i'm a winner and stuff

I have no idea what my 50,000th word was.

I have no idea when I passed the mark, though it was at some point near 12:30am on the 22nd. 

The one thing I do have a very definite idea about is the quality of my novel. Goodness gracious, a lot of it is bad. But thinking back, I can remember a few moments of brilliance. I can remember that I've fallen in love with these characters. That, at some point in the past twenty-five days, I wrote the heart of a novel.

And that's pretty awesome.

- Kyla Denae

perfectly laid plans

this post was originally written in the late months of 2010, just after I'd been accepted to go to China. I found it in one of my old notebooks, and liked it so much that I felt the need to share it. It's also rather relevant to my situation now, so that's nice.

I have  come to a realization: It doesn't matter what I want, God is going to blow my plans away.

You see, until recently, I had a plan. This November I was going to get a job. Next summer, I was going to maybe intern at CEF, though my thoughts mainly went along the line of maybe taking a summer off from money concerns, beefing up my bank account a little so I could buy a car and stuff. 2012 would come and I'd start fundraising for a trip to China.

Perfect, right? The most amazing balance of 'Jesus-work' and 'me-work'. Yup, just peachy.

Until God dumped this organization into my lap. It started innocently enough. I wanted to find a video of a Zambian praise song. Well, I found one...and a whole bunch more. Navigating to the webpage of this organization--Global Expeditions--I was thrilled to discover they had an opportunity for China. Great. You know, maybe as a survey trip in 2012...

no.

now.

or at least, next year.

2011.

you, china.

And there went my perfect plan.

So here I sit, contemplating massive mysteries. Mysteries like--"Why can't I have my perfect life?" (I'd be miserable), "Why now?" (because there's no time like the present), "How will I raise $4,000 in less than a year?" (Jehovah owns the cattle on a thousand hills. He has it covered) and, most importantly, "Why me?"

This one I've contemplated many times over the ten years my call has been present. I am a 5"7, redheaded, mayonnaise-white Texan who likes hot cocoa and hates dirt, loves culture but hates breaking out of her comfort zone...

I have to wonder...is God quite sure I'm the right one?

Someone once told me that God only calls those He knows are the ones for the job. God has something for me to do. I have no idea what, but apparently there's something. Even if that "something" is one soul, one life, one changed moment...well, that's enough for me. And in the end, God's plans always turn out way more awesome than mine do, anyway.

- Kyla Denae

is it really november already?

I knew it was November. I mean, obviously it's November. It's NaNoWriMo and stuff (which, by the way, is going swimmingly: I'm at nearly 17,000 at the moment, which pleases me greatly), and I know time is steadily ticking away, just like always, but...

but...

ohgoodlordit'snovemberwheredidtimego

It sank in today that I have two months and a week before heading to the Children's Ministry Institute.

That in two months and one week I will have to have 3,000 more dollars

That in two months and one week I will, to all intents and purposes, be all on my own

And I'm not at all sure how it got to this point. I remember first bouncing around the idea of going to CMI, this summer while at CYIA. I thought 'oh, I have plenty of time'. And here I am, six months later, not at all sure where my time went, or how I spent it, or anything. Is this how the rest of my life is going to be? Does time just start moving faster the older you get?

I sincerely hope not. Because that would kind of suck.

- Kyla Denae

day three

The first day of NaNoWriMo passed so fast, I feel like I hardly blinked (though that might have been a combination of fear of the statues that seem to be everywhere and those weird gaps in my memory...). I got about 5,000 words into my novel that day, dealing with near-amnesia, a head-jerking doctor, and a main character who insisted upon having a girlfriend.

Yesterday, day two, I didn't get much written due to an eleven-hour long shift at work. I still managed to get about a thousand words written though (and no, I totally didn't stay up until midnight to get there. Honest. Shh).

Today, I'm hoping to hit at least 10,000, and hopefully get a bit higher. In pursuit of that, the next few hours of my life will be filled with existentialist crises as I force Nate to figure out what's going on, a combination of music from Matt Kearney, Clint Mansell, and Murray Gold, and numb fingers as they work way too fast.

So while I'm doing that, I'm going to just paste this excerpt from my novel and run.

            His mom and dad were nowhere in evidence, though he could hear the sound of some TV commentator coming from the living room. Heading that way, he went into the kitchen to find himself a drink, only partly focusing on the tinny voice on the TV.

            Until, that is, it mentioned Doctor Kane. Rounding the corner, cup of soda in hand, he leaned against the wall leading into the living room and focused on the screen. A man, sitting behind a desk, was gazing seriously into the camera, the younger woman by his side nodding seriously as he spoke.

            ‘Doctor Herbert Kane, as we’ve said, has been one of the foremost experts in the new field of Neural Reprogramming, which is basically where the brain is taught, through some means both medical and psychological—we’re really not quite sure as to the exact process, too much mumbo-jumbo,’ the commentator gave a nervous laugh. ‘But the applications of this process, this operation, could be immeasurable. Apply it to, to criminal justice, to mental illnesses…’

            ‘You could literally transform the world,’ the woman chimed in.

            ‘Well, obviously,’ the man said. ‘Which is why Doctor Herbert Kane–’

            Nate turned away and headed for the stairs, unwilling to sit around and listen to them sing praises of a man he wasn’t sure about himself. Then again…whatever it was that Doctor Kane had done to him, it had ‘immeasurable’ applications.

- Copper Blood, WIP 2012 NaNoWriMo novel

- Kyla Denae