The Groves

The Groves

Friday, April 29, 2016

Nostalgia?

So randomly out of the blue I decided to go back and read some of my OLD blog posts... like, from when I blogged obsessively my sophomore and junior years of college. I won't link it here because it's vaguely embarrassing, but man, I blogged SO MUCH! Where did all of those emotions go?? (Oh yeah, they sort of disappeared when I assimilated with the Vulcan.) It's been really interesting to read those posts and see what I was focused on (boys... shocker) and what I thought about.
I blogged a lot, literally almost daily, but that was back before I had a smart phone so my blog was how I shared all of my thoughts from the day rather than constantly being on Facebook. Plus now Brady is basically my blog, because instead of blogging about my feelings I just talk to him about them. It also has made me a little sad to see myself back when I still worked at a barn (I got to be with horses almost every day, it was heaven) and how not-so-secretly determined I was to not be single anymore.
It's made me glad that I've become less focused on myself and more focused on the world and other people around me (and I actually have like, REAL political opinions now... though they probably make my mother want to die of embarrassment on the daily, hahaha. Love you mom! Thanks for still loving me even though I'm a crazy flaming liberal!), and that I'm forging my own path for myself. It's made me really glad that I've finally been able to conquer (though admittedly not completely) my depression- it's been kind of rough and sad to see what an underlying current of it there is in so many of my posts.
And, I'll admit, it has made me glad that I snagged such a great husband, even if nowadays I wish I would've appreciated being single a little more fully. And I kind of wish I HAD done that riding working vacation in South Africa... That's honestly my biggest regret, and reading through my blog is just reminding me of it. I really regret that I was SO FOCUSED on college that I didn't realize that it was killing me until it was too late.
I often wonder, especially seeing some of the opportunities that I let pass me by, how things would have been different if I'd taken any of the numerous breaks I thought about taken. Especially when I got suspended. (Yeah. That happened. I don't lie when I say college was REALLY HARD for me. I had two choices, to either take a year off or take one semester to get my grades back up and THEN be forced to take a year off... I should've taken the year off and gone to South Africa to ride horses. But I'd already met Brady at that point and was worried he'd ditch me for someone hotter if I'd left him.) Oh well, It's been really good to remember all of those things, and it's really shown me how important it is to journal.
I'm going to see if there's a way I can export all of my posts from that blog into a physical journal. Even though by the time I have children old enough to feel any sense of relevancy to the content it will be crazy out of date, I want them to be able to read it and believe me when I tell them that I wish I could've done things differently. Just say, "you may not believe me that I ever experienced anything like what you are, and it's true that many years have colored my remembrance of that time in my life, but these are unaltered, directly from me, unfiltered. I've been there, love." And maybe, just maybe, I can help them forge a better path for themselves than I did.

Monday, April 25, 2016

Writer Writes Writings

So, once upon a time, as a wee young lass of 7, I wrote a story about 'Axy the Puppy.' Why I thought Axy was a good name for a puppy, I'm honestly not sure. But anyway, my story about Axy (which was also illustrated by me) included a few ridiculous things like hunting in Yellowstone, yeah right, and puppies being born totally able to run around and walk and stuff. Which is weird, because I've seen 101 Dalmatians about a thousand times. It was my 'Frozen.' (Sorry mom. At least there wasn't singing.) It was pretty silly, but it started me along the path of writing. I wrote a lot. I wrote several stories about my teddy bear Cuddles and her best friend Simba (who belonged to MY best friend Kacee), and eventually started writing about Paul Ivan, the Keeper of the Unicorns.
Nowadays when I look back on Paul Ivan I just shake my head. It was pretty ridiculous. I think it had started out as kind of Harry Potter fan fiction, but really was more of 'Into the Land of the Unicorns' fan fiction. I entered it into our valley's 'Young Writer's Festival' and got some reasonable praise, but they were probably just going easy on me considering I was 11. But throughout my life, the world I created with Paul Ivan (the world of Sevahndia and its surrounding lands) has never really left my consciousness. It's my Arda, my Nirn, my Narnia. It just won't go away.
So, after over a decade of pretending like Paul Ivan never happened, I've decided to revisit Sevahndia. It's a totally different story, and Paul Ivan doesn't really exist. The analog for Paul is now a character named Elldrin Tannivh, and he's definitely not the Keeper of the Unicorns (though there are unicorns, and they're badass).
Every budding 'novelist' (okay, I refuse to call myself that, I write things... so I'm a writer?) has a different way of managing their work in its early stages. Some people like to put their work on things like Fictionpress and let strangers all over the world critique it. Some people won't let a soul read their work until they feel like it's finished. I personally fall somewhere in the middle-ish. I like feedback, but initially I prefer to receive it from people who know me and won't be SUPER harsh.
And so, since I know there are maybe three people on the entire planet who read this blog... I'll give you the introduction to [CURRENTLY UNTITLED SEVAHNDIA NOVEL]. I'd like your feedback (try to be sort of nice, at least), and if you want to read more, well, let me know. There's plenty of it.

