Playing Dragon Age

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Ours is a video game family. The kids play games regularly and Howard goes through periods of regular play spaced by hiatuses. I used to play. I loved the Zelda games on the N64. But that was back when I had two small kids who loved to watch Mommy play because they did not have the skills to beat the games themselves. Me playing a game was a family bonding activity. It was only a few years later that the kids were taking the controller from my hands. My game play became competition rather than entertainment. I also became very busy. With my time at a premium I found it hard to allow myself to invest energy into a game.

Then came Dragon Age. Howard got it for Christmas. At first I watched Howard play. Then the older kids picked it up and began to play. I became fascinated by the story mechanics in the game. The things said in dialogue changed the story for the rest of the game and I found myself wondering what the story would have been like if the player chose differently. My curiosity grew until I picked up a controller and started my own game. I was quickly hooked. This game engages the same part of my brain which I use to write fiction. I get to help craft stories around characters, but I don’t have to worry about plot holes because the game designers have thought it all through for me.

Eventually the game will run out of plot lines for me to follow. This is a good thing, because the game is eating chunks of time. Video games are expensive. The equipment is expensive. The time is expensive. My creative brain space is expensive. But playing the game showed me something about myself. I don’t often engage in activities where the only point is my own enjoyment. I frequently do things I enjoy, but they are always attached to a larger purpose. I don’t have many hobbies. Dragon Age as a hobby is nice because I can see that it is self-limiting. I’ll spend time on it for awhile and then I will stop. I just need to make sure that I do my important things first. This will make my interesting hobby last much longer.

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Notes from a presentation on journaling/blogging

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I gave a 20 minute presentation on blogging and journaling this evening. It was a really enjoyable experience. I love getting to talk about the writing that I love to do. It was nice to share that love with people who were considering picking it up. What follows here is notes from my presentation. This is mostly for my benefit. I may have to give a similar presentation some time in the future and this way I can start from the notes I already have. It also allows me to point people to this entry instead of creating a piece of paper to hand out. Perhaps it will even be useful to someone who was not at tonight’s event. Keep in mind that these notes only served as a jumping off point for discussions which were much more nuanced and specific.

The difference between blogging and journaling: Journaling is primarily private, the only intended audience is yourself. Blogging has an audience in mind even if that audience is only one other person. Both blogs and journals can contain personal thoughts, events, experiences, or commentary.

Costs and Benefits:
Both cost time, energy and brain space. Some of the tools require practice to use.
Writing thoughts down helps them be clearer and more focused. It slows them down so they can be examined.
That slow down provides a conduit for inspiration and seeing things in a new way.
In a public blog, sometimes you get comments. That can be either a cost or a benefit depending upon the nature of the comments.
Can be a wonderful way to connect with family, friends, or even meet new people.

Tools:
Paper and pencil- journals don’t have to be elaborate. I’ve grabbed scraps of paper before. But I recommend a method where the bits of paper won’t get lost.
Bound book- this can be anything from a special tome purchased for the purpose to a ten cent spiral notebook. At times I have found the spiral notebook to be very nice because it is so relaxed. I scribble all my notes, math calculations, lists, etc in the same place and it becomes a record of my life at the time.
Online- Lots of options. I’ll only list the three I know personally
Livejournal – An online community which has friends lists similar to facebook. People can lock their entries according to who they want seeing the entries. Read their site for more details.
Blogger – A journal or blog here can be completely password protected, or open to the public. Read their site for more details.
Own Domain name – This takes a lot more effort to set up, but can be very flexible and useful.

Stumbling Blocks:
“My life is boring” – No it isn’t. All of our lives are full of things that would be fascinating to someone who lives differently. Find the little stories in your life. The odd conversation in the grocery store line. The child’s lost tooth. Think of the stuff you would tell to a friend you haven’t spoken to for a day or a week. You can carry a little notebook to scribble notes about things as they happen so that you don’t come up blank when the time comes to write.

