Me vs. The Short Story.

*it's just a 2 post kinda day, I guess...*

Short stories are tough. Very, very tough in my opinion. You might think that writing something short would be easier than writing a full length novel, but in someways it is not-at least for me. For school I have been reading/analyzing/reviewing a whole lot of short stories; reading them is great, but writing them is a trick. And soon decent one under 2,000 words is going to be required of me, so I am trying to get in some practice. Hopefully in this way short stories and I can strengthen our unstable relationship.

The hardest part for me in writing a short story is that it is a SHORT story. My favorite aspects of fiction writing include plot and character developement, but in a short story those things are condensed a lot a lot. Trying to fit what I feel like is an adequate story into 2,000 words is a humongous challenge! Often characters don't even get names, setting isn't all that important, and you can't unfold a complex, multi-leveled plot over that spans over several hundred pages. For me that is downright aggravating...
But versitiliy in writing is KEY, and as I hope to get my writing career off the ground with a bit of freelancing, the short story is just something I am going the have to conquer.

That being said, here is attempt #1. I'm not even entirely sure why I wrote this particular story; I just did. I don't know what to think of it, so you might as well tell me what you think...

THE DAY THE SKY FELL DOWN

You know the story, the one about the chicken who thinks the sky fell down on his head? I’ve heard that story. And it’s nothing like the real thing. I was there the day that the sky fell down. I’m telling you, it was nothing like the story.

The day before was a typical day in the summer of 19--; a light breeze blew and the sun tickled your cheeks; a perfect day for a boy of my size to start making his fortune, so me and Frankie from the house next store started up a lemonade stand. By noon we had made one dollar off of our product- which sold at twenty cents a cup. By dinner we had made a whole dollar and twenty cents. That night the two of us went home, Frankie with 40 cents in his pocket and the rest in mine, being as they were my lemons that we squeezed the juice out of. The next day we were gunna do it again; we figured by the end of the summer we could buy a boat to take sailing out on the lake. We had it all planned out; our futures were upon us and we were ready.

But we didn’t account for what would happen next. What happened next changed everything.

The day after I walked out onto my front lawn to set up our stand once more but the lawn wasn’t there.
Well… I s’pose it was, only it was covered in this flakey blue mess that looked like someone has thrown sheets paper all over the ground. The road looked the same. I looked up at the clouds to check and see what the weather was looking like…only there were no clouds. There was no weather.

There was…nothing. The sky was...gone.

Now, it’s hard to explain what “nothing” looks like, but I tell you for sure there was nothing there. Where the blue expanse that was dotted with clouds had the day before, was now nothing but emptiness. There was only….well; it’s hard to say what it was. More of a sound than a sight. This low hum. It was like there was a wild wind, but with no movement, no feeling. It was like the sun’s glow, only without the light and warmth.

I looked up. I looked down.

The sky was scattered on my front lawn.

I leapt backwards onto the safety of my doorstep when I realized the true horror of the situation. The sky was on my front lawn. In its place was nothing.

I screamed for my mother, like I usually did when I was having a nightmare. But the sound hissed out of my mouth and filled the emptiness around me, my voice blended with the hum. No one heard.

I looked for my neighbors. The houses were all there. The trees. The cars. The whole deal! Only everyone had pieces of the heavens strewn across their grass!

No one was coming to save me. My mother wasn’t coming to wake me from the nightmare. What else was a boy to do? Carefully I snapped a branch off of the little piney shrub next to our doorstep. I poked the ground, or the sky rather, with the branch. Nothing happened. No sound. No feeling. No explosions. I edged one toe off the step and gingerly stood on it. I stood on the sky. Again, nothing. Emboldened, I bent and picked up a piece of it; it was flimsy like a sheet of the Sunday’s newspaper, but soft like the flannel pajamas with big red clown-like buttons that my grandma had given me at Christmas one year. I shook it, it didn’t crinkle, it didn’t rip. I threw it- HIGH. It didn’t suspend itself back where it belonged, instead it floated noiselessly back onto the lawn, covering up the patch of green that I had exposed.

I ran inside and slammed the door. After counting to ten I opened it back up again and sure as anything the sky was still there, right where it didn’t belong.

