NaNo update

So I'm guessing nobody is really that interested in how I'm doing with NaNo this year, but hey it's my blog and I get to choose what's on it. Deal with it. (No - I am not having an argument with my non-existing readers, what would make you think that?)

So far things are going great. I've decided to write about a character that is hopefully a mix of Doctor Who, Sherlock Holmes and Dexter Morgan. I mean, three awesome men all rolled into one. What could posssible go wrong? (okay, don't answer that)

I have to admit that I'm picturing him like the Tenth Doctor. Dear blogreaders, meet Kant.

There's two of them, doubble-yay!

Anyway, the story I'm writing, is the kind where anything (and I do mean anything) can happen. I'm hoping this will make it easier for me to avoid writing myself into a corner. Yeah. One can dream.

I got 2.500 words down today, which means I'm still behind, but I'm catching up and I have a good feeling about this story and this character. This going to be fun! 

Btw, this is my profile on NaNoWriMo: Calije

The Dualities of Names

I like to always choose words for titles and names that have more than just one meaning. 

I am starting NaNoWriMo today. So far I've written a staggering 178 words. Impressive, right?

Anyway, the enigmatic male lead is called Kant. No last name, not that I know of at least. He is just Kant.

I chose it because it's a strong name. I wanted something that was out of the ordinary, quirky and conveyed power.

Another aspect of the name is that in Danish, 'Kant' means 'edge'. To be on the edge of something - be that life, death, the universe or something else entirely. But Kant is most definitely a character who always lives on the edge of what is possible. So again the name was very fitting.

Of course I didn't come up with the name all by myself. It actually belongs to this guy:

Immanuel Kant

A German philosopher who lived from 1724 - 1804

In researching his name I came across this quote: “Thoughts without content are empty, ideas without concepts are blind.”

And that quote just fits so well with how I’m imagining my character to be. I just love it when something clicks and that feeling of rightness washes over me. It’s why I write.

And now I have to get back to actually writing on my story. Or should I say Kant’s story?

The unexpected compliment

So today at work, I was emailing back and forth with a colleague of mine (who also happens to be a Guy I Like – GIL [that is what he shall be named from now on: GIL from work]).

(Okay, so this obviously isn’t the GIL from work. But since you don’t actually know what he looks like, feel free to imagine that he looks like James McAvoy. Then I'll daydream and do the same.)

I was explaining to him that when I was a child, I used to look forward to getting mail, but now I'm dreading it because it is almost always a bill. His reply to that mail totally made my day and not in a way I would have expected.

I would have loved for him to ask me out, to tell me that he liked me, to tell me he thought I was the most wonderful woman in the whole universe. Instead, this is what he said (translated [and paraphrased a tiny bit]):

"You have a cool way with words.. I'm kindda seeing a little film in my head because of it. :) Awesome. :)" 

I don’t know him very well. Yes, I have a crush on him, but he is by no means in my inner circle of friends. Far from it. He is simply a Guy I Like from work. And he liked reading my words. The words that I wrote. I think he’s the first person to ever compliment my writing, without being socially obligated too (such as family, teachers or close friends).

What made it even more awesome was that I wasn’t even trying to write anything spectacular. I wasn’t trying to set a mood, to convey character emotion, to write a funny dialogue. I was just writing in my own voice, telling him about how I felt about something as trivial as my mail.

And he liked the way I wrote it. He could picture the words that I wrote and that is just amazing. Something I wrote, created an image in somebody else’s head (that’s almost like telepathy, right? Right.)

Nothing he could’ve said would have made me happier. Not even a declaration of love.

In fact, I think this is better, because this compliment didn’t reflect on me as a person or how he saw me. It was a compliment to my skills with words.

This GIL from work and I might never be anything more than what we are now, but even if all he ever gives me, is this one compliment, then I’ll be grateful.

And it motivated me to actually write tonight and not just watch Chuck.*



*Chuck is a television show about a computer geek working as a Tech-supporter at a Buy More, who is pulled into the spyworld when a bunch of top-secret information is downloaded into his brain. It’s funny and quirky and you should watch this trailer for it – yeah okay, so I watch a lot of television shows. Like, A LOT.