“It is a burden” The blog or journal is yours. You own it, it should not own you. You make the rules. You don’t need to apologize if you haven’t written in a while. The journal or blog is not going to get upset. It will wait for you.

“I always forget” Like any other habit, practice is required to make it a regular part of your life. Practice also makes figuring out what to write easier. You’re training your brain.

“People are watching” This one is blog specific, particularly if you post publicly. It is easy to become self conscious. Make sure you set some clear guidelines for yourself about what parts of your life are private and which are public. Everyone will put their line in a different place when deciding whether to pose photos, names of children, location, etc. Do your own research. Think through the risks and pick what is comfortable for you.

Note: In private journals, be sure to include full names, dates, locations and details. In five years you won’t remember what “lunch with friends” was about unless you put in the details. It is not polite to post such specific information about other people on the internet unless you have their prior permission.

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Parenting Doubt

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It was one of those days when I doubt every parenting decision I have ever made. I’d scolded the kids into getting ready for school, just like I had scolded them into bed the night before. I drove them before me with my words, herding them into being in their assigned places before time ran out. It was not how I wanted to interact with my children. It was not how I wanted the pattern of our lives to go. But that’s how it was that morning, and the school drop off was accomplished.

Back at home I sat down to read my list of blogs and was unexpectedly stabbed right in the guilt. A woman I admire spoke of how she perceives many other moms as being at war with their own kids. Is that me? I wondered. I don’t want to be at war with my children, but the morning and the night before had certainly felt like a battlefield. I looked at my own behavior and I did not like what I saw. How could things be different? Why was it so stressful?. The tension was created by the looming deadline. I had to get them to sleep, so that I could get them up, so that they could be to school on time. Without the deadline I could let them get up on their own schedule. Conflict would be reduced.

There is a type of home schooling called unschooling. The theory behind it is that children are naturally curious. They are interested in new things all the time. The unschooling parent’s job is to provide materials and help for the children to pursue their own interests. Because the children are never forced to learn things that they are not interested in, they remain excited about learning and eventually they get around to learning all the educational skills they will need.

I love the idea of unschooling. I love the basic trust in the amazing nature of children. I’ve seen how it can work. My son Link did not learn to ride a bike for a long time. All my efforts and stress and worry did not overcome his fear. As he passed his 8th & 9th birthdays, I began to fret that he would be teased by his peers. But the spring when he was 10, Link just got onto the bike and rode. If I had just trusted him to get to it, I could have saved all that stress.

On the other hand, I remember that same Link at age two and a half. He was enrolled in an early intervention program because he was not talking. More than just not talking, he was not even understanding most of what was said to him. He did not even have the concept that pointing was a good way to indicate things that he wanted. I remember sitting with him in class. I had a cup with a black dot on the side. I dropped an M&M into the cup. Link wanted that M&M, but had no clue what I expected of him. I took his little finger and touched it to the black dot. Then tipped the candy into his hand. It did not take many repetitions before the concept of pointing clicked in his head. A whole new world opened up to him. Both our lives got easier because he was able to point out the things that he wanted.

Would Link eventually have learned how to point on his own without me taking his hand and forcing it to touch the cup? Perhaps he would have. Perhaps I should have just trusted that he would get there on his own. But leaving him to muddle through on his own when I could see something that would make his life better felt wrong. That experience taught me that sometimes my job as a parent means that I must require my kids to do things that they see no use for. When I do, I get to witness the moment when suddenly they get it. Their world becomes a larger place and new possibilities are opened to them.

Two days prior to the day when I scolded my kids off to school I was listening to a friend of mine. She was talking about her children and how September is the saddest month of the year because they go off to school. She loves having them home and misses them when they are gone. I looked around and other parents were nodding. Yes. Everyone silently agreed. This is how good parents feel about their children. My problem is that I don’t feel that way. I love my children, but I am glad to send them off to school. I am a happier, calmer person when I have regularly scheduled time alone. That way when they are at home I can give them more focused attention. It makes sense. I know there are other parents who feel the same way that I do. But I can’t help feeling that wanting your kids home all the time is a better way to be. It is a better message to the kids to say “I want you with me” than to say “I need to be away from you.”