I bounded up the stairs screaming my dad’s name. He was a smart guy, maybe he could fix it. But what does mailman know about unusual weather circumstances? But still, dads know a lot. At least I thought mine did.

“DAD! The sky! It fell. The sky is on the front lawn, Dad. I tried to put it back but….”

“What?” my father asked, as he rolled over gently, trying not to wake my mother.

“The sky. It’s on the lawn. It’s all blue and it feels my P.J.’s from grandma!”

He rolled the other way to look out the window, but the faded floral curtains were drawn shut. “Prob’ly just fog, son. It’ll pass. Go on downstairs and turn on the coffee pot. I’ll be down in a bit.”

I kicked the side of his bed with my slippered foot. “THE SKY FELL DOWN DAD! COFFEE ISN’T GUNNA FIX IT!”

“Yes, yes,” said my father as he tied his robe on

I stomped down the stairs and peeked out the window. Sure enough, just as I had said, there was no sky in the sky. I opened up the front door and jumped on the sky. I jumped and stomped and danced around in a fiery fit.

I hear my dad’s footsteps on the stairs; I flung open the door and cried “LOOK!”

He did. He blinked a couple times. He ran left hand through his hair, like he did after having a bit of a fight with mother. He chewed on his lip a bit and said nothing.

“That’s the sky, Dad! All over our grass, just like I told you. That’s a whole bunch of sky!” My voice sounded hollowed, like I was in a cave, only with no echo.

My dad said nothing. He just stood there blinking his eyes, chewing his lip and rubbing his gray streaked hair.

Couple minutes later my mother came down the stairs, robe on, hair in a disheveled braid, looking down at her slippers, “Boys, shut that door! The …” She stopped and made a little sucking noise as she drew air quickly into her lungs. Her mouth quivering, she walked out onto the step and stood next to my father.

Slowly he put his arm around her shoulders. Her eyes just kept getting wider or maybe her face was just getting smaller.

“It’s…the sky…” I tried to explain. But neither said anything. “WHY IS IT ON THE GRASS? WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO?” I yelled at my mute parents, aggravated and a bit scared that I was the only one feeling the need to take some sort of action on this problem. Things like that weren’t supposed to happen. SOMEONE had to fix it!

My dad just shook his head and stared blankly. “Sometimes things are just out of our control, son…”

Quote-ables.

This weekend I was at a Pastors' conference (*no, i am no a pastor, nor do I pretend to be; I was playing keyboard for worship) and there I learned a very interesting lesson about...tightrope walking? Yes, tightrope walking.

Pastor Mike Cavanaugh, who was the speaker there, was teaching on church leadership and such and somewhere in his teaching he got to an example of having vision, which tied into tightrope walking. I found it quite interesting.

Apparently somewhere in his pastoral career he got to meet Tino Wallenda. Yes, of the legendary "Flying Wallendas" circus family ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Flying_Wallendas ). They got to talking about tightropes and how the Wellendas starting training all their children to do it on a rope just barely off the floor at a very young age, like 2 -3 years old! Pastor Mike, just a bit older than 3, then asked if Tino could teach HIM to walk a tightrope.

Tino agreed and took him to a thin little rope just two feet off the ground and said that the first thing he needed to know about tightrope walking was this;

"WHERE YOU LOOK IS WHERE YOU'LL GO."

Wow. Think about it. That's some good advice.

Tino told him to fix his eyes on a high point somewhere in front of him, rather than looking down. Looking down is scary, but looking up straight forward isn't so bad. Tino knows what he is talking about; that's him riding a bicycle up there...

And trust me. I know too. I've bungeed 265 feet off of a bridge.

But back to vision;
What are you setting your sights on? The promise of the favor of God? Or failure? After hearing this, maybe you want to refocus...

"Hey, have I mentioned that I make awesome hats?"

That title there is my new favorite phrase; I say it quite frequently. I have been saying it so much that I am pushing my younger sister, "Faz," to the point of anger and mild acts of violence. She took my hat away and wouldn't give it back until she was sick of me doing a loud car alarm impression.

