When I said I'm battling monsters, I meant that in many ways... the most literal of which is through a board game called Super Dungeon Explore. It's a dungeon-crawler full of fun and adorable chibi miniatures. It has a bunch of grammar and syntax problems, as well as some formatting issues, but it was so worth the money. It plays a lot like the game Jaron and I started making (which we're still doing, by the way--it's different enough to be worth it for us). And the miniatures have been really fun to paint.
That's the first one I finished, and it was a lot of work. I've spent ten to fifteen hours painting already, but I've only finished nine of them (out of more than fifty). Each layer takes two or three (or four) coats of paint, and the slightest twitch in my grip can undo that. It's already happened twice. Oh, and to give you an idea of how 'mini' the miniatures are, the base at the bottom is a teensy bit smaller than a quarter. Yep.
Of course, there are other monsters out there. Work is really stressful and exhausting and sometimes painful (say the scars on my arms). I really do love the kids I work with, and I love helping them to learn. But there are some things about the environment that have upset the delicate balances of their minds, and they're learning to do things that they should never do--like spitting on people and scratching them. And lying about things to their parents.
I'm kind of upset that someone could even think I would ever hit a child. Being angry makes me sad, not aggressive, and even if I ever felt violent (um, that pretty much never happens) I would take that out on a pillow, not a person. And never, ever, on someone's child, even if they scratch all the skin off my arm and bite me and spit in my face. Never.
Heavy sigh. And now for the last big monster this week--I've decided to get back to work on Tsirash. It's not finished, really. Things that I love about my characters don't come across in my writing. I've spoken with a few people about this, and I believe the exact words were, "your writing needs to grow up." As harsh as those words were, I knew they were true.
I think I got excited because being a published writer has always been my dream, since before I could read, and I felt like I'd accomplished something. I had hopes of leaving the school battlefield and working full-time on the ideas in this messed-up brain of mine. But there are things that I want to change, and so I've decided not to query any more. I have all the pieces of the story--but not all of them are in place. Some are missing, and an unfinished puzzle cannot measure up to the whole picture. I need to grow up, be a big girl, and stop justifying my jumbled writing. I want this to be all I feel it can be, and that means starting over again.
I won't drop the other writing project I'm working on until June, when I won't have to battle at work anymore. Then I can dedicate my whole self to Tsirash. My dream will eventually become reality--but today is not that day. I have to stay alive first, and when those basic needs (money=food+shelter) are met, then I can truly begin to live.
Well, monsters need slaying, and this Rachel needs sleep. Wish me luck. :)