I suppose the result is the same for both me and my friend. Our kids all go to school, but I’m happy about it while she is grieved. Neither of us debates the need for kids to be apart from us. There are lessons that kids can not learn if mom is standing right there. I tell myself that by sending them to school I am giving them the chance to stand on their own and to be strong. I treasure my quiet spaces in the day and try to make it up to my kids when they are here. Yet part of me worries that the home schoolers and unschoolers are more right than I am. That they are valuing their children more than I do by devoting themselves more thoroughly to guiding their children’s education.

On the afternoon of the scolding day I did my best to pay attention to each child. I handed out snacks, and listened to chatter, and mediated conflicts. Most of the conflicts included Gleek who is high energy and is working through some tangled up emotions right now. I watched her and remembered that I wanted to find a class as a useful outlet for some of that energy. She loves bouncing around and she loves music, so a dance class seemed logical. But the typical glam jazz or ballet class is not right for her. She isn’t a pink sort of a girl. Her favorite clothes are black. She needed something a little more quirky.

I went online to search for alternatives to jazz and ballet. The offerings were limited. I found an Irish Step class that met 30 minutes drive to the north. I also found an African Dance class that met 30 minutes drive to the south. Either one could be a very good thing for her. I stared at my screen, trying to figure out how I could make one of the classes work with everything else in our schedule. I tried to figure out whether the two hours per week strain would be worth the benefit for my child. Would it be an amazing turning point for her? Would it give her a focus that would make everything else easier? More likely it would become another scheduled deadline that I would have to herd everyone into meeting. Or it would be something we felt guilty about missing.

I stood up and stretched. I’d spent 40 minutes on the dance class search. During those forty minutes Gleek had come to ask things of me twice and been turned away. She had no idea I was looking up stuff for her. It was just mom on the computer again, so she had to get her own drink of milk. It struck me. Instead of spending the time looking up dance classes, what if I turned on music and danced with my daughter? What if I took those thirty minutes I’d spend driving her to and from lessons and instead gave that time to her at home?

In theory a class gives me a break while teaching skills to my child. The reality is that by the time I drive home from dropping the kid off I only have about 20 minutes before it is time to go back and retrieve the child. That space in the middle is not long enough to do anything but wait. The skills Gleek learns in a beginning dance class are ones that I am perfectly capable of teaching.

It was a beautiful epiphany. I could picture my daughter and I laughing and dancing with joy in a weekly shared hour. Unfortunately the vision foundered upon reality. I am already over scheduled and stretched to my limits. What happens when the dance time coincides with an older child’s homework crisis? What about the day when I’m so tired I’m ready to sit down and cry? Is the answer really to expect more of myself? I expect too much of me already.

I stepped away from my computer and looked down the stairs to where my kids were romping in the family room. I thought again about trusting my kids. Are all my efforts to parent perfectly a lack of trust that they’ll learn their own things at their own speed? Do they really need all the classes, and stressing, and running around that I do, or am I just sucking the joy out of our lives by pushing when I should be waiting? Is it my responsibility as a parent to decide what’s best and guide them through it? Do I give them space or draw them close?

At bedtime on the scolding day, I spoke with Gleek. She had a thing she was confused about. It was one of those issues where the answers are not clear cut. I told her that it was a topic which still confused me and so all I could offer were my thoughts without any real answers. Gleek’s eyes got wide and she said: “But I depend on you to tell me what’s right!”

Yes child. So do I. I expect myself to know all the answers. But I don’t. No one can. The best we can do is muddle through and make decisions based on the information we have.

