Nothing to say

There's something to be said about having nothing to say. I know, that's an oxymoron. Honestly though sometimes when people just have nothing to say, constructive or otherwise about their own lives it irks the crap out of me. This day, in particular someone close to me frustrated me to the gills simply by virtue of total inaction. In a lot of ways I am a bit of an over achiever. I work my ass off at school, writing, coaching and my most important job; being a mom to my eight-year-old daughter. I do all this so I can forge a better life for my child. So, suffice to say, when someone else is a consummate slacker in life - I cannot relate. Even if we are related. Which we are.

Anyway, now that I have vented I can move on to more interesting topics like writing.

Here goes:

It's been a good month. I've completed two rather lengthly feature articles. One explores what life is like after five years and after all the ceremonies for a 9-11 first responder to the World Trade Center. I was fortunate enough to interview several police officers who worked the disaster and focused on one, who not only was there but was injured when the first Tower collapsed. He continued to work, even though injured, and barely escaped the second Tower's collapse - which still did not stop him. He pushed on, rescuing as many as he could and worked every aspect of the recovery.

The second article is totally different, but interesting. I stumbled across a website that lists dead MySpace members, links to news articles about the circumstances of their deaths and also links to their MySpace page. Although morbid, the website MyDeathSpace.com is quite unique.

Both features are in the submission process to local newspapers. After that I will query them to magazines. Eventually, I will post them here.

In other writing:

I am in the middle of two manuscripts of speculative fiction. One is very near completion. The other is not as far along, but the narrative is promising. I'm at the point with school that if I get a few hundred words a day written on either manuscript, it has been a good day.

I also completed three papers this week. Two were research and the the third was a bit more fun. I got to write about propaganda and how it has effected me on a personal level. Pretty cool as far as assignments go. We'll see if the grade reflects my enthusiasm for the project.

Readings:

Well, I am NEVER done reading. EVER. I am an English major and my emphasis of study is Writing and Rhetoric. But I am also pursuing a minor in Communications. Basically what that boils down to is the fact that if I'm not writing, I'm reading. This week I am reading Of Grammatology by Jacques Derrida, The Mill on the Floss by George Eliot, I'm finishing Jane Austin's persuasion and starting sometime this week on Bram Stoker's Dracula for which I will be writing a research paper in the coming weeks.

Derrida is difficult to say the very least. Eliot's book so far is the most boring narrative I have been forced to choke down this term. I'm holding out hope that it will improve. Jane Austin is at least entertaining. Honestly, the best thing I have to look forward to reading this week is Dracula.

I'm preparing for midterms as well. This will prove a challenge as this week I have one two-hour midterm but next week I have four midterms. Three of which will be three hour tests. More accurately, we will have three hours to complete them. Hopefully I'll have them nailed down in a hour or so.

As I stated in my opening, I work my ass off. It is worth it when you have a vision of what your life can become. If you involve yourself in it. And for those who have nothing to say when asked about their lives or their future plans... well, they could never be a writer. A writer is always writing the next chapter. Always thinking about the next twist, next turn and all the nuances in between. I guess that is all there is to say about having nothing to say.