So I'm at residency!! I know you're pumped for my sloppy free writes. I actually have written two poem-like things in the last two days. Go figure. I haven't written a poem in probably 4 years. Anywhosies, here they are:

The first is from a lecture on dealing with trauma and how writing can help us deal with the traumas in our lives. This lecture was put on by my wonderful mentor and top YA writer Francesca Lia Block. She is fab. Check out her books! Francesca spoke about how sometimes whatever is bothering us in our daily lives can inhibit us from whatever it is we are working on and that if we confront the trauma by writing about it, this can clear the air and let us move on. I wrote a poem about my relationship with my dad. Remember, sloppy free write!

You taught me how to count while I rode on your shoulders and we walked around the block at night before bed.

            “I love you one.”

            “I love you two.”

You taught me to throw a baseball and snap peas from the garden.

            “I love you three.”

            “I love you four.”

You showed up for all the class trips and never missed a chance to take me water skiing or ice skating.

            “I love you five.”

            “I love you six.”

You challenged me to games of one on one and gave me my first job mowing lawns.

            “I love you nine.”

            “I love you ten.”

You started coming home angry.

            “I love you eleven.”

You lied when I asked if you cheated on Mom.

            “I love you twelve.”

You left us.

            “I love you thirteen.”

You missed almost all of my games.

            “I love you fourteen.”

You weren’t there to protect me from myself.

            “I love you fifteen.”

You’re trying to come back.

            “I love you sixteen.”

You play the best host for me. You answer my calls about cars and “dad things.” You hug me and tell me you’re proud.

            “I love you seventeen.”

You never question my judgment because you’re afraid to lose me.

            “I love you eighteen.”

I needed you to be my dad. I needed you to be there. I needed you to talk to me and tell me when I was being stupid. And you weren’t. You didn't. But I get it. You’re here now.

            “I love you nineteen.”

            “I love you twenty.”

The next is from a lecture that ties into the one above. This one was about getting over writer's block. The instructor asked us to confront that which is stopping us from writing. She had a handout with several poems in it and I flipped the pages around because I couldn't think of anything and landed on the poem "I Give You Back: A Poem to Get Rid of Fear" by Joy Harjo. Please excuse my language. And again, I ask you to remember: sloppy free write!

Poem beginning with a line by Joy Harjo

I release you, my beautiful and terrible fear.

I release you. I once held on, self-loathing,

unconfident, but I am letting you go.

I am letting you go so I can open my heart

without being afraid. I honestly open my heart 

to life and love. I will get hurt you whisper.

I can't trust anyone you say.

How can I know? How can I expierence life

if I close out the world and hold only you,

my fear, close to me? I will get hurt, yes, 

probably, but I trust myself and I must

be open to grow. 

So fuck censorship. Fuck protecting my heart,

my soul, my being . I want to live. What is life

without love? I cannot protect myself from loss. 

I thrive on loss. Being my best at righting chaos.

Why can’t I thrive on life?

Why? Because I have been afraid. Because I

have you, my beautiful and terrible fear.

I will be open.

I will be my true self.

I will lead with my heart.

I will not be afraid.

I release you.

And my most wonderful Gayle Brandeis who always gives my favorite lecture of residency gave a talk about what would you write if you only had a year to live. She had us do an exercise that I encourage you to try even if you aren't a writer. You will certainly discover something about yourself. I found I have an obsession with love and, surprisingly, food did not show up once in my writing. So take the topics in italics and write your own lists. We know I heart lists. I repeat sloppy free write. Do this exercise though. Really. See what you learn about yourself. Life is short. Why not see who you are and be that person every day. Every moment. 

Things that attract me to a person:

Kindness; big heart; caring; funny; adventurous; brave and confident enough to be one’s self; compassionate; easy to be around/makes me comfortable; has fire and passion; active mentally, physically and socially; ambitious

Things that repulse me in a person:

Greed; arrogance; selfishness; complacence; doesn’t have time for me or others or is closed off or plugged in (my top love language is Quality Time can you tell?)

