Technology Kills Us

Literally.

I hear about how people are less active because our societies are so advanced now, how they have unhealthy social lives, how they actually die from technology... it's sad.

Less active people can become obese and obese people can suffer from diabetes and other diseases.  Some that can be fatal.

A lot of us can have unhealthy social lives, too.  Because we might be at the computer every day and only leave to eat and go to the bathroom, we might not come in contact with people.  People need people.  Without them we can become closed up inside ourselves.  We are social creatures.  We need interaction for a healthy life, believe it or not.  To release stress, instead of doing a hobby, apparently it's better to interact with people.

We can also die from technology.  I heard about a boy in... either it was Taiwan or China... who was at an Internet cafe playing a game.  He sat there for forty hours and then dropped dead.  His friends, though they were sitting in next to him separated by walls, didn't notice he was dead until a few hours later when they finished their game.  Crazy, huh?  He was soooooo into the game that he didn't even stop to answer to his body's needs.  I'm guessing his friends did though.

Now when I sit at the computer I'm always afraid all the blood is going to stop flowing in my body if I sit for more than a few hours.

For a long time I have rejected technological advancement.  Like thin-screened TVs or Blue-ray.  Now I see those in my house.  My parents are always up to keeping up with stuff.  I'm more resistant to that.  I mean, do we really, really, really, REALLY, need those stuff?

People have also grown less patient over the years.  Now we want something faster than what we already have.  Do any of you remember what the big bulky computers were like?  Do you remember how slow they were and how that didn't really bother us at all?  Now we get impatient if we have to wait for only a few minutes, no, make that thirty seconds!  It's ridiculous!

Boy what a bunch of irritated, unhealthy, anti-social human beings we have become! Thank you, O' Technology for making us this way! (sarcastic tone)

What a world this is becoming, eh?  I'm really afraid what will happen in ten years' time.  Technology is taking over our lives so quickly...  What will become of us?

"I'm gonna write a book! :D "

Whoa!  Hold your horses!

Do.  You.  Really.  Know.  How.  Hard.  That.  Is?????

No, you don't.  Of course not.  You've never written a single thing in your entire life... and no, essays and reports don't count.

Sometimes these people joke that they'll write a book.  They think it's such an easy thing to do.  As easy as saying "I'm gonna go swimming! :D".  Nope.  It's not that easy.  Take it from me, I've been trying for... 5~6 years now.  The only novel I did actually finish writing, was the one I did for Camp NaNoWriMo.  It's not edited so it's not finished though.

And... and, and, and, I have this novel that I've edited about four or five times.  I've been working on it for over three years now and that's just Book 1 and partially Book 2.  Neither are finished.  I'm planning on having a Book 3, too.  Recently I figured I would have to write a Book 4 for it to all work out in the end.

And well, let's not get into the details about editing, shall we?  Let me tell you this, IT ISN'T EASY TO DO BECAUSE YOU MIGHT HAVE TO GET RID OF PARTS YOU LIKE a.k.a YOUR BABIES.  It's really hard to get rid of those.  But sometimes you gotta let go.

Next comes the publishing deal.  If you ever do finish editing, the next step is finding a publisher.  I often hear about authors who have gotten rejected tons of times.  I'm really afraid to send my draft anywhere yet.  Wanna get it perfected as much as I can first.

Even if they do accept your writing, what if the rest of the editing process doesn't go well and you never get to see your book?  But even if you get your book, what if hardly anyone buys it?

The book world is a tough one.

It's really hard to be good enough like J.R.R Tolkien or J.K. Rowling or Stephen King.

Well, if you do "write a book" and I don't mean like a first draft, I mean a Book.  Capital "B" Book.  You can only call it a Book once its been published and bound together and distributed.  Then, alas, finally, you have written a book.  But until then, all you have are drafts.  Nothing is ever complete, you know that?

The novel I told you about, the one that has Book 1~possibly 4?  I keep editing and editing and editing and editing and editing... never ending editing.  I betcha anything even published successful authors like J.K. Rowling don't feel like their book is perfect.  It's never perfect.  So, well, you have to come to this... stopping point, I guess.  You have to find a place to put your foot down and say, "Okay, it's good enough."