My head is full of dissonances about parenting. It is hard. It is even harder when I see people I admire make different choices than I do. Then I doubt myself and I long for the ability to do things over. I can see the value in lots of opposing theories. I see value in both unschooling and in pushing; in keeping children close to home and in sending them out to grow; in scheduling lessons and in leaving time unstructured. All of these things can be either good or bad for a particular child. In fact they can change from one to the other as the child grows. The best I can do is try to quiet the noise in my head and feel my way forward one step at a time.

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Powerful writing

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I have been thinking about Doctor Who: The End of Time. I enjoyed it, but my enjoyment was in spite of the script rather than because of it. The show contains a climactic scene which is half full of an expository monologue explaining why the situation is deadly and unfair. The more I think about that scene, the more I see how much more powerful it could have been if it had just been set up properly. A little bit of ground work earlier in the script would have given all the information that the torrent of words supplied. Then the Doctor could have arrived at that moment wordless, fearful, and I would have been right there with him.

I love scenes where the dialogue is simple, but the meanings are subtle and complex. An example is the ending scene of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind when all the characters say is “okay.” It is only a single word repeated twice, but that one word implies acceptance, interest, love, a willingness to forgive, and a chance to start over. All those implications are created by everything that went before. It is all carefully crafted so that the scene can mean what it does.

I love it when a writer is able to put thoughts and feelings into my head without ever saying them out loud. I want to be able to do that.

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Children filming video

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My children have discovered the joy of recording video. We now have a series of short films featuring stuffed animals who shout dialogue while moving around too close to the camera. The quality of the video improves when the camera person is not also the puppeteer and the voice talent. But then we have directorial squabbles over camera control. Thus far they are content to just shoot the video and watch it on the computer. At some point we may have to venture into the wilds of video editing.

I’m pleased with these forays into film making. I like seeing Link engaged in creating things. I also like Gleek having something to do. We need things to do in January. The house always feels over full. I need to put some time and energy into supporting the amateur film makers. Perhaps I could help them craft scripts or provide a tripod so that they have the option of a steady shot to go with the shaky cam.

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Hoping for an emptier week

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In hindsight I can see that last week was hard. I was attempting to re-regulate the schedules and biorythms of four immature persons while simultaneously managing a work load that had heavy concentration requirements. A couple of the kids were also a little under the weather, which helped nothing. BUT the huge pile of beginning-of-the-year accounting is done. I completed the photo book that I intend as a gift at the end of the month. I even pulled together the layout for the Hugo reader pdf for the eligible Schlock book. (Longshoreman of the Apocalypse. Howard will be posting a link to it once he’s had a chance to approve what I created.) No wonder I burned out hard on Thursday and I’ve had something of an unfocused weekend.

I’m still seeking a good work/life balance. Since I am the one who assigns me the work, one would think it wouldn’t be so hard. Hopefully I’ll be more balanced this week.

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My travels this year

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It seems strange to me, but I have an “appearance schedule.” Really it amounts to a list of stuff I’m going to get to do this year. Take a look at the list and if you’re near one of the events, feel free to stop by and say hello.

At the end of this month I am going to go visit my parents in the California Bay Area. This trip is primarily for my Grandmother’s 90th birthday, but also for mine and my daughter’s as well.

Feb 11-13 LTUE the Science Fiction symposium on BYU campus in Provo UT. This is an excellent venue for any aspiring writers as it is filled with presentations and panel discussions about the process of writing and getting published. Best of all, it is completely free. Both Howard and I will be presenting along with a host of other amazing professional creators. This one is well worth your time.

April 30 – May 2 Penguicon in Troy, Michigan. This is a geeky convention which combines science fiction, fantasy, and computer programming. I really want to come and the only reason I can’t state my attendance as certain is because I have not yet arranged with relatives to take the kids.

May 28 – 30 Conduit in Salt Lake City. I’ll be attending this event solo because Howard will be off at Balticon. It is a solid convention with an incredible pool of proffessionals who will be giving presentations. I’ll probably be on a panel or two, but I’m not sure yet when or what they will be.

June a family vacation.