Biggest fears:

Closing myself off to others; not taking chances; inbreeds (see earlier blog post); failure; loss of my mom and brother; abandonment but, oddly, not rejection—good, I guess, since I’m a writer; helplessness; not being able to give up control and just live; living in my day dreams rather than actively living life here and now I wonder why I don’t have more physical fears—why in this free write didn’t I think of being afraid of rape or illness?

Biggest dreams:

Falling in love; publishing a book; traveling; my family living long, beautiful lives

Places like home:

The lake; the cabin; anywhere with my family—my blood family, my friends family, my work family, all the people I love; on the beach; in the sun; my gym/work but that's because of all the people I love there; in yoga class

Places that freak me out:

Inescapable places; being alone—I like my alone time. I love living alone but I guess I mean more emotionally alone

Places I want to explore:

Spain; Brazil; Mexico; Greece; Argentina; myself, my soul; the thoughts and lives of others and my characters; the whole world!

Passions:

Life; love; writing; my family; people; reading; running; biking; swimming; helping others; changing lives This is the first time I have ever, ever, put writing before reading. I guess I'm a real writer now. Also I didn't list any food. No chocolate, no cooking/baking. Odd. It was right after lunch though. 

Aversions:

Failure; limitations and parameters

Favorite books and a few words about them:

The Time Traveler’s Wife—love, impossibilities, possibilities, setting, story The Great Gatsby—language, story

Social issues I care deeply about:

Equality; choices; harmony; peace; animals; the environment

Philosophical issues I care deeply about:

Being one’s self; peace; humanity

What am I most ashamed of?:

What I haven’t told my mom; giving up; not being the confident person I tell others to be; not opening up and letting the world in; guarding myself; not being honest with myself; not being honest with others

What are my most blissful moments?:

Reading at the lake in the sun on the beach; baking with my mom; being with my family/everyone I love; riding my bike; water skiing; running; racing with my dad; going on walks and talking; staying up late and talking; good dessert

Things I’ve lost:

My innocence too early; my childhood; my grandma

Things I want:

Love; hugs; smiles; happiness; simply to be myself; a dog; my health and that of my family and loved ones; travel; experience; time with those I love; nothing wasted

I'm not big on quoting other people's words. I'd rather we all embrace our own thoughts, but Gayle gave us some great ones today that I want to share:

"Only put off until tomorrow what you are willing to die having left undone."

Pablo Picasso

Top five regrets of the dying:

1. I wish I'd had the courage to live life true to myself and not the life others expected of me

2. I wish I hadn't worked so hard.

3. I wish I had the courage to express my feelings.

4. I wish I hadn't lost touch with old friends.

5. I wish I had let myself be happier. 

http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2012/feb/01/top-five-regrets-of-the-dying

"Tell me, what is it you plan to do/with your one wild and precious life?" from the poem "The Summer Day" by Mary Oliver

So go out there, live your one precious life true to yourself and yourself only. Express your feelings, follow your gut, take chances, pass up things that don't inspire you, but never leave for tomorrow your dreams of today. 

I leave to Los Angeles tomorrow for school so my love and I went for a nice long ride this morning. I wanted her to know that I will miss her and promised not to cheat on her with any other bikes. We're going along and it's a beautiful and hot summer morning. About 10 miles into my ride, the trail heads into a park with baseball fields. How nice, I think. Tis the season. The baseball diamonds are crisp and clean and boys are throwing around balls. The mowing crews are just heading out to start before the day becomes too hot. How nice.
A Gator full of lawn crew dudes pulls up on the bike trail in front of me and the dudes start climbing out. "Bike up!" I yell. Nothing. "Excuse me!" I call. Nothing. "Coming through. Ahhh!! Shit! Crap! Watch it!" I screech. Then WAMP. I hit the ground. My shoes are still clipped into the bike, of course, and I'm laying on the ground apologizing. Me apologizing! When the reason I fell was because one of the guys was flinging around his weed whacker and didn't hear or see me coming. I felt like a tool. All three guys rush to pick me up. In honor of it being summer and me thinking about road trips to the lake I was listening to "The Thong Song" Radio on Pandora. I'm sure they could hear "Ignition Remix" by R. Kelly. I am awesome.
My bike and I get along our way and eventually have to go through a trailer park. In Counciltucky--I know you're surprised. We are just bee-bopping along to "Bills, Bills, Bills" by Destiny's Child and out of nowhere a speed bump jumps out at us! Ahhhhh! Panic! Chaos! I almost fly over the handle bars--which wouldn't actually happen because my shoes would have stayed clipped into the pedals so I'm sure my whole bike and I would have cartwheeled through the trailer park, because we are one--but I rip one foot out of the clips and do this stupidly badass skid to a stop. My helmet slightly askew, I look around to see if any Counciltuckians saw my idiocy. Nope. Just a little dog barking at me. Bruised ego nonetheless.
The rest of our ride was uneventful except for the extremely large, extremely sweaty, extremely hairy shirtless grandpa I saw walking at Lake Manawa.
Lies. Actually, even an hour later, riding through the baseball fields again I had to ride past the same lawn crew of idiot boys again. They all waved. Ride of shame.

