27 July 2009

Time + you + them = friendship

I'm going to Texas in 18 days, and I'm meeting one of my best friends face-to-face for the first time, and that is why I'm thinking about friendship.

Obviously, friendship does not require meeting face-to-face, though that's often helpful. It doesn't require money. It doesn't require work, in a material sense. Friendship requires TIME. Yes, read it, capital letters, TIME. Time spent doing nothing or something, talking or not. If you see each other's statuses on facebook once in a while and happen to coincide at events every so often, that's not friendship. Friendship is taking the time to care about someone else's life.

It works both ways, too. It's very difficult to maintain a friendship when just one person is always saying 'How are you?' and 'What's up?' and 'Let's get together'. It's a two-way street, and maintaining a friendship by yourself gets really old really fast. There IS no better way to let someone know you care about them than to say, "Hey, let's get together." Money is one thing. Money is a renewable resource. But you lose time with every second that passes, and time is finite. Let someone know that you want to spend some of your finite seconds with them or talking to them or hearing about their life.

That's why I can be so close to someone half a continent away from me.

Time.

19 July 2009

I'm going to Texas?

If you had told me, in the winter of 2006/2007 that on August 14, 2009--the day after I turn 18--I would fly to Texas to visit pirateoftherings, I would have said, "pirateoftherings? That one in the At World's End thread with all the spoilers?" and then I would have laughed.

Actually, it's mostly her fault.

In February of 2007, I started the fantasy RPG Phantom Grey. Its beginnings were inauspicious. I got the idea from the grey paint color of my uncle's new car. I wrote a cool little intro about a mysterious rebel dude who called himself Phantom Grey--Robin-Hood-esque--and left it entirely open for people to join with their own characters.

Sometime toward the end of February, potr messaged me on MSN about Phantom Grey. She wanted to join, but she wasn't sure about a character, so I offered her the role of the character who, at that point, was the princess-in-hiding. Later, her other character, Kjan, was born. Kjan is a very singular character who lives on in fame, not least for the phrase, "This could be minorly problematic." He became the Phantom's second-in-command, and we started off with a bang.

After that conversation about Phantom, I don't think there was ever an instance where both potr and I were online in which we DIDN'T talk. Or, more correctly, in which she didn't accost me (not to say I objected). At first I think it was mostly about the RPG, but we discussed other things; we learned that we were both Christians, talked about our families, got to know each other a little better. It became a daily thing. Every evening we'd go, "So when will I see you tomorrow?"

I think it was May of 2007 when she had to go on a missions trip and wouldn't have internet access for a week. She asked if she could call instead. Melda's reaction: "Whoa talk to someone I know on the internet ON THE PHONE? WEIRD. I'll ask my mom..." We had a few phone conversations that week, which made me hyper, and continued to talk on MSN every day and occasionally call, skype, and more recently webcam. That's been going on for two and a half years now.

I have referred to 'my friend Jamie from Texas' with increasing frequency in conversation with people I know, over these last two and a half years, to the point where they still think it's odd that I'm so close to someone I've never met in the flesh, but they're good with it otherwise. As long as she's not a creepy stalker. I feel no hesitation in saying that my potr is one of my best friends. My mom thinks that if needed, she could impersonate me--the quote "You'll always be my friend--you know too much' applies. Our daily conversations have become such a staple that I occasionally refer to them as 'my potr fix' in a similar vein as 'my caffeine fix'. My mom often asks, "Are you talking to Jamie?" when I'm sitting with my laptop, and when I respond in the affirmative, she says, "I thought so. You always smile like that when you're talking to her."

As of recently, we've embarked on co-writing a novel together. It'll be called Phantom Grey, and we started it after the RPG finally died. Mostly, though, we just talk.

