I.
So I have lived here 21 days. Exactly three weeks, as of tonight. It's still surreal. And while I in no way regret my decision to move (and might I here add that I love this city), I feel kind of numb. Not entirely numb; no, I don't float around with a detached look on my face, nor am I apathetic. I feel more like I'm just existing on the surface of my life - like nothing affects me deeply. I haven't cried once, not even when I went over the Memphis bridge. I haven't been really angry; just frustrated maybe. I haven't felt lonely. I've been happy, but I haven't felt that really deep, true Joy. As a girl who fully embraces emotion, I can tell you that being numb is one of the most annoying and frustrating things in the world. Because you can see it, you KNOW you aren't feeling things you should be feeling, but you can't do a single thing about it. I mean, how do you make yourself un-numb? They have creams and gels and things to numb your skin and your teeth and whatever when you're in pain, but they don't have anything to make you start feeling sensation when you're numb somewhere.
What you need is a stimulus. So I've been trying to find something to stimulate me, something to get really passionate about. So far I haven't gotten anywhere on that. Sometimes movies help me out when I'm feeling numb-ish. Maybe I need to watch a deep film that has the whole range of emotions, something that's sad, frustrating, achingly funny, expectant, hopeful; it makes you want to throw something at the screen, clutch your belly in laughter, cry your eyes out. You know the kind of film I'm talking about: by the time the end credits are rolling you just feel completely human. It's crazy. I love those kinds of films. And they always have a badass soundtrack, crammed with good, Indie songs. I think it would be a pretty awesome job to get to get to pick out the songs in a movie.
Although, it's kind of a lame story to tell if a movie does the trick: "Oh yeah, [insert deep movie here] got me back into feeling life." I want something kind of daring to make it happen, something that will make a really good story. So right now I'm just getting back into the Word and seeing where that takes me. As my best friend wrote me earlier, "Christ will lift you out of the mire!"
II.
For years now my family has been asking me when I'm going to start writing my book. I guess it's no secret that I love writing. It's just my thing. I think I kind of lost sight of it in high school (my mom didn't though). I guess having to write endless academic papers about topics that don't interest you one bit can do that to you, although I very much loved my English classes and teachers; they made me the writer I am today. I still remember one time in my AP English class my senior year, we all had to read short summaries we had written to our class and get peer reviewed. After I read mine, my teacher (a beautiful, inspiring woman who seriously loved language and literature and coffee) said, "See, Sarah has this great dexterity with language...she's just not very clear." I remember mentally freaking out because my super cool, brilliant teacher had just said I was good with words...well, making them sound good at least, whether you could understand where I was going with it or not. Seriously if you had asked me that year who I wanted to be when I grew up, I would have said Ms. Eubank. (I guess if you asked me now I would just say I want to be Sarah, but that was high school and I was a little insecure and I didn't know how important it was to want to be yourself.) In high school I was always thinking I was a bad writer, because everyone said I used cliches too much and my stuff was lacking in substance. I guess you could say I've always been more on the artistic side of writing. I just didn't know that it was a good thing back then. I can't write you an in-depth literary analysis of Frankenstein, or compare the transcendentalists to the romantics with strong textual support, but I can write about life and faith and my experiences in hopes that you can glean a little understanding or strength or at least some laughter from them.
I always wave my family off, knowing what they're expecting is some great novel to come spilling out of my brain onto paper and get published. I tell them, I can't write fiction - I'm too ADD for that. I tell them I'll write a collection of essays instead. I mean you can't just start writing a novel and expect it to be meaningful and coherent and have a clear storyline; you have to have a plan. You have to know who your characters are and where they're going and what they want and at least a general idea of how you want it all to end, otherwise all you get is a jumbled up complexity of ideas and literary devices, a beautiful enigma. Lately though, I've been kind of enticed by the idea of writing a novel, of making up my own story and themes and characters and fully developing them over a span of time, not just writing a little snapshot about them. It sounds delicious. Although I don't really have any clear ideas as to what kind of story I would write. But I think I've taken the bait. Who knows, a novel just might come spilling out of my brain onto paper one of these days...
III.
So I guess I'm kind of on this journey kick. Or, rather, a books-about-journeys kick. Currently I'm reading On the Road by Jack Kerouac (FINALLY) and Everything is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer. I'm even thinking of picking Searching for God Knows What by Donald Miller back up and finally finishing it, just to continue the theme. I've been meaning to read something by Kerouac for basically forever now. The staff review of it at my favorite bookstore basically said you can't call yourself American if you haven't read On the Road. I guess I'm finally on my way to becoming an American. But really, I agree with the sentiment because it's a completely American journey in all the good ways - the free-ness and diversity and exploring all the vastly different areas of the country, just drinking it all in. It's romantic, really (not the love kind; think nature, emotion, beauty), just a regular guy, a writer, searching for himself. I've never wanted to jump in the back of a truck with a bunch of guys all hitchhiking for one reason or another with just a bottle of whiskey to keep me warm (Okay, lose the whiskey. Whiskey just doesn't taste good.) and ride clear across the country under the stars more in my life. I mean seriously, that's what Kerouac will do to you. You should read it.
As for Everything is Illuminated, it's so weird in all the right ways. That is, if you're like me, and you like really unique narrators and appreciate language and style as much, if not more than, the storyline. I've only read a few chapters and I'm head over heels in love with Jonathan Safran Foer's odd, all-over-the-place style. Just read the first page to understand.
I'm glad I waited to read both of these books. Otherwise I'd be trapped in Memphis, wanting to get out, wanting to explore, wanting to be free. As it is, I'm in a new place and my life is open in front of me. Seriously, my schedule is completely free for the next several months. That is all at once an intoxicating and daunting feeling. My favorite.
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