But really, have I mentioned it? I DO. I make some seriously awesome hats.
In the last day and a half I created this SCHWEET beret out of some fuzzy red yarn [Sensations,SUMPTUOUS, 100% Acrylic, if you care] that Emikel bought be for Christmas last year (I tend to cherish and save my creative supplies until I think of the perfect project for them.).
I really wanted to use it to make a beret, but I couldn't find a pattern that I liked. I have previously done 2 berets, and even followed real people patterns, but they came out too small and not at all like I wanted them too. By the way, I have a new favorite resource site, for those of you who like to knit- http://www.ravelry.com/ - it might change your life. I spent an hour on there looking through patterns, getting inspired, but not quite finding what I was envisioning for usage of my red hot yarn. Then I looked at berets at Target; a normal person would have at that point bought one of the fine hats at Target for around 15 bucks and given up.

But I am not normal and I do not give up.

So, because I couldn't find a pattern, I made one up, stitch by stitch. Things always work out best for me that way...
And let me just tell you, it is uber fantastic.

If I can remember how I did it (in an understandable, and pattern-like way) I might type it up and put it on here. I think I will have to make a couple more before I have it that precise though...

Anyway, here it be, in all its glorious beauty;

(this is G.I Jaimie, if you care. Normally this monkey serves as a rack for my tie and my fedora, but today she started a modeling career...)

Now, I dare you to accuse me and my hobbies of being "grandmotherly" (apparently that is what knitting is...? according to some people...). Bring it. But really now, how many awesome hats have you made lately? Grandmotherly or not, I am happy with my past times. I like knitting. I also like grandmothers. And by the way, knitting is an up and coming art form; get in the loop.

Next I am going to attempt making a sweater. And no, it's not dorky or ugly. It's really cool and you (those of you of the female gender who wear sweaters) will be most jealous. I've found the pattern (not too scary, only 2 pages long...but looks are sometimes deceiving), picked out the yarn with the help of my sister T, and now only have to get brave enough to start...

Love at first sight.

I have a new favorite car. (now, those of you out there who do not agree with my love of boxy, big, beastly cars, you might want to stop reading....)

I was driving around today running some errands and across the street from my favorite Starbucks was this fantastic looking orange car! I had never seen its like before. After much straining to see what it was, my sister and I gave up trying to figure it out and left for another stop on our list. About a hour later we come out to our car and a couple spaces away is the very same orange beast of a vehicle.

A DODGE NITRO.

http://http//www.dodge.com/en/2010/nitro/

Now, what I currently drive is a 1999 Dodge Durango (was a family car, family got too big, I got a license and now it's "my" car....yeah, you know how that goes. Not really mine, but I like to think it is...) Cars that I currently love are the Scion xB and maybe a Honda Element. (Although I have a strange attraction to Dodge Chargers-also beastly-and at the opposite end of the spectrum, I would definitely take a Viper if one was offered to me)

I just LOVE big, wide, rectangular, box-like cars. I don't really know why, I just know that I do. (Although, I have had my friends threaten to never drive with me again if I get something that large and boxilicious...thankfully I am not getting one anytime soon) I just don't like driving in smaller cars, I feel all claustrophobic inside of them, which might have stemmed from the fact that I learned how to drive on my family's Suburban (which is kind of like driving a military vehicle). I love "my" (again, loose usage) green Durango, with Hungarian flag bumper sticker, coconut bay air freshener, and Calico Jack pirate flag in the window. (and if you care, his name is Tortuga. Originally named Anna-something-something-oo -a Greek name- by my mom, meaning something about being filled. Well, it was filled and it needed a rename. And now its name is Turtle en espanol. We name everything in my family...)

Somehow that monster becomes me...

I think I am doomed forever to drive some massive SUV; I am a pretty small person, but there is just something about me that doesn't fit in anything less that huge.

But, back to my Nitro. The thing is AWESOME. But like I said, not getting any other car anytime in my near future....I don't exactly have $22,335 to drop anyway. I just thought I'd share. If anyone wants to buy me one that'd be great!

MY PHOTOSHOP LIVESSSSS!!!

Okay, backstory for this shenanigans....

I once had Photoshop Elements on my family computer, but when I got my own computer for graduation and put it in my room we couldn't find the disk to transfer Elements from their computer to mine...
Months went by...
In the meantime I tried to satsify my lack with Picnik, but I am sorry, it is just NOT the same!
But at last the disk was found and has been loaded successfully onto my very own computer!