Melda says: (4:58:22 PM) I'm just basically disgusted with this weather
Melda says: (4:58:27 PM) I actually want to come down there :P
pirateoftherings says: (4:58:35 PM) hehe
pirateoftherings says: (4:58:37 PM) please do?
...
pirateoftherings says: (5:07:39 PM) roundtrip to DFW is only 581 Canadian dollars (A)
Melda says: (5:07:49 PM) lol
Melda says: (5:08:02 PM) pretty good price all told
pirateoftherings says: (5:08:22 PM) melda should do it
...
pirateoftherings says: (9:51:13 PM) who is melda visiting in August?
Melda says: (9:51:17 PM) wait
pirateoftherings says: (9:51:21 PM) (you're on a roll, don't break it)
Melda says: (9:51:49 PM):P
Melda says: (9:53:50 PM) melda was actually considering it
pirateoftherings says: (9:54:10 PM) she should
...
Melda says: (10:00:37 PM) well, I guess I could work library stuff out
pirateoftherings says: (10:00:58 PM) you could
pirateoftherings says: (10:01:15 PM) i have to look at my schedule too :P
pirateoftherings says: (10:01:19 PM) but at least consider
Melda says: (10:01:47 PM)yeah
Melda says: (10:01:53 PM)no idea what my parents will think :P
pirateoftherings says: (10:02:09 PM) "Hai I'm gonna go see potr for a weekend k'bai."

Yesterday:
Melda says: (4:50:47 PM) melda officially has bought tickets
pirateoftherings says: (4:56:10 PM) (aiee)
pirateoftherings says: (4:56:27 PM) :D
Melda says: (4:56:32 PM) okay, so
Melda says: (4:56:38 PM) flying with Delta
Melda says: (4:57:02 PM) leaving Edmonton at 8:00 am with a layover in Minneapolis, arriving in Dallas at 5:18 pm
pirateoftherings says: (4:57:11 PM) uh-huh
pirateoftherings says: (4:57:27 PM) feasible
pirateoftherings says: (4:57:31 PM) what's on the 18th?
Melda says: (4:57:59 PM) leaving Dallas at 5:45 with a layover in Minneapolis (again) and arriving in Edmonton at 11:31 pm

Yep. I'm going to Texas.

13 July 2009

Of Adverbs

I am officially writing this post because I'm putting off working on my summer project - Summer Novel Writing Month (SuNoWriMo). Now you know.

Adverb - a word or phrase that modifies or qualifies an adjective, verb, or other adverb or a word-group, expressing a relation of place, time, circumstance, manner, cause, degree, etc. (e.g., gently, quite, then, there).

In creative writing, adverbs are often condemned as telling, not showing, and being a lazy way of communicating what you could better describe and give the reader a more vivid mental picture. I agree, in principle. Showing is better than telling. Can you imagine, though, if EVERYTHING were shown? If there were a scene in which the characters have to somehow manage exposition of everything going on around them? That would get really, really old. Sometimes, you just have to say Jane was angry instead of getting into Jane crinkled her brow and glared from beneath it, crossing her arms and stomping a foot at the boys who had been irritating her.

If I may quote the pirate of the rings on this...what is the purpose of a novel except to TELL a story?

Okay, fine, I'm going now. I'm opening Microsoft Word. Really.

04 July 2009

Playing God

http://www.nationalpost.com/news/canada/story.html?id=1758391

The first thing I thought of when I read this was the movie I, Robot, about a robot who, among legions of automaton brethren, has the unique capacity to love and the ability to thwart a plot by the other robots to basically take over the world. The other robots do it because they look at what the humans have done to themselves and to each other and they conclude that humans aren't capable of managing the world themselves.

Nice thought, a robot with a heart. But really - as if.

Humans have spent thousands of years discovering ourselves, mentally and biologically. Even now, we can't explain some of the processes that go on inside us, because they are so incredibly intricate. I think this is even more pronounced with the brain - at the heart of it, we don't know how it works. If we disregard the supernatural, we don't know why we are the way we are, or how we got that way. We don't understand the soul, emotions, the way we think.

But we think we can recreate it?

Have fun with that one.