My dream is to see my book at a bookstore and people buying it and enjoying it.  Not much about money and fame.  Sure if it gets it it's a plus but not everything has to be about money and fame.

Those of you out there, wanting to write a book for money and fame, not gonna go so well.  Let me tell you that.  NOT gonna go so well.  You might, just might get money but fame... I'm not sure.  Looks kinda grim.

Well, anyway.  Someday you might see a book written by N. J. Folettia.  Until then, this blog is probably the closest thing.

So you wanna-write-a-book people out there, think about all the responsibilities first.  Sorta like caring for a pet.  Think and then act.  Don't act and then think.  Do it in the write order (pun intended).

This is the sort-of cover for my future book.  Liaffon (Lee-ah-fawn).  The image is taken from the Internet.  What I really want is a glamorous city beyond the hills and the title should be golden embossed letters.

Verbing and Adjectivey, Verby and Adjectiving

Isn't it interesting how you can "verb" things or "adjective" things?

Once I wrote a poem and in it I said, "Trees vultured over the car" only to later find out that "vulture" can't be made into a verb.  But I refused to change it.  I mean, why not?  It happens all the time.

Some of you might know already but "email" didn't use to be a verb.  It was a noun.  But nowadays its common to say "I will email you tomorrow."

So, why not try to verb and adjective lots of other nouns?  It's really fun to do especially if you're into creative writing.  If people know the meaning of the noun, then no doubt they will know what you mean even if it's changed to a verb or adjective.

Today I wrote a small fiction story about waves and ocean.  I said, "The tide pool serpented across the shore."  I don't think "serpent" can be a verb but, here you are!

Maybe we can even say "the serpenty tide pool snaked across the shore."  Can you picture that?  It does make sense doesn't it?

Here are some words I'd like to verb and adjective (oh, the first two!).

1. verb
2. adjective
3. tree
4. table
5. chair
6. river
7. umbrella
8. shoe
9. sloth
10. money

Do you think something could umbrella?  If so, what would it mean?  To open up like an umbrella or to look like one?  What about shoe?  Could something shoe?  Could something be slothy or could it sloth?  Could something money or have moneyness?  How about river?  I bet something could river up the driveway or something like that.

If you come up with a way to do this or some meaning or sentence, comment below! (Yes, yes, I'm too lazy to do it myself.  Yes, yes, I admit it.)

A creative story. Wrote from Inspiration. Enjoy!

Inspired by Nat G Hal Blog  http://nateghalblog.blogspot.com/#!/2013/04/mythical-creature-creative-writing.html

Thank you for the inspiration!!

So, here it is, a creature who lives in something we abandoned and a child finds the creature.
I forgot about the mythical creature part but, oh well. 

And, I'm not happy with the title.  If you have an idea for one, let me know in the comments.

First and Last, Always and Never

The sky was dark and the cold air was biting her legs.  The only warm things were her tears that trickled fresh from her eyes.  It was past dinner and she hoped her parents would come looking for her.  They knew all her hiding places.  But something inside, maybe a child’s intuition, told her they were too busy fussing over her sister.  Her older sister Meggy was tall and slim and almost became a model when she was in junior high.  Loina didn’t really understand about all that then.  She was only eight.  Too busy with braiding her doll’s hair and throwing all her dolls around in her room, squealing with delight when they hit the ceiling.

It was all her sister’s fault for being so perfect.  Loina was chubby around the middle, her hair was a strange brownish blonde, and her feet were too small to hold her big body up.  As she padded up to the forgotten tower she liked to go to cry her eyes dry, she cursed herself.  Meggy was in high school now.  She was sixteen.  Loina was only ten still.  But she knew a few words.  Meggy used them a lot.  Her parents never got mad when she used them.  They only got mad at poor Loina.

Now in the corner of the lowest level of the tower, her favorite spot, Loina sobbed.  Why?  Why didn’t her parents care about her?  Why didn’t they even look at her once?  They didn’t even seem to notice when she basically shouted into their faces that she hated them and was running away.  She wouldn’t really run away though.  She always sulked back before it got too dark.  The monsters of the night really scared her sometimes.  Meggy called her a baby once and Loina ran to Mama.  But Mama didn’t scold Meggy.  Mama told Loina to grow up.  She said,

“You’re a big girl now.  So don’t go crying about monsters, do you hear?”

