For too long I've tried to write like my favorite writers. Wendell Berry in the woods with pencil and paper. Hemingway in the early morning hours and with a typewriter. I've always written my first draft in pen and paper, and maybe that's why there have never been any second drafts. It is an astoundingly tedious process to read my handwriting while transcribing the words to a digital copy. I started a story about a patient and their family from the ICU in pen, then typed what I had written and then printed it without saving. Now I am retyping the story and saving it. The idea being I would get three shots at the first draft by necessity. Revision built in.
I thought that might be my process for a while. But goddamn was that hard.
So, I jumped on the National Novel Writing Month bandwagon. And I have really enjoyed the process. Typing the first draft is much easier and much less time consuming, though decidedly not as cool. And the attractive website to update word counts is an encouragement. And a solid, but doable goal of 1600 words a day to work towards makes me feel like I've accomplished something every day.
Here I am at seven days of writing. Every day I have put at least 1600 words, from my head, into the world. I'm not enthralled with the output (yet), but the process has been good. And I think that's the goal of NaNoWriMo (god I hate that); to just write. It's demonstrated to me that I do in fact have the chops to sit and just write.
And that's a good feeling.
Thursday, November 7, 2019
Tuesday, October 29, 2019
Again, With Feeling This Time
This blog was started while I was on a mission trip in Burkina Faso, in West Africa the summer following my freshman year of college. I started it with the intent of updating family while I was abroad. Based on my family's first questions when I stepped off the airplane in Indianapolis all those years ago, the blog was a miserable failure; early in that summer I had cut my foot on a shard of glass. My foot had healed and I had forgotten all about it until my youngest sister asked, fearing the worst, how my foot was. Out of Africa
Following my return form Africa there were years of silence as I continued ignoring its presence. Come my senior of college I had discovered a new desire for literary expression. Four years at a christian university, and interactions with people from many different backgrounds had finally educated the religion right out of me. The steady, slow, but not insidious dissolution of what had become my substance found voice, for a time on this blog. God Is Love, There Is No God and We Are His Prophets
After college I had a sojourn in France teaching English. That time was spent steeping in my, then, new understanding of life. I wrote a few times while there, but experiences were my bread and butter and there was little time for reflection. Public Transit
Following France I returned to my home town. I lived with my grandmother and tended bar. I had traveled back there to be with her. Attempts at freelance translation and efforts to gain employ as an interpreter were frustrated. Had I kept on that tack I might have eventually arrived; but as is evident from this blog, I don't have a lot of patience for the long game. While home I felt lost, and confused. I met the director of the local college's nursing school. She said I had 'good bedside manor', and 'would you like to be a nurse'?
Then I started nursing school. I wrote a few articles based on what I was learning and took a strangely deep dive into various iterations of the Shakespeare play 'Much Ado About Nothing'. Driven, Oh, That I Had Been Write Down an Ass
That last post was nearly five years ago.
In the interim I have found, and lost, love twice. I moved to Denver, Colorado and missed my grandmother's funeral. I have moved from the Emergency Department where I was mean, hateful, stressed, and convinced that everyone will screw you if you let them and I am now in the ICU where I am less stressed, mean, and hateful, and have learned that people just have bad days sometimes. And some will still say 'fuck you' in the same breath that they are asking for a turkey sandwich. I have taken up rock climbing, sailing, and the #vanlife.
I still possess a desire for literary expression. And I have a significantly more vast lived experience than before. Maybe this time it'll take? Check back in to see for yourself.
Following my return form Africa there were years of silence as I continued ignoring its presence. Come my senior of college I had discovered a new desire for literary expression. Four years at a christian university, and interactions with people from many different backgrounds had finally educated the religion right out of me. The steady, slow, but not insidious dissolution of what had become my substance found voice, for a time on this blog. God Is Love, There Is No God and We Are His Prophets
After college I had a sojourn in France teaching English. That time was spent steeping in my, then, new understanding of life. I wrote a few times while there, but experiences were my bread and butter and there was little time for reflection. Public Transit
Following France I returned to my home town. I lived with my grandmother and tended bar. I had traveled back there to be with her. Attempts at freelance translation and efforts to gain employ as an interpreter were frustrated. Had I kept on that tack I might have eventually arrived; but as is evident from this blog, I don't have a lot of patience for the long game. While home I felt lost, and confused. I met the director of the local college's nursing school. She said I had 'good bedside manor', and 'would you like to be a nurse'?
