I just read an amazing thing. Michelle did a Link Roundup post that led me to this:

What I say may be in a language incomprehensible, but there is a time for that, and it is right now, because this is a monster’s creed. It is for the cobbled-together, the sewn-up, the grafted-on. It is for the golden, the under-the-earth, the foreign, the travels-by-night; the filthy ship-sinking cave-dwelling bone-cracking gorgeousness that says hell no, I am not tidy. I am not easy. I am not what you suppose me to be and until you listen to my voice and look me in my eyes, I will cling fast to this life no matter how far you drive me, how deep, with how many torches and pitchforks, biting back the whole way down. I will not give you my suicide. I will not give you my surrender.

Quoted directly from The Seam of Skin and Scales. This post stopped my heart and electrified my spirit. It aligns itself perfectly with Catherynne Valente’s Monstrous Manifesto, for all that it was written more than three years prior.

I think there’s an incredible power in accepting who you are, with your thorns and scars, with your vulnerable underbelly and soft eyes. As soon as you accept who and what you are, as you are now and not in some ideal nebulous future, you can exult in your strengths and learn compassion for your weaknesses. As you would with your most beloved person, you can begin to treasure the faults and quirks that make you unique, rather than shunning them as obstacles in your impossible path to perfection.

And there is power in not being perfect – in not only accepting that, but celebrating it. There is power in being a monster and shouting it to the world, unafraid, unashamed, exuberantly imperfect (to steal an apt NaNoWriMo phrase). Reclaiming your identity – all of it, not just the pretty parts – removes the guilt, removes the unrealistic expectations, removes the pressure to be what you’re not. Things aren’t suddenly effortless, but they sure as hell get easier when you’re not fighting yourself along with all the rest of the world.

As for me? I’m quite happy to be a monster, crooked fang and briar-hair and all.

Kind of a weird thing to admit on a public blog to an audience, huh?

One of the cool things about the internet is that it enables me to socialize on my own terms. Because most interactions aren’t real-time, I can control when I reach out to others and when I take in their stories, and that majorly increases my sociability. Trust me, you don’t want to see me in a situation when I don’t feel like being social. I wind up silent and staring.

When I’m already interacting with a person, I’m golden. I’m not hard to get along with and I can usually get a good read on a person, so I can adapt to them. That bit’s fine.

The tricksy bits come up when I am not currently interacting with someone. I don’t like phones, though I use my cell as necessary. I don’t use any messengers at home. I don’t usually have email conversations (though I enjoy them). The only person I text out of the blue is my partner. I’ll respond to all of the above if someone reaches out to me, but I simply don’t initiate them myself.

Most of this centers around two facts. Primarily, I simply don’t think of it. It literally does not occur to me to contact someone unless something needs communicated, like when and where to meet for dinner. Secondarily, on the rare occasion I am reminded of social norms, I usually assume the other person is busy or occupied, and I leave it up to them to contact me at their leisure and convenience. It’s a measure of courtesy in my eyes to let the other person make the first move. (Note that this only applies to me, and I don’t consider it courteous or discourteous from another person’s POV towards others or myself.)

I’m explaining all this to point out that, consequentially, social networking is not my thing. Following a ton of new people at once on Twitter so they’ll follow me back and I’ll rack up the numbers makes zero sense to me. It clogs up my list so that I don’t see the tweets I really want to see, so I stop using Twitter if I do that, which defeats the purpose. I don’t use Facebook because it serves no purpose for me. Livejournal has been my home for years, and I have a great little home with my people there. (There are a lot of people who are LJ-only, I’ve noticed.)

Obviously, I’m not one of the guys who can “build readership” very easily. I have always preferred one-on-one interactions; I don’t talk to groups, I talk to individuals. My people are not a herd, they are persons. So, in working with this blog and being all publicky on Twitter, I am still reaching out to one person at a time, making connections and friendships the old-fashioned way, despite the new-fashioned medium.

Ultimately, I am trying to improve my ability to be social without playing the numbers game. I even de-lurked on two of my favorite blogs yesterday and said hi on a brand new one, which was a feat of willpower, let me tell you. Now that the ice is broken, I’m finding that I feel perfectly willing to be a vocal visitor to those places, instead of the face plastered to the glass pane, wistfully staring inside at the fireplace.

I kind of want to have a fireplace here, too – a cozy place for folks to gather, warm their hands, and tell stories. I’m not entirely sure how to make this happen, but I figured telling you that the door’s open, there’s room on the couch, and tea’s in the fridge might be a good place to start.

So, pull up a chair and share a story if you want. You’re welcome here.

So, a while back, I talked about being me instead of being perfect. I had made the internal decision some time before writing about it publicly, but what I said then still stands well:

It took me most of my life to realize that, if I wanted to be truly happy, I needed to stop trying to be some theoretical ideal and start being me.

I had to acknowledge that who and what I am, with all my quirks and flaws, is not a bad person to be. Instead of going against my own grain, I could strive to be the best me I could be. I had to realize that I’m not responsible for other people’s expectations and perceptions; I’m only responsible for my own actions, words, path, and happiness.