She heard.  But she didn’t want to listen.

Loina lifted her head from her soggy sleeve of hot tears.  She sniffled and stopped.  What should she do now?  Go home?  No, not yet.  She’ll stay as long as she can.  Maybe Mama and Daddy will come after all.  Maybe they still cared about her?  Even just a little bit?

She never went up to the top of the tower.  She was afraid of the monsters.  “But,” she thought.  “If the monsters do get me, it won’t matter.  Mama and Daddy don’t care about me and Meggy will be happy I’m gone.  I have no friends either anyway.”  So, she climbed the stone stairs.

Each step brought back the adventurousness in her.  Sometimes stone crumbled underneath her feet but she didn’t stop.  Once she went right through a cobweb but she merely brushed it off herself before continuing on.  Half way up she began to puff up the stairs.  Her heavy body became her obstacle.  She knew she needed to get thinner but… Mama and Daddy didn’t care what she ate.  She didn’t care either.

At the top of the stairs she whispered, “I made it!”  The lightning of victory shot through her and she almost squealed out loud.  But something moved in the corner and she clamped her mouth shut and held the sound back with her two spongy hands.

She stared out into the corner, into the top tower that looked out over the town she lived and further off, at the city.  In the corner, right by the window, was a curious light green blob.  Since the tower was slightly darkening, the green blob seemed to glow in the dark.  Or, was it actually glowing?

“H,hello?” Loina called out to the blob.  Though she didn’t know if it could speak she knew it was always polite to start with a greeting.  She’d learned that at school.  Not her Mama.  They never paid attention to their youngest child.

“H,hello,” the blob replied and turned around.  It had eyes like a snail that stuck out from the top of its head.  But its hands were like a person’s hands and it had a mouth like one, too.  But it didn’t have a nose and no feet either.  Loina silently wondered if it could smell very well.

“My… I… um, my name is Loina.  What’s yours?” Loina took a hesitant step forward.

The green blob came forward, too.  It outstretched its blobby hand.  “Kemmy.  I live here.”

Loina smiled and took the hand without hesitation.  It was a friendly gesture that she trusted.

“How long have you lived here?” Loina sat down on the hard rocky floor.  Kemmy came to sit next to her, stretching out his body like a slug so he could bend his middle.

“A long time.  Humans have long forgotten this place.  Abandoned it.  So I took over.  They don’t notice.  I don’t mind,” he looked her up and down.  “I think I can trust you not to tell anyone about my secret place?”

Loina nodded with earnest.  This was her very first friend she wasn’t going to let him down.

“Good,” he nodded.  Did he have a neck?

“Where are you from?” Loina began her bolt of questions like any ten-year old.

“Somewhere,” he said matter-of-factly.

“That’s not a place.”

“Sure it is!  It’s the name of the place.  Somewhere.”

“What’s it like?”

“It’s okay.  But we’re just born out of nowhere and when we get to Somewhere we all feel lost and left out.  We have no friends or family.  Some of us try to make friends with others.  But we’re so different it’s really hard.  Then, like me, some of us leave to find a new place to call home.  A lot of us come to Earth.  It’s so peaceful in lots of places and there’s lots of abandoned places we can make our homes.  Sometimes some people come in but they never find us.  I was surprised when you finally decided to climb the stairs.”

“Why do you glow?”

“Everyone from Somewhere glows.  It’s… kind of our thing.  Like your thing is to sing.”

Loina shook her head.  “No.”

“No, really, you’re really good.  Why don’t you sing for your parents?”

“They don’t listen to me,” she stuck out her bottom lip and sighed.

“Have you tried to get them to listen?” Kemmy turned his eyes so they looked right at her but his body didn’t turn.

“Yeah…”

“No, you haven’t really tried.  You need to really try.  You need to tell them how you really feel.  Not how they want you to feel.”

“You know a lot.”

“Yeah, I’ve been living here for forty years.”