Then I started nursing school. I wrote a few articles based on what I was learning and took a strangely deep dive into various iterations of the Shakespeare play 'Much Ado About Nothing'. Driven, Oh, That I Had Been Write Down an Ass
That last post was nearly five years ago.
In the interim I have found, and lost, love twice. I moved to Denver, Colorado and missed my grandmother's funeral. I have moved from the Emergency Department where I was mean, hateful, stressed, and convinced that everyone will screw you if you let them and I am now in the ICU where I am less stressed, mean, and hateful, and have learned that people just have bad days sometimes. And some will still say 'fuck you' in the same breath that they are asking for a turkey sandwich. I have taken up rock climbing, sailing, and the #vanlife.
I still possess a desire for literary expression. And I have a significantly more vast lived experience than before. Maybe this time it'll take? Check back in to see for yourself.
Saturday, July 12, 2014
Oh, That I Had Been Writ Down an Ass!
Twenty-Six days remain!
Two papers, a handful of tests, one more day of clinical, some journals, and insufferable lecture periods remains. That test I mentioned in the previous post-- killed it. I received a 99% probability of passing boards.
So, Much Ado About Nothing.
Benedick has overheard that Beatrice loves him, and Beatrice that she is loved as well. Then, the debacle at the wedding leaves Beatrice angry to the point of murder (for Beatrice and Hero are cousins) and charges Benedick to kill Claudio. Benedick asks Beatrice for which of his bad parts she loved him first and she in turn asks for which of her good parts did he suffer love. Benedick says he indeed suffers love, for it is against his will and the they are too 'wise to woo peaceably'.
The good news arrives that Hero is alive and belied, Claudio and Don Pedro abused, and John the Bastard fled. Here Benedick uses the pick-up line I will use from hence forth; " I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be buried in thy eyes".
Finally, Claudio and Hero are married and the question of Benedick and Beatrice must be answered. Each asks the other if they love them and each responds in kind, in one last ditch effort to avoid being wedded, "No, no more than reason." And to the rescue the rest of the merry cast comes to produce letters each had written to the other expressing their love. And, Benedick stops her mouth with a kiss.
So, what does this all mean? For me? For you? I wonder if maybe it means nothing. Maybe Shakespeare was simply telling a story, a love story, that could inspire love or not. At the very least it could inspire a laugh, and an empathetic reaction, not a life changing realization. I believe I responded thus to the song because I am accustomed to responding to music in that way. But books do that, too.
I am left, I guess wondering, if I could be so bold to tell Love he must turn me into an oyster before I could ever settle.
In the end, it's a comedy with a happy ending. Except for the witticisms, quick quotes, and use of the language it was just as vapid when Shakespeare wrote it as when it is reproduced in every romantic comedy to this day. But, there was a bumbling constable in this one.
Two papers, a handful of tests, one more day of clinical, some journals, and insufferable lecture periods remains. That test I mentioned in the previous post-- killed it. I received a 99% probability of passing boards.
So, Much Ado About Nothing.
Benedick has overheard that Beatrice loves him, and Beatrice that she is loved as well. Then, the debacle at the wedding leaves Beatrice angry to the point of murder (for Beatrice and Hero are cousins) and charges Benedick to kill Claudio. Benedick asks Beatrice for which of his bad parts she loved him first and she in turn asks for which of her good parts did he suffer love. Benedick says he indeed suffers love, for it is against his will and the they are too 'wise to woo peaceably'.
The good news arrives that Hero is alive and belied, Claudio and Don Pedro abused, and John the Bastard fled. Here Benedick uses the pick-up line I will use from hence forth; " I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be buried in thy eyes".
Finally, Claudio and Hero are married and the question of Benedick and Beatrice must be answered. Each asks the other if they love them and each responds in kind, in one last ditch effort to avoid being wedded, "No, no more than reason." And to the rescue the rest of the merry cast comes to produce letters each had written to the other expressing their love. And, Benedick stops her mouth with a kiss.