03 July 2009

A Squabbling

Recently I joined a Christian teen writers' forum called Cleanplace (Joy will know the one) that has weekly challenges called Squabblings. This week, it was to write a 500-800 short story with the first line 'Some days it feels like the universe is conspiring against you, and some days, it really is' in 20 minutes. This isn't posted on Cleanplace yet because I'm waiting to make sure my slight edit of the first line is okay, but I rather liked it (for something written in 20 minutes), so for your reading pleasure...

---

“Some days it feels like the universe is conspiring against you,” said Captain Robert Harlem, “and some days, it really is.” He thumped his fist on the control panel to emphasize the last two words. “Look at that bugger. Now I’m going to have to go out and pry him off.”

His apprentice, Lana Mulgrave, scooted over to grab the controls. She winced at the metallic crunching noises the creature attached to their hull was making. “Let me guess. This is why we don’t take shortcuts through asteroid belts.”

“Because roidlets will attach themselves to our hull? Very good,” said Robert, fumbling his suit from its cupboard.

“I’ll add it to my lexicon.”

A particularly painful – painful to Robert’s ears – crunch crackled loudly, and he glanced through their quartz windshield. “Egad, that thing is persistent. Keep me informed, Lana. I don’t want anything biting my head off while I’m getting rid of it.”

“Will do, Captain.”

Robert snatched a crowbar and a hammer before jamming his helmet on and activating his radio. He spun the handle of the airlock, slipping out and swiftly closing it again.

Outside, the stars were as bright as ever, but they were screened by every space captain’s bane – the asteroid belt. Robert scurried along the handholds of the Firefly’s hull, and heard his radio crackle to life. “All clear, Lana?”

“Roger that, Captain.”

He was nearing the parasitic roidlet, which was happily crunching away at metal, and he hefted crowbar and hammer. Beady eyes looked balefully up at him but the creature did not release its hold on the hull for an instant. Robert imagined the mouthful of teeth grinding into his pride and joy and groaned.

“He’s a nasty one, isn’t he?” Lana sounded impressed.

Robert squinted at her through the windshield. “Roger that, apprentice, and keep your eyes ahead of you.”

The near-spherical roidlet was almost embedded in his hull already. Robert jammed the crowbar between rock and metal and banged at it with the hammer. He felt the roidlet loosen almost immediately. A few more enthusiastic swings had it free, and with one snap of razor-sharp teeth – those things had jaws that opened over a hundred and eighty degrees wide – it floated off.

“That could have been much more painful. I’m coming back in, Lana.”

“Um – nope – Captain, space snake at five o’clock. Your five o’clock!”

Robert whipped around.

The gaze of the space snake paralyzed him momentarily. He muttered an expletive.

“Captain,” said Lana reproachfully over the radio.

“I know, I know! Activate stun baton!”

It crackled on his belt and Robert snatched the weapon from its casing. The serpent wound lazily closer.

“For reference, Lana,” he said into the radio, “this is why you always perform a weapons check before venturing outside your space vehicle.”

“I’ll add it to my lexicon.”

The snake struck, nearly snagging Robert’s arm between its long fangs. He winced and lashed out with the stun baton. The snake spasmed, whipping its long body around so that Robert was forced to huddle against the Firefly. He whacked it once more for good measure, and turned around posthaste to get back inside the ship.

Once there, he tugged off his suit and ran fingers through his hair. “Could have been a lot worse, that one. We still on course?”

“Yep,” said Lana from her perch at the control panel. She was gazing fixedly out the windshield.

When Robert slid into place beside her, he noted her white-knuckled grip on the controls. “What’s up?

“Captain,” she said, “did anyone ever teach you to be very nice to a baby bear, because mama bear won’t be too far away?” She pointed out the windshield.

Robert looked.

A hulking roidlet of astronomical proportions was drifting toward them, menacing gaze fixed on the Firefly, tiny roidlets floating in her wake. Robert noticed that one had bits of metal hull stuck in its teeth.

He groaned. Then, grimly: “I’ll add it to my lexicon.”