_


INTRODUCTION


A thick fog drifted lazily across the cliffs overlooking the ocean, blanketing the sounds of the waves crashing on the rocks below. Even the gulls seemed silent, as if they held their breath, waiting.
All at once, thundering of hooves crashed through the muffled air, exploding through the mist as if they had appeared out of nowhere.
Vestel Helewis was not accustomed to being followed.
She turned in her saddle, reaching her open left hand towards the shimmering portal behind her, and snapped her fingers closed into a tight fist. The portal zapped shut, and Vestel’s horse skidded to a stop near the edge of the bluffs. Sweating and breathing heavily from the effort of not only closing the portal, but opening it at all, she leaned down to pat her black mare. The horse, also breathing heavily, shook her head, exhaling deeply from her nose.
“Well done, love,” Vestel cooed softly. “We’re nearly there.” She turned her gaze southward, to 'there'- a slender watchtower that snaked upward from the cliffs, surrounded by a small wall. Ethen Shrall, it was called, and it was one of the few places in Sevahndia from which other lands- other worlds- could be contacted.
It was here that the scroll Vestel carried was to be delivered.

Nil Bouran sat atop the wall overlooking the ocean, head against the stone behind him and eyes glazed over with boredom. This has to be the worst assignment I could have ever imagined… bird duty, he thought, clenching his teeth and sighing. Then he felt the faint ripple of magic to his left, and stood, his stool clattering over in his haste. Rushing to the wall and staring in the direction of the ripple, he saw it- there, atop the bluff, a large black warhorse burst through a gleaming portal at full speed.
Shit, he thought. This cannot be good. He shook his head, attempting to clear the grogginess from his eyes, but when he refocused his attention on the bluff, the portal was gone and only the horse remained. Its rider sat tall and alert- an even worse sign. For a person to be anything but slumped in the saddle after magic that taxing could only mean that their visitor was a mage powerful beyond any but the Master of Ethen Shrall, and it was unlikely this visitor was friendly. Inhaling heavily, Nil turned on his heel and ran towards the thick stone door separating the wall from the tower itself. This was something the Master would need to be informed of immediately.


Vestel’s eyes narrowed as she watched the guard hurry towards the tower. Opening the portal was bound to draw attention to her, but she hadn’t expected her arrival to be met with the reaction she appeared to have received from the guard, if his body language was any indication. She wheeled her horse to the south and began picking her way along the bluff towards the tower, mustering her inner strength. Opening and closing the portal had sapped her energy, and might make it difficult to summon the magic she needed to give the sign to the Master of Ethen Shrall.
Walk to the gate and stop ten paces away with open palms filled with flames. One blue for the Sign of the Record Keeper, the other green for the Sigil of Sevahndia. Speak freely only to the Master. The instructions had seemed simple enough when they were given to her, but the unforeseen matter of the Raisch had greatly complicated things.


The Raisch. What an incredible nightmare. Vestel was still reeling from dread at their appearance, and shock that she had managed to elude them. The hillmen had never come so far out of their territory before, that she knew of, and these four had been unnaturally fast. She had heard rumors that they had made pacts with the Dark Elves to breed offspring swifter than steeds, but she had dismissed them- until now. The Lord Commander would not be pleased to hear of this, especially when Vestel’s route had been so carefully planned to avoid their territory by a great distance. A knot of foreboding formed in Vestel’s stomach. What if these offspring had gained other traits from their progenitors, like magic? What if they could follow her, here of all places?

Vestel shook her head. She couldn’t think such things, now of all times, as Ethen Shrall loomed ever nearer. Now, when her people so desperately needed her to deliver this message to worlds throughout the Connection. The message that it was finally time for the Warden to return to Sevahndia, and reclaim his homeland.

Friday, April 15, 2016

Friday Musings

Man. Another ski season comes to a close and I'm sitting here feeling simultaneously incredibly sad and incredibly stoked. I love summer. I love everything about summer (yes, even being so hot I want to die). I've been trying to convince Brady to let me get a membership to the pool at Liberty Park so I can just lay around like a slug and get super tan all summer. (But seriously, he usually works two hours earlier than I do so I'm like, 'hey, I'll drive you to work, then go to the pool for an hour, then park at CenturyLink and walk to Salomon' I mean, they have showers at the pool. Then I could be like, fresh and clean every day at work and sell way more stuff... right?)
Anyway. I'm super sad because I do love Alta. Even though I've kind of grown weary of the commute 4 times a week (as I always do at the end of the season) and I've absolutely grown weary of waking up early, I love this canyon and I love these mountains and it feels weird to imagine going back to my life without Alta. And I'll admittedly miss the money, though I'll be working more at Salomon to make up for it.
But I'm super stoked for summer and I'm obviously super stoked for my birthday trip. I've been spending most of my free time lately planning all of the best things to do and the best ways to save money at Disneyland (which... guh. Those tickets are more than our freaking airfare. Absurd) but not starve to death. You know, the important things in life. I've also been planning my outfits (yeah, I am secretly one of those girls) and trying to figure out what to pack and trying to decide if I want to bring my wetsuit (probably yes because it's not freaking Hawaii and I want to play in the ocean for hours on end).
Mostly, though, I'm just getting absurdly excited for CHANNEL ISLANDS, BABY. I guess it's not really my first time going to a new park, I mean, since Brady and I started dating we've actually almost been to more 'new' parks than not. We've been to 12 together, and 6 of them were parks I'd never been to! But I'm pretty excited about this park, because the whole "get on a ferry that takes you to an island in the ocean and you have no cars and everything you have you brought in on your back" thing is pretty exciting for me. I've been planning like a fiend and deciding which hikes we should do and how we should spend our days. And, come on, THIS IS OUR CAMPSITE.


I'm excited for Disneyland too, but I'm significantly less excited because of the ridiculous price tag. Oh well. It will be worth it in the end!