A new bit from the novel I'm currently working on (and you've seen some of!) Enjoy!

Chapter 7: In Which I Go to the Dark Side

            Meet day. Time to rock it.

            The gun shocks me into action. My trainers rip into the grass and I take flight on the course I know so well. Our home course at Skyview Lake. I plow up the first hill and they’re all behind me. Not one of those girls has anything on me. Dad is here somewhere with Bryce. Mom is here too, I’m sure.

Short quick steps uphill, pump your arms. Get it! Attack this hill. Go, girl. Why are you here? Why are you running? To win.

I wonder if there are any scouts here. I’ll show them. I’ll show them I’m not the girl I was last spring. That I’ve got it back. I’m Jaisa Jameson and they want me to be their cross country star. I’ll show everyone I’m not the girl who got dumped by Mikah anymore.

“Harder, Jameson!” Coach Q yells to me at mile two. “I want a school record.”

A school record will be my old PR. A personal and school record. I’ll do to. I want it. Half a mile to go. I can blow that record out of the water. The record is 14:22. I set it last year while I was still running to make Mikah proud.

“Give your kick Jaisa! Beat me!” Cooper’s voice comes to me from the crowd. I see him running outside the flags that section off the course. The boys’ race is after we finish. He’ll wear himself out. What is he doing?

He’s running fast. Beat him? OK. This is a terrible idea for him. He has to race too!

The finish line pulls tight across my chest. 14:18. Bam! I am a super star!

“Damn, Jaisa!” Cooper slams into me and hugs me tight. “Way to set the bar for the rest of the season!”

Coach Q claps me on the back. “That better be par for the season and not max. I’m proud of you though. Get to the start, Cooper. I’m assuming that sprint with Jaisa was warm up for your win?”

“Right.” Cooper salutes Coach Q and starts jogging over to the start. He looks back at me, jogging backward and gives me two thumbs up.

I feel great. I mean, my chest is heaving, I couldn’t have gone harder, but really, I could keep this up. I could do better as the season goes on. I will. I will do better.

Dad and Bryce jog over in their St. Ann’s gear to hug me. Mom walks over, waiting behind while Dad and Bryce praise me.

“I’m so proud of you, Speed Demon!” Dad said.

            I look over Dad’s shoulder to see Mom hugging herself while Dad bear hugs me. Mom steps forward when Dad let’s go.

            “Way to go, Jaisa. Hi, Bryce. Nick.” Mom nods to my dad, not meeting his eyes.

            “Hey, Jules.” Dad still calls Mom his pet name for her—short for Julia. He runs his hand over his bread and up into his hair, looking down at the ground.

            I’ve got to get away from this. “I’m going to go watch the guys finish. Thanks for coming, guys. See you love you bye.”

            “See you love you bye, Jais!” Dad calls while he drops his arm around Bryce’s shoulders.

            Mom lifts her hand in a small wave.

            Cooper won by almost twelve seconds. Not even a contest for him either. He didn’t set any records though. We go for a cool down jog as a team and when we get back to the gym, Coach Q announces captains.

            “After today’s performance, there is no doubt in my mind that our girls’ captain will be one of the best leaders this team has ever had. Jaisa, come on up here. And Jeremy, you’ll be leading our boys.”