AND NOW I FINALLY HAVE PHOTOSHOP AGAIN!


Usually I don't do too much important stuff on there; sometimes I resize, crop or truly edit and improve stuff, but I mostly like to fool around, turn things weird colors, switch peoples heads around, etc...

So in celebration of having that ability back in my powers, I turned a bunch of Bronx Zoo Zebras (a random picture from a trip we took back in June) peculiar colors, gave one a thought bubble (he sounds strangely like my little brothers...), and made them glow. Why not?

And yes. I know that I am ridiculous and that there is absolutely no point to making zebras glow. But I can, so I did. Life is short, you might as well make some rainbow zebras while you can. And this blog needed a little bit of shenanigans. The end.

The Adventures of Emikel and Jro...

-CHAPTER 1-

(I have concluded that you can probably only take Emily and I in small increments....so, for your safety and well being, we will take this story one picture at a time)



Goodwill, August of 2006. I think this might be the first photo we have of Em and I doing something abnormal. It was also the first of many days that we have spent trying on the most bizarre things we can find in a store (this is a favorite past time of ours...) Fear not, neither of these lovely items can home with us that day...

Quote-ables.

• "FAITH: Sees the invisible. Believes the incredible. Receives the impossible"
  

I tried to find where this definition of faith had come from, but I have come up answerless (google doesn't really know everything.) I had originally read it somewhere and wrote it on an obnoxiously tennis ball yellow post-it sticky note and stuck it on my desk. It's glaring at me, right now, sitting there in between 2 hotel room cards(one from the Holiday Inn in San Jose, Costa Rica, the other from the Ritz Carlton, in Miami). I look at it EVERYDAY, it serves as a reminder that in eighteen short years I have in fact seen what normal defines as impossible. I have watched the incredible happen. So much so that it won't fit in a simply blog post. And to clarify none of it has been any doing of my own skill or awesomeness. People have a hard time wrapping their minds around it...

• "...INCONCEIVABLE!"- Vessini
• "You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means."- Inigo Montoya (from The Princess Bride, one of my favorite movies.)
  
  

Life with out faith [in God] is empty. Hopeless. And dull; you never experience anything bigger than yourself. Life with faith in Him is everything but...

Faith is being crazy enough to truly believe that God is who He says He is. "Faith is like jumping off a cliff and being fully convinced that you won't hit the bottom." - that's my personal paraphrase.

Faith never looks at the circumstances. Sometimes (or always...) faith looks a little like insanity, sometimes (or always...)is just doesn't make sense. That's the point! It's not the faith that gets it done; it's the realization that you cannot get it done in and of yourself. Only God can. Faith is relying on the fact that God's strength is going to make up for your weakness.

• "If you want to do great things it's going to take great risks. And great faith."- Pastor Eric Peoples ("Rev")
  

Yup. There you have it. That, by the way, is a quote from my absolutely phenomenal youth pastor (go to http://www.mergeahead.com/ and check out the podcasts!). A while back my youth group, Merge Ahead, spent 3 months talking about Great Faith; I could do an entire post just what I learned then!

• "...and faith will bring the way to the impossible." - A Little More (on album Collide, by my favorite band Skillet)

The Bible offers lots of examples of faith. Of course there is Hebrews 11, which is sometimes called "The Faith Hall of Fame," but my favorite faith passage comes from the book of Daniel, chapter three. Hananiah, Mishael and Azariah (better known as Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego) are facing a death sentence at the edge of a furnace, looking into the flames and telling King Nebuchadnezzar that they aren't going to change their minds about worshiping his idol.

"Your threat means nothing to us. If you throw us into the fire, the God we serve can rescue us from your roaring furnace and anything else you can cook up, O King." -Daniel 3:16-17, the Message

They looked at those flames, thought of their God, and said "BRING IT ON." Story summary: God comes through and they walk out of that furnace whole, and not even smelling smokey. Obviously that does not make sense!

People talk about taking a "leap of faith," but truly faith happens one step at a time. It's not some one time decision, it's a daily choice; are you going to look at those flames of your circumstances, or are you going to trust that God is bigger than those flames?

If you are afraid to take that step, then just do it afraid. I've decided life is too short to sit around doing nothing when all of Heaven has got my back.