Why I haven't been blogging as much... (plus a Casually Homicidal snippet) | Olivia J

"Step into a scene and let it drip from your fingers,"

-MJ Bush

I love this blog. Even if very few people read it, I would still probably write for it. I love the content I produce, I love sharing stuff with you, and I love analyzing literature. This blog is a portfolio of me.

And I hate that I haven’t been able to write on it as consistently as I did during high school. I usually only missed one or two blog posts a year.

And then college happened.

I’ve resorted to being able to write one blog post every two weeks, and that’s iffy. I just don’t want to put out subpar content when I truly don’t have the time - or mental energy - to produce quality content.

It sucks, but that's my life right now. And my content on this blog should reflect my life. Don't worry, I'm working on getting blogging back into my weekly schedule. Literary analysis will be few and far between, but then you might be getting more lifestyle posts.

However, there is another reason why I haven't been blogging as much, and it's a much better excuse than busyness.

Casually Homicidal, the current YA Thriller/Contemporary novel I'm writing, is almost done. Yes, you heard that right. I'm almost done. I've only got five chapters left, and then draft one is done.

But really, it's beautiful. I have fallen irrevocably in love with this story and these characters. I was afraid it was never going to happen again, but here we are. Casually Homicidal has taken over my life, and I'm 100% here for it.

Now, there hasn't really been an official synopsis for Casually Homicidal since I'm still perfecting it, and the only info you guys have gotten is over on Instagram (@olivia.j.the.wordshaker) in the form of collages and snippets.

However, there is a little bit more I can share with you, in the form of a short piece about the themes of Casually Homicidal. And some photos of course.

***

So . . . what is Casually Homicidal even about?

Casually Homicidal is about change, and the insane things we do to stop time.

It’s about being so rejected that all you can manage to do is reject other people.

pic creds to Pinterest

It’s about the secrets we keep and what they drive us to do.

It’s about being so incredibly empty that we don’t even realize we’re filling a void.

It’s about small towns and nostalgia and the wilderness of young adulthood.

pic creds to Pinterest

It’s about pain and the people, memories, and experiences that change us.

It’s about accepting the past and facing the future.

It’s about deciding who you really want to be.

pic creds to Pinterest

Casually Homicidal is about two eighteen-year-olds trying to find out where they fit in a world that wants nothing to do with either of them.

Cue the existential crises, road trips, and bloody murder.

***

And a snippet, just because I'm so generous.

***

“Was I right about you, Hendrix?”

“What?”

“Was I right, that you want to leave too? That you feel this terrible, awful stringing feeling inside, like your stomach is made of a ball of yarn and someone’s just pulling and pulling and pulling at it? Except you’re not sure where they’re pulling it, so the spool just grows smaller and smaller, until one day it’s just going to pop out of you Do you feel that way, too?”

Hendrix pauses. His eyes glaze and go far away - he’s thinking. “Yes.”

His voice strikes me, sharp and metallic. He’s lying, I can feel it right in the core of me. People lie to me all the time. I’ve gotten good at discerning it. “You don’t.”

Hendrix swallows audibly. “Yeah, I do.” It comes out more like a question.

My forehead tenses up. I ought to take him at face value - I really should. I sit up and start to walk over towards him, to see if he’s genuine. If he really means anything he’s saying.

But he turns on his heel and walks away from me, towards his side of the bed.

“We should sleep, Arden. It’s almost 2am.”

My chest splinters as I wander back into bed, swallowed by the soft darkness. I’m sleeping in the same bed as Hendrix, but he feels so far away. And the divide is lined with sinkholes and jagged rocks and fearsome creatures on both sides.

It’s not like he felt any closer when we worked together at that Godforsaken frozen yogurt shop. But us being in this together, it feels like we should be.

Granted, the world should be a lot of things.

But we both know it’s not.

***

Love you all. Thanks for supporting what I love.

~The WordShaker

The Vine Across the Wire | Olivia J

"Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened," - Dr. Seuss 

On my way to campus, there is a vine that has crawled up a powerline to drapes across the road along a wire. As the month has passed, I have watched the vine grow lush and green, strong and alive against the late summer heat. And I have watched it die in a brilliant display of color, wilting into leaves that rustle in the autumn wind. 

That vine has been a sort of constant in my life. I watch as it changes whenever I drive past. It makes me smile. And it reminds me that what goes up, must come down. That what grows must eventually die. 

The impermanence of all natural and human things, I think, is actually quite humbling and beautiful. It reminds us that if we don't give life meaning, then no one will give it to us. We are the ones who give life meaning, and you only have one shot to make the most out of every day, every week, every month. 

Everything changes. Welcome to life. If nothing's changing in your life, are you really living it? That vine wasn't destined to stay across that wire forever.

An abundance of things have been changing in my life. And if you know me, then you know that change and I don't get along. 

But with all bad changes, some good ones always open up. With the loss of a friend, I have gained more. Where theater used to fill my hours, I've been working at a job I love.  