So, what does this all mean? For me? For you? I wonder if maybe it means nothing. Maybe Shakespeare was simply telling a story, a love story, that could inspire love or not. At the very least it could inspire a laugh, and an empathetic reaction, not a life changing realization. I believe I responded thus to the song because I am accustomed to responding to music in that way. But books do that, too.
I am left, I guess wondering, if I could be so bold to tell Love he must turn me into an oyster before I could ever settle.
In the end, it's a comedy with a happy ending. Except for the witticisms, quick quotes, and use of the language it was just as vapid when Shakespeare wrote it as when it is reproduced in every romantic comedy to this day. But, there was a bumbling constable in this one.
Tuesday, July 8, 2014
If This Were So, So Were It Uttered
I have 30 days now till the end of nursing school and the beginning of the rest of my life. And tomorrow is the deciding test of whether or not I will actually graduate, so what should I do? Give this follow up post as promised of course! I completed reading Much Ado About Nothing Sunday night and have found I greatly enjoyed at least this of Shakespeare's many plays. My understanding of it based on the Mumford and Sons' song and a brief perusing of google and sparknotes was... passable. Though there are many intricacies I missed, but found upon reading.
A brief synopsis will be useful here, but I do believe there to be better ones else where on the internet. Following a successful war where few men of importance were killed a prince, named Claudio, and his friend Benedick return to Messina. Claudio feels the need to settle down and meet a good woman with a good name and goes about it in classic style, having someone else pass the word to the girl he wishes to woo to her at a masked ball.
It should be noted, now, that apparently, 'Nothing' in the original dialect and accent sounded like noting, so there is a play on words in the title. All of the characters make rash decision based on things they over hear, or note, when they shouldn't or when others arrange for them to "accidentally" note a tidbit of information. Hence, there occurs in the course of the play, much ado about 'noting' which amounts to nothing.
So, Claudio notes, from the villainous Don John the Bastard and his cronies, the false story that Hero, his love interest, has been unfaithful. He swallows this hard until the day of the wedding and lets the barbs fly causing Hero to pass out and appear dead. Long story short, she was not dead. Dogberry, the laughable hero and fumbling constable, saves the day, and Hero and Claudio are reunited at the end in a double wedding.
A double wedding?
Why, yes, I am glad you ask. While Claudio and Hero provide the back bone of the story, their personages are static and don't change; playing what I imagine to be the classic love story of the time (and today): Love. Misunderstanding. Resolution. Love. This is seen so often today that for me it was rather lack-luster.
Now, Benedick and Beatrice. That's a different story all together. They are both dead set on never, ever, ever, being with anyone. In fact, Beatrice says, "I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me." And Benedick in his turn states, "May I be so converted and see with those eyes (here he addresses Claudio's recent fall into love)? I cannot tell; I think not. I will not be sworn but Love may transform me to an oyster, but i'll take my oath on it, till he have made an oyster of me, he shall never make me such a fool."
Benedick's last line occurs just prior to Don Pedro and Claudio arranging for him to over hear the false report of Beatrice's love for him. It is during this exchanged that the title of the song comes into play, a troubadour named Balthasar sings the words, "Sigh no more, ladies... men were deceivers ever, one foot in sea one on shore". So, here, Benedick notes that Beatrice indeed loves him. Mere minutes after daring love to turn him into an oyster he states, "When I said I would die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I were married"... "I do spy some marks of love in her." Does she "Love me? it must be requited." And Beatrice, for her part, says after noting Benedick's love for her says "Contempt, farewell, and maiden pride, adieu!...And Benedick, love on; I will requite thee, taming my wild heart to thy loving hand."
Actually, this grows too long. And I do feel the need to study. I will finish this up at a later date. How's that for a dramatic pause!
A brief synopsis will be useful here, but I do believe there to be better ones else where on the internet. Following a successful war where few men of importance were killed a prince, named Claudio, and his friend Benedick return to Messina. Claudio feels the need to settle down and meet a good woman with a good name and goes about it in classic style, having someone else pass the word to the girl he wishes to woo to her at a masked ball.
