It's been a while. Again.

I keep starting drafts here and leaving them to languish. I feel like sometimes my thoughts go stale-- I feel less passionate about what I was writing about, or find something new to focus on-- and then it seems dishonest to post about them as if I still believed what I was saying. I'm going to try keeping things short, simple and regular-- if I visit both blogs every day, I can try to keep things moving off the cutting board fast enough to still be relevant when I post them.

As proof that I mean it, I'm going to post this right now. Here's hoping the next one will be longer and more scintillating.

New things

I'm home again, for the month of November, and considering my options.

I had almost decided to start graduate school. I'd even aspired to a voice Master's from UNC Greensboro. It's supposed to be a very competitive school, but I thought that the competition might motivate me to try harder.

Then I had a voice lesson. My confidence deflated like a balloon. It's amazing how much you can forget in four years away from singing! The slump passed quickly, but it was too late: I'd already let the doubt in.

I love to sing, and I never want to stop, but I'm pretty sure now that voice is not the ideal career path for me. To succeed in the performing arts, you must be absolutely positive about what you are doing. There is no room for self-doubt, and you must be 100% committed. I've tried to take it that seriously, but in truth I've never been that resolved.

The problem is that my real ambition-- and I know, I've waffled a lot on this blog, but this is the real one-- was always to be an author. Not a writer. An author. If you'd asked me at age five or six what I wanted to be, that's what I would have told you. If you'd asked me at age seven, eight or nine, I would have said the same thing. It wasn't until I hit middle school, and started hearing about how hard it was to succeed as a writer, that my career ambitions started to waver.

I once heard that the job you dream of at age six is usually the best one for you. I'm sure that in most cases, that's not true-- "fairy-princess-ballerina" comes to mind. However, I have always wanted to write. I've littered my life with notebooks half-full of stories I never had the steam to finish-- and they're fascinating stories. I find them and want to keep reading, even though the ideas were eaten by moths a long time ago.

I've never given up on this. I've let my music slide-- I've let my languages slide-- I've let everything else slide, but I've always had a story going. I guess this should have been a sign to me.

I knew, though, that it was hard to make a living as a writer. Anyone you ask will tell you that. I've always tried to have some solid career trajectory in mind to keep my loved ones from worrying. "Oh... I'm going to be a teacher. I think I could be a pretty good teacher." "Maybe I'll be a nurse. Do you like being a nurse?" "Urban planning. It should be fun, and it's compatible with my talents..." My most recent scheme was to come home and become a wedding singer.

I still might do some of that, if life works out that way. I love to sing. I love weddings. I love to dress up and be fancy.

I just don't think I can make my life out of it.

Right now I'm thinking seriously about taking a CELTA course after my current contract is up, and using it to find a job somewhere new and interesting. I don't want the best job, or the most prestigious job, or the most glamorous job. I want a solid, reliable, low-stress job, where I can get all my work done and have plenty of time left over to write. ESL jobs are great in this respect-- and have the added advantage of taking you to exciting new places. I don't have to find A Perfect Thing; I just need to find A Thing That Works For Now.

I was talking to a friend about this yesterday, and she pretty much got it.

"All of this," I said, "is pretty much a way to bide my time until I start finishing and publishing books."

"But you no longer feel guilty about this."

"No."

And that seems to be the crux of the matter. I no longer feel guilty about devoting myself to the one kind of work I have always known I could do.

I've set up a writing blog to document my progress, and am using National Novel Writing Month as a way to kick-start a new project. It's not easy: I've finally, finally realized that serious writing is hard work.

But I'm up for it.

Two things

I loved the movie version of The Half-Blood Prince. I would have liked it even better without Ginny Weasley sticking her freckled nose into every available scene.

I never really took issue with Ginny in the books-- the way the romance developed, sure, but not the romance itself. In this movie, though, I felt like her presence was kind of a distraction from the real story. (Also: did anyone else see her fighting with Dean Thomas before Hermione mentioned it at the party? Anyone? They looked pretty happy at The Leaky Cauldron to me.) Don't get me wrong-- Bonnie Wright was great as Ginny. I just thought there was too much of her.

Tom Feldon and Rupert Grint were great. I could have watched Draco Malfoy forever, and Ron was vastly entertaining. Snape and Dumbledore were, of course, great as well-- hell, I liked pretty much everybody.

I loved the direction, by and large. There were a lot of really beautiful scenes. I should watch the movie again so I can gush appropriately about my favorite parts-- as of now, there are too many to choose from! There were some heavy cuts, and some odd decisions on story development (I am thinking mostly of the one that involved a field and a sudden fire), but that's all to be expected in this kind of movie.

I want the last movie, NOW.

-~-

I've been reading about Iran, and thus (a little bit) about Shia Islam. (The book is Persian Mirrors, by Elaine Sciolino. I've had it on my shelf for a long time and am really enjoying it now.)

The author doesn't go very deep into doctrine (or hasn't in what I've read so far). What caught my attention was her mention of the story of the 12th Imam. Apparently this is a messianic figure who's supposed to have disappeared as a child at the end of the 9th Century. In Shia Islam, it's apparently believed that he will come back towards the end of the world and... well, Wikipedia says "bring justice and peace to the world by establishing Islam throughout the world," so we'll go with that. This second coming of the 12th Imam, of course, sounds a lot like the second coming of Christ, which in turn bears certain resemblances to the second coming of King Arthur. I know there have got to be others out too-- it would be interesting to look for them. (I just did a Google search for "second coming" and got mostly articles on the Yeats poem, which is pretty fabulous. I like that poem...)

Humans seem to be pretty fond of these legends-- the hero who will come and fight the final battle for us, and lead the righteous into a new era of peace and joy. Actually, Harry Potter (to tie these threads together) is a pretty good example. Child messiah rids the world of evil once, receives appropriately grandiose title ("The Boy Who Lived!"), and vanishes from the (wizarding) world (with the help of Dumbledore, who is absolutely a God metaphor). Ten years later, when evil once more rears its head, the Child Messiah comes again, battles evil, and prevails-- ushering in a new peace that lasts for at least 19 years. Someone could write a dissertation on Harry Potter as Unintentional Biblical Allegory-- but the dissertation could just as easily be about Harry Potter as Archetypical Messiah, or something related. These are just things that we think about-- we like for good to triumph over evil, and we want to know that someone will come take over for us when things get tough.

The problem with these legends, of course, is that they are legends. We have no way of knowing whether they're true or not. Sure, someone might show up in the nick of time, just as the world is about to end, and fix everything with his magical powers-- but the best thing to do is to work on improving the world ourselves. If King Arthur does decide to come back, it can be an unexpected bonus.

(I have the sudden strong urge to go and read The Dark Is Rising. Wish I'd followed the earlier urge to buy it.)