Loina looked at him up and down.  He didn’t look at all old to her.  Kemmy laughed at her expression.  It sounded like a chuckle and a giggle at the same time.

“My days are longer compared to your days, Loina.  For you, I’ve only been here for forty days.  Each day is a year for me.  Goes by really slowly.”

After a pause he added.  “But my memory only lasts for two years.  Then the next year, it starts all over again.  I know this because I’ve been keeping a diary.  I disguise myself as a kid and go buy notebooks at supermarkets and stuff.  The cashiers don’t even look at you when you buy things.  Really convenient.  Today is my last day for another two years of memory.  As we speak, I’m writing the diary with my tail,” he looked behind him.

Loina didn’t notice at first but behind Kemmy stretched a really long tail with tentacles at the end.  It was grasping a pen and jotting down words in a notebook.

“Wow!  You can do that?” Loina watched wide-eyed.

“All of us from Somewhere can.  It’s so we can write down if we wanted to while that thing is happening.”

“Oh,” Loina nodded.  Then she heard a familiar sound.

“Loina!  Where are you?  Loina!”

It was Mama.

“Loina-girl!  It’s past dinner!  Where are you?”

It was Daddy.

Loina stood up to balance herself on her small feet.  “I think I need to go.  Like you said, I’ll tell them.  Like you said, maybe I’ll sing, too.”

Kemmy nodded and smiled.

“Will I see you again?” Loina bent down to hug her new friend.

“Of course.  I’ll always be here,” Kemmy hugged her tight.  His blobby body felt soft and spongy.  He was also chubby around the middle.  For once, Loina didn’t mind her chubby stuff and her spongy stuff.  For once, she didn’t really care.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.  Will you remember me?” Loina asked as she made her way to the stairs.

“I’ll remember you,” Kemmy waved with his blobby green hand.

“Promise?” she said and started down the stairs.  She turned around to see him still sitting there waving at her.

“Promise…” his voice was soft.

“Loina!” came Mama’s voice.  Without a second glance back, Loina hurried down the stairs, her heavy footsteps echoing through the tower.

Mama hugged her close and Loina told her heart out.  They made a deal.  From now on, they would watch their little girl grow up.  Meggy was big enough already to handle herself most parts.  Loina was happy now and couldn’t wait to tell Kemmy about it tomorrow.

*    *    *

The next day was Saturday.  Loina woke up early to go see Kemmy.  She left a note on the table saying she would go outside for a little bit. 

His secret was safe with her.

But when she reached the tower, breathing heavily and clutching her middle, Kemmy wasn’t there.  All she could find were forty days’ worth of diaries and a few dried up pens.

A tear stung her eye and she pushed it back.  Did he leave?

“Kemmy!” she called.  “Kemmy!”  But only her gasping voice echoed through the tower.  Light trickled in from the open window and shone on the diaries.  Loina picked the top one up and flipped to the page Kemmy must’ve left off.

“Dear, Loina,” she read out loud, surprised to find the last page was a letter.

“I’m glad we finally met.  I liked talking to you.  I told you I only remembered two years at a time.  What I didn’t tell you was that yesterday (your day) was my last day.  We only live forty years (our time).  I was hoping you would someday come up so we could talk all day.  I’m glad you decided to come when you did.  I’m glad I could meet you before I left.  Oh, and you can keep my diaries.  I wrote in them just for you.  About all kinds of stuff.  I can read minds.  I didn’t tell you.  I thought you’d be afraid.  So, well, this is the end.  Goodbye, Loina.  Thank you for being my last and only frie”

It ended right there but Loina knew what it was supposed to be.  “You were my first friend, Kemmy,” she sobbed and tucked the notebooks under her arms.  Then, carefully, she went back down the stairs and out of the abandoned tower.  She only turned back once.  Hoping Kemmy wasn’t really gone.  But the tower just stood there, half broken, half crumbly.  Grass shoots sprung out around it here and there.  Rusted metal bars stuck out from pieces of stone like thorns.

Loina turned around and trekked back home.  She had a home concert tonight and she needed to get ready and pretty.

“Somewhere over the rainbow,” she sung softly as she made for her house.