It should be noted, now, that apparently, 'Nothing' in the original dialect and accent sounded like noting, so there is a play on words in the title. All of the characters make rash decision based on things they over hear, or note, when they shouldn't or when others arrange for them to "accidentally" note a tidbit of information. Hence, there occurs in the course of the play, much ado about 'noting' which amounts to nothing.
So, Claudio notes, from the villainous Don John the Bastard and his cronies, the false story that Hero, his love interest, has been unfaithful. He swallows this hard until the day of the wedding and lets the barbs fly causing Hero to pass out and appear dead. Long story short, she was not dead. Dogberry, the laughable hero and fumbling constable, saves the day, and Hero and Claudio are reunited at the end in a double wedding.
A double wedding?
Why, yes, I am glad you ask. While Claudio and Hero provide the back bone of the story, their personages are static and don't change; playing what I imagine to be the classic love story of the time (and today): Love. Misunderstanding. Resolution. Love. This is seen so often today that for me it was rather lack-luster.
Now, Benedick and Beatrice. That's a different story all together. They are both dead set on never, ever, ever, being with anyone. In fact, Beatrice says, "I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me." And Benedick in his turn states, "May I be so converted and see with those eyes (here he addresses Claudio's recent fall into love)? I cannot tell; I think not. I will not be sworn but Love may transform me to an oyster, but i'll take my oath on it, till he have made an oyster of me, he shall never make me such a fool."
Benedick's last line occurs just prior to Don Pedro and Claudio arranging for him to over hear the false report of Beatrice's love for him. It is during this exchanged that the title of the song comes into play, a troubadour named Balthasar sings the words, "Sigh no more, ladies... men were deceivers ever, one foot in sea one on shore". So, here, Benedick notes that Beatrice indeed loves him. Mere minutes after daring love to turn him into an oyster he states, "When I said I would die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I were married"... "I do spy some marks of love in her." Does she "Love me? it must be requited." And Beatrice, for her part, says after noting Benedick's love for her says "Contempt, farewell, and maiden pride, adieu!...And Benedick, love on; I will requite thee, taming my wild heart to thy loving hand."
Actually, this grows too long. And I do feel the need to study. I will finish this up at a later date. How's that for a dramatic pause!
Friday, June 27, 2014
The Beauty of Love As It Was Made to Be
With but 40 days of nursing school left, and a paucity of motivation, I have recently re/discovered a Mumford and Sons' song which takes inspiration from Shakespeare's play, Much Ado About Nothing. I listened to it, and felt it. I felt it like one feels a breeze, or the tide. And like a wind or the tide can move you, so this song did me.
So, here, presently, I will present my thoughts on the song, then, after a period, I will locate and read the play, Much Ado About Nothing, write again my thoughts on that, followed finally by Joss Whedon's film version.
So, here, presently, I will present my thoughts on the song, then, after a period, I will locate and read the play, Much Ado About Nothing, write again my thoughts on that, followed finally by Joss Whedon's film version.
Serve God, love me and mend
This is not the end
Live unbruised, we are friends
And I'm sorry
I'm sorry
Sigh no more, no more
One foot in sea, one on shore
My heart was never pure
And, you know me
You know me
But man is a giddy thing
Oh, man is a giddy thing
Oh, man is a giddy thing
Oh, man is a giddy thing
Love, it will not betray you
Dismay or enslave you, it will set you free
Be more like the man you were made to be
There is a design, an alignment
A cry of my heart to see
The beauty of love as it was made to be.
According to a quick google search, the second verse is the quote from the play. It speaks to the giddy nature of man; one foot in a ship, yearning to enact the listless life of sailors; whoring women, whoring ports of call, and callous, thoughtless experiences, and the other foot on the shore, ready to love one land, one woman, one experience. My heart was never pure.
"My heart was never pure, " he said to his exasperated lover. "You knew that when we started out on this journey." This is not an excuse, nor a cop-out. This is a heartfelt acknowledgment of guilt, of a profound, roots deep problem.
Then, his lover exclaims love to him. Urging him to be the man he was made to be. Saying, "Sure, you fucked up, and it sucks. But you are not bound to that."
Oh! And then with despair, hope, repentance, desire, and fear he cries the most religious word: "Yes!" There is something there, a design, a tugging in my heart, to know what it is to stand with both feet on the shore. "I want to love one woman, one land, one story, one life."
