yes. Remember that next time.


– They take – from the “Nobody” –

People flock to me, like blood sucking mosquitoes needing their fix, feigning for my words of advice, encouragement, and prayers.

WHY? What’s so special about what I have to say or how I say it? What makes it so much different than hearing it from someone who is actually your friend, when I am not – I am merely an acquaintance, if even that in some cases?

It baffles me to no end. I’m so very weird and unusual and always have been – a birth defect, I suppose. And being so strangely me has pushed people away from creating real friendships with me almost my entire life – people don’t love freaks, I get it.

So then why do they come to me? Why do people who never even ask how my life is going continually come to me to coax them into a better place? What makes my words so valuable, but not me as an actual friend? Aren’t those things one in the same? My mind, my heart = me, right?

Several people from my high school said to me many years after graduating, “I always wanted to walk around inside your head, see things how you saw them – feel them like you felt them,” or something to that nature… If that statement is true than why weren’t we actually friends? And how can it be that people admired my mind so much, but never really knew me to begin with because I was too different from the norm?

None of it makes sense to me. And as much as I do thoroughly enjoy helping people, I’m getting that icky feeling of abuse again. People, who could give two shits about me, but take advantage of the heart I wear on my sleeve when they’re too broken to pick up their own pieces.

I try not to let this negative way of thinking entertain my thoughts because above all of it, good deeds are done for God and regardless of whether I understand it or not I’ve always felt like His purpose for me was to be heard.

It can be frustrating though, some people literally feed off of me everyday. They start my morning off with their sorrows and once I’ve given them the uplifting they need they bail. What, do I not qualify for conversations outside of your personal problems? Those are for “real” friends? It just seems screwy; the “real” friends are the ones who should be helping these people, not me – not the “nobody”.

Peace – Sarah


Sitting permanently fixed in my daydreaming state

Seriously I can not stay focused.

My mind was completely in space all day at work today, I can’t keep doing this. And it’s not even like I was in one particular space the whole time, it’s not like any of the thoughts swimming around up there even had any relevance to anything so it was just completely wasted time. Useless things like how I use chap stick more then the average person and somehow my lips still seem chapped and that thought wondered to whether it’s safe to use chap stick as much as I do or not and as I put the chap stick away for the millionth time today the thoughts were immediately erased and replaced with something else completely random. I feel like I have ADD sometimes, although I know I don’t.

And I foolishly listened to some music that Maggie was listening to (Florence & the Machine) and got hooked so my “break from music” last week was also a waste. But I love this new music too much to quit it just yet. It makes me want to dance in a ridiculous way without a care in the world. (Go ahead, you can laugh imagining that)

All of this time in “space” got me thinking tonight though because I’ve got to get some sort of control up there and soon. Here’s what I came up with.

– I’ve been craving books. I’ve previewed like 20 books in the last couple of days on Amazon adding them to my wish list like I’m some sort of shopaholic (which I’m definitely not). I’m not allowed to buy any until my birthday though because that’s all my b-day wish list consisted of. It’s not far off, but I really want to read them – like now.

– I’m a lot more distraught over the changes that are necessary for my story to be what it needs to be then I originally thought I would be. I mean I’m still far more pleased with this new direction, but there are so many replacements of entire scenes, back story, and dialogue that need to happen. I’m finding myself sad to have to chop some of the stuff I thought was the better parts of the book, but there’s just no place for them now. I’ve been able to shift a few scenes around which was nice, but overall the whole process has been overwhelming.

Truthfully I think all of the “space” time is my brain trying to avoid difficulty which disappoints me. And maybe even the sudden urge to read is a way to justify to myself that it’s okay to give the book a break.

The real me disagrees. This is something I really want to finish and sooner rather then later. I already feel like it’s been too long, like I should have more accomplished by now. Something has to start clicking again up there and stop wasting so much time.

Desperately hoping the story doesn’t lose its luster while I impatiently wait for clarity to resurface in my mind.

Peace – Sarah


I write better than I speak, but I think better than I write