How do you say…..?

I remember the days when I would read a book and come across a word that I wouldn’t know. Later as I got older I decided to keep a notebook filled with these words and their definitions. I would pore over them trying to figure how to use these words in everyday conversations. Eventually, I stopped doing this. I still come across words that I don’t know and still have moments when I am confused and will look up a new word, but I no longer write them down. In some ways my memory has improved enough to let me do that.

Yet, now I face another dilemma. Writing requires you to know how to say the same thing several times (especially when writing a novel) differently. So what should I do? I’ve decided that I will start choosing words and write a list of ways to say them differently. So basically I am creating a thesaurus. I will try to come up with 20 different ways to say the same thing. An exercise in being aware. Today’s word is:

Look

1. Glare                                                          2. Glance

3. Gaze                                                           4.  Stare

5. Survey                                                       6.  View

7. Regard                                                       8. observe

9. spectate                                                    10. Watch

11. Cast                                                           12.  Skim

13. Perceive                                                   14. Eye

15. Squint                                                      16. Inspect

17. Contemplate                                         18. Gape

19. Leer                                                          20.Study

There are more words that I could add to this list, but I want to start slow. Comment below your own favorite ways to say look!

 

Suddenly Free cont.

If you didn’t realize from the last post I came up with a tentative title for this. Right now I am calling it suddenly free. I usually don’t write in the present (I like writing romances that take place in the Victorian era. Call it a guilty pleasure), but for some reason these characters are walking around inside my head and they want out. I’m actually getting the urge to do this far more often than the novel I am currently writing (and have been writing for the last five years -__-). I’m trying not to question it though. I’m actually really interested in seeing  where this leads. Hope you enjoy this next part!

Matt had finished in the bathroom and was watching Julia from behind the wall as she locked the door.  Leaning forward  he shook his head,  silently kicking himself for causing the anxiety attack she was going to suffer through later. “Stupid Jerk” he breathed, as he ran his hand harshly down his face.

“Hey Julia,” He said aloud as he stepped through the doorway. She jumped as though being caught doing something wrong. He knew that she was ashamed of the new ritual that she had to perform. Pursing his lips, he looked at the kitchen quickly so that she wouldn’t know he had seen. “I’m really sorry about that, I left earlier for work in a hurry…I thought I had everything.”  He walked over to the kitchen, moving slowly, pretending that her reaction hadn’t been a big deal. Opening the fridge he changed the topic “Are you hungry? I was going to cook this ravioli recipe that I got from the work the other day.” He glanced over to were she stood silently, watching him warily. As though she expected him to turn into her attacker.

Julia was a beautiful girl, she had long dark brown hair that she kept up in a sloppy bun, her face was heart shaped with round cheeks. She had large, almond shaped, hazel eyes that were framed by long black eyelashes.  She had a wide mouth with full lips that had a natural pout. She was slim and taller than him by almost a foot and had curves that filled out even a t-shirt and jeans nicely.  She had golden yellow brown skin that made her stand out in a crowd. He stared at her as she leaned on her crutches, trying to determine if she would ever be the carefree girl she used to be.

“I’m not really hungry.” she mumbled as she continued to stare at him. He shrugged his shoulders and turned away from her. She looked so broken standing there in the middle of the living room. She was constantly guarded now and it broke his heart to see her this way. He grabbed a few items out of the fridge juggling them in his hands as he used his foot to close the door gently.

“So, what did you do today?” he asked as he unwrapped the ravioli dough he had made the night before. Her voice was soft as she stammered “I -I tried to go out the house today.” He paused in shock and then quickly recovered ” how far did you get?” he asked casually. Snorting, he heard the soft thud of her crutches as she began to pace, “not very far.” there was a pause. “I had the door open and I-I was standing in the d-doorway.” Matt looked at her and smiled encouragingly “Well, that was further than last time.” she slanted her eyes at him and scowled “Hardly, a reason to celebrate” she said frustrated.

Taking a trip

So, I have been thinking lately about how when I was younger all I wanted to do was go to England. (London in particular) I was obsessed with this place. (Still am.) As I got older my obsession grew. It didn’t help that one of my favorite book series (take a wild guess on what that was. Here’s a hint it’s about a young wizard) of all times took place in England.

Time passed and my obsession grew. Except now I just wanted to travel Europe. Cliched I know, but I am OBSESSED with their history. So it became that I needed to go to France, Italy, Norway, Denmark, Scotland, Ireland, England, SPAIN. My soul was being called. I NEEDED to go. I felt like I was living in the wrong place. Like I couldn’t really flourish until I had stepped off  a plane in one of these places.

I tried to make this come true last year, but as always something made me postpone. I am so afraid now that I have postponed it so many times through my life that I will never get the chance to go. I am so afraid that now that I have all of these other responsibilities I won’t be able to ever find the time…or money.

I’m trying not to be fatalistic about this. I mean I am only 27 so I still have time, but that is how strong this urge is! It’s as strong as the urges I get to write. So I am going to manifest this. Next year I am going to be in Europe. I am going to be there writing and living the culture. This has to happen. I am going to make this happen.

 

Summer streets

As the summer winds down here in the city, I can’t help but be glad. No I am not one of those fall lovers that wishes all the seasons away without having really enjoyed them, but I am glad that summer is almost over.

In a city where there are over 8 million people living here on a good day, I do find the city to be suffocating during the summer. The amount of homeless people increase making your time outside a little less enjoyable. Don’t get me wrong, I understand that not everyone has the ability to live in apartments.  I mean come on,  our rents aren’t for people making $40,000 or less a year. Our apartments aren’t for people with bad credit (because really your credit score should determine whether or not you should have a place to live.)

Yet, sometimes I can’t help thinking could there be one day, just one day, where I am not worried about running into someone who is going to harass me for money or makes me feel uncomfortable as they watch me walk away as though committing me to thier memories.

Their reactions to you range and as a new yorker you learn real fast that not all of them will be positive. It’s interesting for me to read articles, blogs, etc about New York from tourists who inevitably bring up our homeless and how shocker they were people weren’t acknowledging  them. I’ve always wondered where they were from exactly that they still had their rose-colored sunglassess on even though they had visited this great city.

We avoid the homeless because on our daily commute we can easily see more than 15  different homeless people(and that’s just out morning commute.)  In our neighborhoods we can easily cross paths with 15 different homeless people (and that”s not counting the regulars that are there rain or shine.) and this is daily. DAILY.

I want to let you in on a little secret, New Yorkers are tough, but we’re not that tough. We’ve all been there, where we’ve broken down and tried to help them. We’ve all been there, when the realization hit that they don’t want your help and they aren’t always accepting of said help.

I’ve been yelled at, followed, spit at, and put into situations that I would have rather avoided just because I wanted to help the homeless. Am I saying that all are like this? No. Am I saying that you shouldn’t help the homeless? No.

I am saying though, that before you  judge us New Yorkers take a minute to understand that we deal with homeless people far more than a tourist. Far more than someone who has just moved here. I am saying, that if we helped every homeless person we wouldn’t be able to pay our rent for our box that we live in.

I am saying that we are not oblivious to the homeless problem and it breaks our hearts. We help when we can, but we can’t always help and sometimes our help is met with such a negative reaction it puts you off from helping for awhile.

The summer is always the worst. Since it’s warmer they travel and sleep in areas that they don’t usually sleep in. They crowd the sidewalks some walking minding their own business, while other’s will be the aggressor.

As the weather cools of they start dispersing. Finding places to sleep with more coverage. As the summer winds down the sidewalks start to empty and you finally start to feel like you don’t  live in a city with 8 million other people.