August 5 – 8 GenCon Indianapolis. Howard and I intend to run a booth along with Tracy Hickman. It should be a crazy/busy time. I’ll have a pair of my kids along for the adventure. We’re all looking forward to it.

And that is probably more than enough for one year. Howard has further events in September and November, but I’ll be waving him off and staying home.

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The naming of seals and other responsibilities

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I am currently participating in the very serious business of naming a stuffed seal. It has to be a good name, but it can’t end in the long e sound because most of his other stuffed animals have names that end that way. (Yoshi, stripey, etc.)

This activity is very much in keeping with how the rest of today has been. I told my tired kids that they would have to muddle through school, mentioning responsibility and such. Then I went home and went back to bed. I am such a hypocrite. I did not even take a timer with me to wake me up so I could get some work done.

Almost four hours later I woke to the sound of the telephone, but was too lazy to answer it. I eventually rolled out of bed and came downstairs to discover that Howard had cleaned up the kitchen and brought me flowers from Sam’s club. There was a note. I just about cried. Then I opened the fridge to discover that he’d also bought me guacamole. There was a second note.

I never did get around to doing any of the work things I’d scheduled for myself. I answered no email, shipped no packages, did no page layout. Instead I watched David Tennant’s final performance as The Doctor. (Tennant was excellent, but the script was lacking. There were a couple of good character moments though.)

I did locate enough responsibility to retrieve the kids from school and to require Link to do his homework. I even microwaved some chicken nuggets for dinner. Although that was late.

Now we’re doing bedtime and my son is writing in his journal. He wants to write a story about this stuffed seal, but the old name (sealie) won’t do because of that pesky long e sound at the end. Ah. He tells me he’s got it. The seal is named Faster. Bedtime may progress.

Perhaps tomorrow I can locate my misplaced motivation and sense of responsibility.

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No one meant for the evening to be hard, but it was anyway

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This is the second day in a row I’ve ended up weary and tearful over my kids. I don’t know how to help them. I don’t even know if I should be helping them or if I should be standing back and letting experience be a stern teacher instead. The issues aren’t major ones, just homework and kid squabbles. I fear major issues since these small ones hammer me so hard.

This is as much a part of my parenting experience as the happy days which are full of fun stories. It is an important data point for all those considering parenting or in the midst of their own parenting. I know that I’m good at parenting, or so Howard tells me. Some days I even believe him. But other days I feel like a failure.

Then I comfort myself with the quote from Mary Radmacher:

Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day which says “I will try again tomorrow.”

Edited to add: It is now thirty minutes later and things are much better. They always do get better, it is just hard to remember when in the midst of it all.

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That anxious voice inside my head

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An argument with a voice in my head after spending several hours working on book layout:

Time for a break.

But we’ve still got so much left to do. You’re on a roll. Why stop now?

I’m tired. I’m cold. My hands are feeling shaky. And all those rows of file names are starting to get tangled up in my head.


But this is important. It has to be done. The sooner it is done the sooner you can move on to the other stuff.

Yes. But it does not have to be completed today. I’m going to go take a bath.

The voice is quiet while I get up from the computer, have a bath, and then lay down to rest. Then it is back.

You have to pick up kids in an hour. What if you don’t wake up in time. You really should go back downstairs and get some more work done while they’re out of the house. Once they’re home you won’t be able to focus on work.

I have a timer set. It will beep and wake me up. All that other stuff is true, but the work can wait. The work is supposed to wait. I’m supposed to pay attention to the kids in the afternoon.

I then went to sleep, but the voice romped through my dreams making them feel restless. It plotted sneaking off to do work after picking up the kids, then it put that into my dreams. Defiantly, I kept sleeping until I heard the timer.

I really do have a lot to accomplish this month. All the things are important and I will feel much more relaxed when they are done. But pushing too hard and stressing myself only gets them done a little bit faster and it seriously impacts my enjoyment of life. I don’t need to run around in an anxiety driven panic. I just need to do some work every day until all the things are done.

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