Then, ad infinitum. Until it takes. His lover replies, "Serve God, love me and mend. This is not the end. Live unbruised, we are friends."
"I'm sorry."
I'm sorry.
Thursday, February 13, 2014
Paralysis of Choice
Matching socks, or not? Tennis shoes, or boots? Clean underwear, or... meh? These are all decisions with which I am comfortable struggling on a daily basis. I understand how to make them, have made them many times before, and understand the consequences of each. But what happens when a choice comes a long that one is wholly un-prepared to make?
Paralysis of choice, I believe originates with Barry Schwartz (check out his TED talk about the very thing Barry Schwartz). The general idea is that choice, which is 'supposed' to bring freedom to individuals actually finishes by taking away a certain amount of freedom by locking us in an impossible space where the very ubiquity of choice leads to to choice being made.
For me, it's a question of missing out. FOMO. Look it up Urban Dictionary.
There are SO many fields in nursing from which I could pick! ER, ICU, Med-surg, peds, oncology, labor and delivery, to pursue or not to pursue NP, or CRNA, or DNP... the list is huge... and they all seem promising to me.
We've been asked to make our desires known for our capstone placement this summer. A capstone project is the culmination of all the work in nursing school and provides each student with a significant (albeit safe) amount of autonomy, and an ability to practice one-on-one with a preceptor without half a dozen, or more, other students vying for attention from the same over-worked nurse.
And on top of all that, we're meant to choose between different institutions, too. Stay in town, or go to Indianapolis, or Bloomington or else where. And to make these decisions a third of the way through the second to last semester having not experienced everything we will experience! We hear stories all the time about nurses being hired to the very unit they in which they did their capstone, too.
The resume that is turned in to each hospital to which we apply asks what our one year, five year, and ten year plans are. I wanna say, "Hell if I know." But can't. So I throw in words that look good to those hospitals, like "becoming an expert in my field", or "prioritization", and the holy grail of catch phrases, "evidence based practice".
I have no idea how to make this decision. And what of the consequences? Is this setting up the rest of my career as a nurse, or am I just over thinking it? Either way, to many choices. Just tell me what to do.
Please.
Paralysis of choice, I believe originates with Barry Schwartz (check out his TED talk about the very thing Barry Schwartz). The general idea is that choice, which is 'supposed' to bring freedom to individuals actually finishes by taking away a certain amount of freedom by locking us in an impossible space where the very ubiquity of choice leads to to choice being made.
For me, it's a question of missing out. FOMO. Look it up Urban Dictionary.
There are SO many fields in nursing from which I could pick! ER, ICU, Med-surg, peds, oncology, labor and delivery, to pursue or not to pursue NP, or CRNA, or DNP... the list is huge... and they all seem promising to me.
We've been asked to make our desires known for our capstone placement this summer. A capstone project is the culmination of all the work in nursing school and provides each student with a significant (albeit safe) amount of autonomy, and an ability to practice one-on-one with a preceptor without half a dozen, or more, other students vying for attention from the same over-worked nurse.
And on top of all that, we're meant to choose between different institutions, too. Stay in town, or go to Indianapolis, or Bloomington or else where. And to make these decisions a third of the way through the second to last semester having not experienced everything we will experience! We hear stories all the time about nurses being hired to the very unit they in which they did their capstone, too.
The resume that is turned in to each hospital to which we apply asks what our one year, five year, and ten year plans are. I wanna say, "Hell if I know." But can't. So I throw in words that look good to those hospitals, like "becoming an expert in my field", or "prioritization", and the holy grail of catch phrases, "evidence based practice".
I have no idea how to make this decision. And what of the consequences? Is this setting up the rest of my career as a nurse, or am I just over thinking it? Either way, to many choices. Just tell me what to do.
Please.
Monday, July 29, 2013
A Stones Throw
I watched two lumpectomies, a knee scope, and two cholecystectomies today.
Wow.
I am amazed at what we, humans, have accomplished in the few short years we have been moving about on this planet. The surgeon literally pulled a patient's stone filled gallbladder through a tiny incision in the abdomen; threaded a drainage tube through another tiny hole and out another; I shook my head in wonder.
Really something else...
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