Acknowledging my imperfection, letting go of unrealistic expectation, and looking within to see where I wanted to go – not should go, but wanted to go – have made even the hard things possible.

I let myself believe that it’s not just okay to be me, but that I have a right to it, and I can step up to defend my right to be me, while letting myself be nebulous and transitory, mid-evolution between birth and death.

And the other day, much to my delighted surprised, I found out that I’m not the only one refusing the expectation and pressure of perfection. A lady named Brené Brown, who has a really pretty website, decided to start a week-long Perfection Protest. Complete with photos and signs.

And that’s pretty damn awesome.

I don’t have a photo of myself and a sign to post – at least, not right now – but I want to add my voice to the outcry that says we are enough. That claims who we are is unique and authentic and awesome. That demands no more outlandish expectations of an ideal that cannot exist in a dynamic, ever-evolving universe.

Because you know what? Imperfection is way more fun.

When and how did you find out about NaNoWriMo? How did it go?

I honestly cannot remember how I found out about WriMo, but I know it was in October of 2003. My first attempt at it was a success and an incredible mind-blower; I’d been a prolific writer before, but now I had proof that I could write 50,000 words in a month. How cool is that?

How many times have you done NaNoWriMo?

Seven times – this year will make my eighth rollercoaster ride.

How many times have you won? If you haven’t won, what was your best result?

I won all but one time. My loss in 2006 was due to having visitors from England in town for two weeks in November, and, as much as I love writing, I loved getting to spend time with them much more. I also didn’t have much of a muse that year.

How did it go last year?

Last year I wrote Ghosts in the Machines, a cracktastic novel about shapeshifting (nonhumanoid) aliens who get stranded on a planet not their own (by space pirates, of course) and encounter feral vehicles that are, apparently and illegally, ensouled. Ghosts is one of the incredibly few NaNovels that I actually finished in November, which was a fantastic triumph for me; I’m working on the rewrites now.

You can even read the first chapter here!

Where and with what do you write?

I can write anywhere, but I am not one of the more adventurous WriMos who writes out a lot – I usually write at home, or at the office if all my work is already done. I don’t write longhand – computers only, please, and usually Wordpad, as it has the formatting shortcuts without all the BS of Microsoft Word. I’ve also had years where I simply posted my WIP on my personal blog without keeping it in a file until it came time to submit it for winnin’.

How do you find time to write?

I do not lead a terribly busy life, so it’s not actually too hard. I write whenever I’m bored and inspired (or when I know I’m behind and need to catch up).

Are your partners, friends and family allies or enemies?

Allies, definitely. I get a lot of support and encouragement from everyone around me – along with the occasional incredulous “you’re doing what in a month?” reactions, which are almost as fun.

What are your strengths, and what do you use to help you get to the end?

Mostly? I type fast. 119 wpm accurately, though considerably less when writing creatively. Still, I can finish the day’s quota of 1667 words in under an hour; I can do 15 minute sprints and come up with some 700 words each time. Those sprints really make the difference when I’m trying to catch up (or make headway), ’cause I can manage between 15 and 30 minutes of solid, break-neck writing before my brain fries and I need to take five.

What are your weaknesses, obstacles and challenges that hinder you from finishing?

I am really, really lazy and inconsistent. Normally, I can make a running start in the first week, and then die off in the middling two weeks. I’ve written the bulk of my novel more than once in the last week of November, once even writing 17,700 words in one day. The middle of the month seems to be great for letting everything percolate in my head and less great for actually pumping out words.

Do you plot/outline/plan or do you write by the seat of your pants? How much have you plotted or how unprepared are you this year?

In the past, I have tried outlining, both detailed and vague, and I have flown by the seat of my pants before. I am definitely a pantser at heart; it’s the 19th and I have no idea what I’m doing this year, nor will I really get a bead on my direction until about three days before November. Some years will knock me in the head with an insistent and wild idea, which I’ll run with, and other years will have me logicking out my best choice for the month – and then years like this will see me twiddling my thumbs until I can’t twiddle no more and have to start typing.

Do you participate in the real life community and/or go to write-ins and meet-ups in your area?

Not really. I’m pretty much a hermit.

What are your writing aids? Special snacks, music, totems, rewards or punishments?

My most important writing aid is music; I am helpless and hopeless without it. Music fuels me, inspires me, directs me, and gives something for the other nattery bits of my brain to focus on. I’m also fond of pretzels and sweet mint tea while writing, though I try not to overindulge too much for fear of consuming nothing else all month. I don’t use punishments nor totems.

A few weeks ago, I stumbled across one of the most amazing videos/songs/poems/thingies that I’ve ever found. It’s called How To Be Alone, by filmmaker Andrea Dorfman and poet/singer/songwriter Tanya Davis.

This is one of the most inspiring things I’ve ever seen, and reminds me of all the things I have always loved about being alone.

There are two great events in November.

One is the well-known, well-loved National Novel-Writing Month, NaNoWriMo. Write 50,000 words of original fiction before midnight on November 30th. It is a mad dash into the fray of muse-fueled worldbuilding, characterizing, plotting, and type-type-typing.