Things are nostalgic these days. Casually Homicidal - my WIP - is coming along slowly but surely. I'm seeing old friends, finding out who's going to stick around. I'm learning to be independent, to be not just my own whole person but my own whole person who can also do her laundry and grocery shop. 

I'm moving forward by looking back. By seeing where I always catch coffee with him. By seeing the glow of Friday night lights on the horizon that will always remind me of the two of you. By laughing at the time my friend and I sought out the stray cats in the back of our local DQ because we're just that passionate about cats. All of the places that remind me of my firsts. All of the cornfields that remind me of my grandfather. All of the trees that remind me of adventure. 

So I think I can add the vine across the wire to my list that makes this old soul nostalgic. 

But I guess being nostalgic means that I've loved something so much for it to still follow me like a friendly shadow. 

~The WordShaker

New Novels, Living Life, and Endings

"Stay faithful to the stories in your head," -Paula Hawkins

I think I've been really slacking on these analysis posts, guys. While I love them, they do take a lot of work - a.k.a. a lot of time and effort that I just haven't had lately. 

However, a lot of things have happened in my life that are definitely worth noting.

First off, being that I started a new novel! You may know this if you follow me on Instagram, because I've posted several hints as to what it is - 

- and unfortunately this is not the place nor the time at which I'm going to tell you what my current WIP is about. All I'll reveal is the title: 

Casually Homicidal

And an aesthetic collage to satisfy the masses:

Alas, some changes have been rolling through my Instagram - I've changed my theme! The blue sheet is gone, and now every photo will be taken in front of or around my bookshelf!

Unfortunately, Casually Homicidal is moving at a snail's pace - which is better than not at all. But I've realized that I have two settings: living and writing. I can't really seem to do both. 

My life goes through phases - either I'm out living my life to the fullest, having new and different experiences, or I'm neck deep in a story. And when I try and do both, both aspects suffer. It's a bit frustrating because I feel . . . incomplete if I'm not working on a story. 

I've got a sign in my room that says "live for the moments you can't put into words". I've been trying to live by that. If I don't live my life, how will I have anything to write about?

Speaking of life, I graduated high school. 

I suppose the weight of that speaks for itself. If you saw the post I made this past Tuesday, then this might be some recap. 

But really, overall, I just feel . . . conflicted. Part excited and part so incredibly done but also a lot sad. Yeah, mostly sad. 

It's a surreal feeling really, how much my life is going to change. A lot of lasts have happened in the past few weeks, and just having that itching and clawing at the back of mind makes everything a shade grayer. 

I've been reflecting on, I guess, how I started high school, what place I was in, and now how I'm leaving high school. 

When I started high school in 2014 I wanted to die. Sorry for the bluntness - might as well get it out of the way now. But really, I suffered from really bad anxiety and depression from about 2013-2015. I still struggle with anxiety, but it's nowhere near as bad. But truly, for a long time, I was nothing but a well of unending pain. 

Fast forward four years, and here I am. Better than ever, with a published novel, amazing friends, and . . . a bright future. That sounds sappy, but trust me, it's true. I'm not the person I was four years ago, which, by all accounts, is a good thing. 

So, I guess there's not really a point to that story other than reflecting on what these four years have done to me and what they've given me. Reflecting back on who I've been, so I can know who I'll become. 

And I also want to say thank you. 

I don't really feel like listing anyone, because I know I'll forget someone and then I'll feel bad.

Alas. Thank you for changing me. Thank you for being there for me. Thank you for giving me a home. Thank you for the memories. Thank you for the heartache. 

For it all has made me who I am. 

~The WordShaker

This isn't a real blog post. | Olivia J

"A professional writer is an amateur who didn't quit," -Richard Bach 

7:55pm. Haven't written a blog post yet. 

Cutting all of the saccharine junk, I'm at a blogger's block. Is that a thing? Regardless, I've barely been able to focus on my novel writing, much less crank out quality blog posts. 

Which is why this isn't a blog post. 

Well, maybe not a quality one. 

In order to fill the space - and to trick you all into thinking that this is a legitimate blog post -  I'll be sharing some of the things that might make it onto above-the-fold headlines if my life was a newspaper. 

Which, unfortunately, it's not. 

TEEN AUTHOR CAN'T STOP COMPARING HERSELF TO OTHERS - CHAOS ENSUES

AP ART STUDENT WANTS TO GIVE UP, BUT SUPERSTAR GRANDPA WON'T LET HER

MERSISTER DONS BLUE WIG: WANTS TO CHANGE NAME AND MOVE TO CANADA

BREAKING! DOCTORS DISCOVER THAT TEA IS THE ULTIMATE CURE-ALL

Ok, but in all seriousness, I've pretty much been having a crisis ever since my book was released. My life has been a slew of comparing myself to other teen authors, not feeling good enough, creating, deleting, and recreating. And among an endless cycle of things I have to do. 

But above all, I can't wait to get to Atlanta and do whatever the hell I want. 

~The WordShaker