What defines us?

I watched an episode of Torchwood* yesterday and it really got to me. 

The episode was called Adam and it was about an alien that managed to manipulate each of the teammembers memories. This ended up changing them radically (e.i. a cynic womanizer became a romantic fool for love, the quiet nerdy girl blossomed into a self-assured and sexy woman).

At the end of the episode, when they’re trying to remember who they used to be, they’re asked to look inside themselves and find their core memories - the moments that defined them and shaped their lives.

 

It got me thinking about my own defining moments and just like the characters on the show, I feel like I’ve been defined more by the bad stuff than the good stuff. I remember clearly the first time I had to take on the role of being a parent, because my mother was too drunk and no one else was around to do it. As the youngest sibling of four, it was a totally new feeling and very, very scary. I was terrified, but I couldn't show it, because then my mother would just become even more difficult to deal with. I remenber feeling utterly lost, but oddly in control of the situation at the same time. It was a very weird sensation. Bittersweet. Certainly not something I would classify as a happy memory. 

And so it goes for a lot of the moments that I feel have defined who I am.

 

Why is it that hardship seems to make a bigger imprint on us than all of the good times?

 

I took a break in my blogging here, to ponder this question and you know how they say 'ask and you shall recieve'? 

Well...

 

I was just surfing the net and reading the news when I stumbled upon an article (in Danish) about epigenes and how a traumatic event in your childhood can literally change the epigenes of your DNA.

 

We're talking about how psychological trauma can actually effect you right down to the genetic level. That suffering in your childhood can make a lasting imprint on your DNA. This certainly seem to explain the nitty gritty details of why it changes us.

It would appear that mind and body is connected on a multitude of levels.

I don't know if that is a comforting thought or not. But it does make me think about the characters I write about. What kind of trauma have they experienced? How did it effect them? Do they even know how deep the wounds go?

I was surprised to learn that I've been changed on a genetic level because of things I experienced in my childhood. But the creative writer in me wonders how this might be the seed of a story. 

* Torchwood is an British sci-fi show, a spin-off of Doctor Who**. It's about a team of humans, defending the world against aliens. 

** Doctor Who is one of the best shows ever. If you don't know it, you really, really should. Start by watching this. And that. And just because I kindda think he's adorable and you should see him in all his adorableness here's a picture of David Tennant as the Doctor: 

Being vs. trying

 

(Pop fiction is a source of many of my inspirational qoutes - don't judge)

Do or do not. There is no try.

These are words I try to live by. Is anybody else seeing the irony of this?

Anyway. I really do believe that the words we use, shape not just how we see the world, but how we interact in it as well.

If I constantly refer to myself as somebody who is trying to be a writer, then that is all I will ever be. I will never be a writer. I’ll only ever be dreaming about it and trying.

Following this train of thought, then I have to refer to myself as a writer, to actually be a writer. Theories of social construction supports this notion and it feels true. If you want to be a certain way, you have to own it.  Strangely enough, it’s not enough to just walk the walk, you have to also talk the talk. And sometimes, that is the hardest part.

So this blog is essentially about me, talking the talk.

My name is Cathy L. Jensen and I am a writer.

I’m not trying. I’m not even dreaming. I just am.

First post

*ahem*

Hi there, blogging community.

I've been hanging around the blogosphere for quite a while now, and I've decided it's time to jump into the deep end of the pool and start my own blog (here's to hoping that there won't be any sharks hiding in the waters...).

I am a young writer living in Copenhagen, Denmark.

Wauw. Just writing that sentence makes me all sorts of wobly. You see, I've read that all it takes to be a writer is to simply write stuff . And I do that - oh boy do I do that. But I never seem to finish a story. I never seem to get the characters just right. I never seem to actually be a writer. I only ever try.

I wanted to end on a more uplifting note, but it's late and my bed is calling to me. Next post will be more positive, I promise.

I don't know what else to write to properly introduce myself, but stick around and I'm sure you'll get to know me very well.