The second is something I found just yesterday – National Solo Album(-Writing) Month. Write, perform, and record a full solo album lasting at least thirty minutes in one month. (The performing and recording bits are optional, but the site can host your mp3s should you wish to share them.) This is much, much smaller than NaNoWriMo, and similar to February Album-Writing Month (which tasks you to write 14 songs of indeterminate length).

I have been doing NaNoWriMo since 2003 and have won every year save one; I am certainly continuing the tradition this November! Whether or not I’m brave enough to try NaSoAlMo will be determined come November 1st…

I strongly encourage any and all creative types to participate in one or both of these crazy, wonderful challenges. It’s a wild ride and can really transform your view on and experiences in writing!

This post is meant to help you figure out if you’re one of my Right People – if what I have to say might entertain or help you, if you and I might be awesome friends. My blog is eccentric at best, and I cover a lot of seemingly-random topics, so it’s easier to gear this post at who you are, rather than what I’m saying. (If you just want to read up on who I am, check out my bio or a more unorthodox introduction.)

If you like to laugh and to think, take a walk with me.
If you like story-telling and music-making, you’re in the right place.
If you like figuring out how things work – including and especially yourself – pull up a chair.
If you are passionate about something you do, let’s exult together.
If you’re just a little bit left of center, we have something in common.
If stereotypes, fads, and judgment don’t have a place in your life, I already like you.
If you boldly celebrate your uniqueness, you are one of my inspirations, even if I don’t know you yet.
If you’re trying to be the best you you can be instead some well-made cookie-cutter, I’m right here with you.
If you like learning about new ways to think, while staying true to your own wants and needs, let’s chat.
If the natural world and science fascinate you, come geek out with me.
If you’re creative – in any way, shape, or form – you’re in good company.

If any of this sounds like you, pour yourself a cup of tea and look out the window with me for a while. There are shapes in the sun-dappled leaves that you might not have seen before.

Written by the indomitable Catherynne M. Valente for all the SJ Tucker-led Strowlers out there. Original post here, reposted because it’s beautiful and brilliant and right-on (and because she said we could share it).

If you are a monster, stand up.
If you are a monster, a trickster, a fiend,
If you’ve built a steam-powered wishing machine,
If you have a secret, a dark past, a scheme,
If you kidnap maidens or dabble in dreams,
Come stand by me.

If you have been broken, stand up.
If you have been broken, abandoned, alone,
If you have been starving, a creature of bone,
If you live in a tower, a dungeon, a throne,
If you weep for wanting, to be held, to be known,
Come stand by me.

If you are a savage, stand up.
If you are a witch, a dark queen, a black knight,
If you are a mummer, a pixie, a sprite,
If you are a pirate, a tomcat, a wright,
If you swear by the moon and you fight the hard fight,
Come stand by me.

If you are a devil, stand up.
If you are a villain, a madman, a beast,
If you are a strowler, a prowler, a priest,
If you are a dragon, come sit at our feast,
For we all have stripes, and we all have horns,
We all have scales, tails, manes, claws and thorns,
And here in the dark is where new worlds are born.
Come stand by me.

Day 30 is one last moment.

(Wow, that means I’ve actually written thirty posts almost every day in succession. Woohoo! My bloggy experiment is a success.)

J and I went to a Celtic session yesterday in a place called Squaw Valley, a touristy little ski resort area around Lake Tahoe. The sun was setting on the long drive home, and the tiny sliver of waxing moon hung long over the treetops. While J talked to his kids on the phone, I mused to myself how the moon had very little sunlight to share… then realized, no, that’s not it.

The moon always has half sunlight and half darkness; it just has differing amounts of light to share with the rest of the world, depending on the day. It made me think of the spoon theory and how folks’ spoons vary by day – sometimes everything gets done, and other times, it’s a Herculean feat just to get out of bed and get dressed.

And it wound up being put to music in my head:

We are like the moon:
equal parts shadow and light.
The only difference lies in
how we face the world each day.

Day 29 is my aspirations.

Now, an aspiration can be a desire or a goal, so I’ll choose two things where the definitions overlap:

I’ve talked a lot about making music in the past few weeks, so I’ll try not to further inundate you, but that is most definitely an aspiration. I don’t know where my efforts will take me – to recording MP3s at home, to local open mic nights, or to a simple mastery of and happiness in crafting music for my own enjoyment. The end result doesn’t matter right now – the journey, and the experience, do.

I’ve talked a bit about martial arts, but little in detail. I study Bujinkan ninjutsu with my partner, who is shodan (a first-degree blackbelt). My intention in ninjutsu is to also achieve shodan – not the belt itself, nor the certificate, nor the formal acknowledgement, but the physical and mental mastery. I want to know, kinetically and consciously, every technique; I want all the terminology and names memorized and comprehended; I want to be able to put together a response to every question and every move that works. I want to know my art so well that I can stop thinking about it and simply move, secure in the competency of my body and my muscle memory. I want to reach that ledge where I have learned enough that I can truly begin to train: shodan is only the beginning.

And, in time, with much more experience, I think I might like to help train others. My sensei in Colorado changed everything for me, and I would like the opportunity to be that transformative for those who seek it out.