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

A Writer's Love Letter to Theater | Olivia J

"Theater is the most immediate way in which another human being can share with another the sense of what it is to be a human being," -Oscar Wilde

There has never been a time where I don't remember being on stage. If it wasn't theater, it was dance. When I quit dance sometime in elementary school, I started theater in fifth grade, and it's been a part of my life ever since. The thing is: I don't know if theater is going to continue to be a part of my life beyond high school.

And so we find ourselves, nearly a decade later. This Saturday was my last show at Washington. I've made lifelong friends and forever memories. I'm feeling a whirlwind of everything, and so, I did what only I knew how do. I wrote about it. 

~

Dear WCHS Theater Department,

Thank you for making this place a home away from home. Sometimes my creative cave can be a little lonely, even when I do connect with other writers/artists. But you guys are loud and bright and crazy and full of love and sometimes it's everything I need on bad days. Thank you for accepting me even though I'm not pursuing a career in this field, even though I'm not 'like you'. 

What I really want to say is that I'm going to miss this. I'm going to miss the bleary-eyed trips to Steak 'n Shake. I'm going to miss the writhing of nerves in the dimly lit wings, but the solace of knowing that we're all feeling the same thing. I'm going to miss gambling for Oreos in the scene shop. I'm going to miss that terrible, duct taped couch and that marma-laaaawwwhhd warm-up and the memes we made of ourselves and taped on the walls of the dressing rooms. I'm going to miss this whole experience more than anything about high school, and it breaks my heart that this period of my life is over. 

But hey, maybe this experience will show up in one of my books someday, in flashes of characters and subplots, or little puzzles pieces painting a picture of life and art and the feeling of being free. Maybe I'll write about all of you. That way, I can immortalize this. I'll freeze these moments in time for us to experience and re-experience all over again - the good, the bad, the ugly, and the absolutely amazing. 

Maybe then, I won't miss it so much. But then again, I think those are the best things to write about. 

With bittersweet love,

~The WordShaker

The Last Half of High School | Olivia J

"It's not what you write, it's the way you write it," -Jack Kerouac

*Note: I censor because I want to keep the little children safe. Reminder, these are my feelings, messy and dirty as they are, and I'm not going to entirely censor my blog because it's my blog. 

Now that summer school is over, actual school is right around the bend. (Hell, that sounds awful.) And I don't know that I've ever been more scared to go back to school in my life. 

Back in May, I made the decision to be partially homeschooled for the last two years of my high school career. This meant that I would take some classes at the high school but take some at home, even some at the community college. 

This f***ing scares me. 

I really don't like to use this word on my blog, since a lot of people I know read my blog, but truthfully, there's no other four words I could string together to portray how f***ing scared I am of the 2016-2017 school year. 

Not only is it most generally the toughest (hello, ACT), but it's so different. Usually, I'm scared of going back to school because I dread it. Because literally nothing stresses me out more than going to school, and all that that entails. 

However, this year, it's all so different. I'm taking a college class in my junior year of high school. Holy s**t. I'm going to be so young and so new and so different and maybe even so dumb because, even though I tested into it, they're all high school graduates. 

I'm worried that it's going to alienate me. I'm worried that, even though I'm taking three high school classes, it will still make me even more different than everyone else. I'm worried that I'll drift from my amazing (yet few) friends. I'm afraid people are going to criticize me for my choice, even if that choice is best for me. 

I'm so afraid. I'm not afraid because it's bad, but I'm afraid because it's different. 

And I don't like different. 

Love, your extremely conflicted high school student,

~The WordShaker