            “Party tonight to celebrate your win!” Lydia whispers into my ear when I sit back down to listen as Coach Q breaks down the next week’s practice schedule. It’s Saturday morning. A week from last week’s party. Garrett has messaged me every night day since the party. He has already asked me if I’d be at the party tonight.

            “I think you should go with him. Or plan to meet him there,” Lydia says on the way home. She drove me to the meet this morning.

            “But I don’t know if I really want to see Garrett.”

            “He obviously likes you. He’s nice, interested in what you have to say—per evidence from the messages he leaves you, they’re basically like love letters—and not bad looking at all.”

            She’s right. We do have things to talk about. His parents are also divorced. He also had Mr. Miller, but had almost failed regular physics. We really got on a roll about Nebraska football. But then I remembered he was supposed to be playing for Nebraska but didn’t make grades. He told me about motorcycles. I’d actually really like to go for a ride on one. I’ve never been on a motorcycle.

            But Cooper talks to me a lot too. In class, while we run. But he’s not going to the party. He said he was hoping for a low-key weekend and he’d talk to me on Monday.

            “I’m just really surprised Cooper didn’t ask you to do something,” Lydia says.

            “I told you. He said low-key weekend.” I fiddle with the seatbelt.

            “I know, but he asked you to watch a movie last Sunday. Low-key sounds perfect for a movie date night.” She checks her teeth in the rearview mirror while we wait for a stoplight. “Oh, well! I don’t know what Cooper’s deal is. I’m glad you’re coming out with me. And you don’t owe Cooper anything so Garrett is all yours tonight. No awkward negotiation between the two. Let me tell you. It’s not fun to be out with both guys who might want to date you.”

            “Everyone wants to date you,” I grumble.

            Lydia pulls into the apartment complex. “Take a good nap so that you don’t have to leave early this time!” she calls as a lug my bag out of the backseat.

###

            “You look really amazing,” Garrett tells me leaning on the cab of Tanner’s new Ford pick up. His breath smells a little boozy. We’re at a county party. Out in the middle of the cornfields on a county road.

            This party’s theme follows the theme of the St. Ann’s football game: hillbilly. Flannel, cowgirl hats and boots, braided pigtails and jeans. I can see Garrett’s muscles under his plain white t-shirt. It’s more like an undershirt the way it stretches across his chest.

            “I heard you went totally HAM at your race today.”

            I look into the black cornfield. Hard as a motherfucker isn’t really how I’d describe cross country running, but I guess it’s a compliment. “Yeah, I’m pretty excited.”

            He leans in closer to me. Lydia’s giggle rings from the tailgate of Isaiah’s truck where she sits, tipping back vodka Red Bulls.

            “We should probably be celebrating then.” Garrett taps his red plastic cup with mine and chugs the rest of his beer. I sip my lemonade. Even though Cooper isn’t here, I still stole his trick.

            A dark SUV pulls into the crossroads, kicking up dust and gravel. “Shit. Who’s that?” Garrett asks, shielding his eyes from the headlights. There are dozens of us here. I can feel everyone tensing ready to run if an adult climbs out the car. People shift their drinks out of view, shielding them with their bodies or dumping them out.

            A two tall guys climb out of the front seats and two girls climb out of the back. The guy who exited the passenger seat reaches up and rubs his eyebrows with his left hand. Mikah. Mikah is here. He reaches back to the girl who had been sitting behind him and wraps his arm around her waist. She’s wearing Daisy Duke shorts, cowgirl boots, pigtails like mine and her flannel shirt is tied up under her boobs revealing a sparkly belly button ring in her perfectly flat stomach.

            Lydia is beside me. I have no idea how she got there. “Who’s this bitch?” she asks. “Drink this and wipe that stupid look off your face.” She hands me her cup and I down the drink without thinking. My insides light up. The alcohol burns but I feel a little more alive.

            Garrett slips his thick arm around my shoulders and kisses me hard. When he pulls away, his forehead rests on mine. “You’re beautiful. You kicked ass at your race today. You’re with me and better off without him. Do you want to go? Or do you want to show him?”

            I grab his cup and down it too, take a big breath, letting the alcohol relax my brain, my body. I’m tired of worrying about Mikah. I just want to let it go. I bite my lip and look at him through my lashes like I’ve seen Lydia do so many times. “Let’s show him.”