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

My Tumultuous Relationship with Swimming

"A writer must be in it; he has to be endangered by it. The best work that anybody ever writes is the work that is on the verge of embarrassing him, always," -Arthur Miller

Back in maybe fourth grade, I had my heart set on being an Olympic swimmer. 

Good thing that didn't turn out well. 

Long story short, I've been swimming since I was eight, and, between third and fifth grade, I got really competitive with my winter team. I was . . . really good for my age. I was young and strong and ate all the right proteins and carbs. 

But then, fifth and sixth grade happened. Which meant puberty happened and I gained a lot of estrogen weight, and I got into writing, art, and theater. This realization of my abounding creativity, combined with the added stress of competitive swimming 11 months out of the year, I started disliking competition. A lot. But by that point, I had abandoned the pipe dream of being an Olympic swimmer. I just wasn't cut out for it. 

I slowly eased off competition, until I only competed a few times during the summer, and this was a happy medium for me. But still, a part of me wanted to taste that gold, see those blue ribbons. However, the way my body developed (and the way I chose to develop it) and my work ethic weren't synonymous with always winning. And, nobody wins all the time, right?

But with the help of my amazing swimming friends (shoutout to Morgan, Sabrena, Donna, and Tess, etc.), I was able to accept that I swim just for me. I swim for the endorphins, for the feeling of the water like silk, for the hot summer nights and great friends. 

But to this day, I still have this cognitive dissonance inside of me.

follow me on instagram @olivia.j.the.wordshaker

I still want to win at the strokes I'm good at. I still want to push myself to the max all the time and be first in the lane I'm in. 

But when I don't win, and when I push myself too hard, it's not fun. I hate it. 

I want to have fun, to swim. I want to be carefree and just hang out with my friends, because hell, it's summer. 

But my ego gets in the way. My ego, my striving for perfection, makes this hard when coaches, and most importantly, myself, expects this out of me.

~

And I think I understand why this cognitive dissonance exists, and why I'm having such a hard time shaking it.

 It's because swimming is entirely objective. There are strict techniques, and a number determines good or bad, fast or slow. 

However, I am a creative soul. My brain just doesn't work like that; it can't comprehend the fact that I can still be 'good enough' and have success in such a rigid, objective space, for better or for worse. 

Very few things in my life, and in art itself, are objective. Someone can love a piece of my writing, but someone else can not understand it. My painting can win an award at a show, but then not get anything at another. 

Art, any kind, isn't really a win-lose situation. It's just art, and 90% of one's feeling of success or being 'good enough' isn't about a ribbon or praise, it's about creating something beautiful, something that resonates with you and someone else. And that can't be measured by a number.

~The WordShaker

Smells Like Teen Spirit | Olivia J

"Writing is really a way of thinking - not just feeling but thinking about things that are desperate, unresolved, mysterious, problematic, or just sweet," -Toni Morisson

Black with a touch of yellow, like the mustard on a grilled hot dog. Unless you're one of those heathens who drowns all their food in condiments. Four little letters that mean everything to my future. 

New books and old books have a different smell, and I can't tell you which one I like better. Minimum wage can add up fast. 

White like sunscreen, black like the lane lines of a pool. White like a screen, black like text. Gray like a hodgepodge of all of the above. 

Oily pigment ground into my skin, making the whorls blue and purple and green. Audio books and sweet tea can't cure even the worst artist's block. 

Smells like being stupid for the memory, for the photo. 
Smells like ambition and the cool of a summer night. 
Smells like relapses and feelings that don't make sense.
Smells like sugar and dog days and evanescence. 

Smells like teen spirit. 

~The WordShaker