NaNoWriMo 1: A Start

 

A Start

8/20/200x

Today I start this journal that my mother asked me to write and send her as emails. She said she looked forward to reading it. She wants me to send something once a week. That sounds doable. She said to write it like I used to as if I were writing to someone who didn’t know me or about my life that way she could tell more about what is important to me. She said the journals I wrote when I was younger on the island as a part of my home school education were really interesting and gave her some good insights into who I am and what I care about, and she missed that. But I stopped when we moved onto the mainland so I could go to high school. I got a social life and things became more interesting. That’s how I thought of it then. Now I think I would like to be on the island, my bare feet on the rocks, searching for driftwood and rocks to build with. Life is full of trade offs. You apply focus to one thing, you forget about some other things that you might have really cared about, but didn’t think about too much.

I don’t write very much these days. I suppose that will change now that I am headed for Riverwood College. I started out yesterday from the train station in B, where I have lived for the last 6 years. We, my 2 sisters and mom and I, lived in an old 3 bedroom farmhouse on a forest covered hill overlooking the University where my mother taught marine biology and other natural science courses. She also worked on the island sometimes continuing her project that she says will probably last the rest of her life. She seems happy with that.

I guess right now I am trying to catch up with the past since I have not written like this in so long. I wrote some papers in high school, but I generally did not put much of myself into them. I am more of a doer than a writer anyway.

I tried to find my other journal which was in a file on my computer, but when I tried to open it wouldn’t open on my laptop. I was able to get the first two entries that were in a different file, but it looks like most of previous literary genius is lost to mankind. Oh, well. Here is what I could salvage:

July 18, 199X

My mom is a biologist. She studies how animals and plants next to the ocean and in the ocean interact with each other. That’s how we ended up living on this tiny island.  Not like the kind of Island you see in the middle of city park ponds, but I know that only about 300 people live on this Island — that probably includes the seal population.

We were living in Santa Lucia while my mom was in school at the University of California, and she was about to be offered this great job with the University. But, my mom and dad started fighting, and mom says we gotta go because she got a job up north and my father was never going to be part of our family anyway. I know he was drinking lot, and he wouldn’t even let people know that we were his kids or that he was with mom. She was tired of that crap she said.

I have a sister who’s 8 and a pesty little squirt of a sister who is almost 6 and can’t sit still or stop making noise to save her life. Blenny is 8. The Squirt is 6 and a major loon. I mean, some people say that what happens before your born can make you act different after your born. I think it must’ve happened to her.

Anyway I know My Mom would rather have stayed in Santa Lucia. Even though she said this island job was a “great opportunity”, I know she only took it because she wanted to be away from our father. Heck, maybe he won’t even be able to find us on this lousy bit of rock. It’s hard to find even with directions and the ferry only comes twice a day.

Anyway I’m writing this because my mom wants me to practice writing by keeping a journal. She wanted me to start a few months ago while we were dealing with moving and all so that she could read what I wrote and help me to sort it all out. But, everything was so crazy that I couldn’t think of writing anything, besides her computer was all packed away, and I’m not doing this without a word processor. It seems like a lot to ask anyway. 2 pages a day. I haven’t even finished one yet and I’ve told my whole life’s story practically.

Mom said I could and should write whatever came into my head, but maybe trying to write about what happens in my life and how I feel about them would be the best place to start.

This is what is in my head now. Moving! I hate it mostly, even though it is kind of exciting in a way. I didn’t have to leave any real long time friends though I was kind of getting to know one kid about my age. He was 12 and I was11, but he was in the same grade even though I don’t go to school. I’m a homeschooler (the computer doesn’t know that word), but Robert went to school so we could hang out after school got out. Still we got along pretty good, and he liked to do the same things: go to the park or the beach and rollerblade (doesn’t know that one either), swim at the pool, play with his great dog, Bozo. Bozo was great at catching frisbies (another one it doesn’t know) and chasing down balls. He lived to chase things, but he always came when you called him. I had a stupid dog once. He would only come if you had something he wanted. He liked to run at you at top speed and pretend he was going to run you over and turn away at the last second and take off. He would take me on walks or drags more like. How much more to go? God! It takes a lot of writing to fill up two pages even when the font is big.

Let’s see, What happened today? We have finished most of the unpacking and arranging of everything. There’s three bedrooms and a living room and a kitchen that connects to it. There’s only one bathroom! And Squirt is always charging in ahead of me when I say I have to go. She just about knocks you down if you get in her way. Blenny is kind of quiet these days. She used to sing all the time, but I think this moving stuff is a lot (it put a space between a and lot) harder on her than me. She had a lot (again) of friends to leave behind and now she only has the Squirt. Don’t get me wrong the Squirt can be a lot (again) of fun, but Blenny seems to get tired of the constant sillyness. (the computer doesn’t know sillyness.) Me too! I can see the end of the page. It’s almost here and I am almost done for today. But, there’s always tomorrow and on after that. I guess it’s not so bad writing two pages.

July 19, 199X

My mom read the pages I wrote. She thought it was perfect. She said that even if she hadn’t known me and picked that up and read it, she would know a lot about me. Well, I did tell practically my whole life history. But, she said it also had to do with my voice, she says that writers have a voice when they write, and that mine was very natural. Whatever that means. She reads a lot so I guess she should know.

I like to read too. I read a lot of Ghost stories and Science Fiction and Fantasy. I also like comic books. All kinds like Batman and Mad magazine. I don’t get to watch much t.v. , because we only get two stations, and they are pretty much lame most of the time. My mom hardly ever watches t.v. , because she’s always reading and working which includes a lot of record keeping and typing on the computer. She is constantly writing reports to her supervisor about the project she is working on with him.

Blenny is a reader too. She is also a musician. She can play the piano pretty well, but all we could bring to the island was an electric piano, which she practices for hours at a time, but she doesn’t sing anymore. I used to like the songs she’d make up about stuff that happened. She was always making up songs about things she was interested in like gravity and animals. But, I have to admit it did sometimes drive me crazy when she would keep singing the same song over and over until I wanted to put my hand over her mouth. I don’t know if the Squirt will ever sit still long enough to learn to read. Mom says she lives in her own world and it’s constantly in motion. I’m hoping that she grows up soon before she hurts someone or herself seriously, but it’s always on accident even when she meant to do it.

I guess I should get to what happened today. I took a long walk down to the ocean (people call it the water here). There were no waves except when a boat went by. It’s like an endless lake not like the beach in California. The waves never stop there and the signs all say dangerous undertow swim at your own risk. In Santa Lucia you know the ocean is there all night because you can hear it over the cars and other noises crashing and hissing, and you can watch the surfers out on their boards riding the big ones. Here there are no big ones. The tide goes up and down. Sometimes when we get off the ferry the dock is steep because the water is so low, and the beaches, which are all rocks and pebbles are big. And sometimes the beaches disappear and the dock is almost flat. I didn’t notice the tides so much before unless it was very low or high. There are lots of purple and pink starfish on the rocks and little crabs that scurry under rocks. Blenny loves to pick up the tiny ones. They just sit in her hand and wave their tiny claws fiercely at her.

Mom says that we will be living here for a while, but when I ask how long. She says she doesn’t know exactly maybe a couple of years. I think maybe that will be a long while with no t.v. and no stores besides the little store by the ferry where everything (which isn’t much) is twice as expensive as anywhere else in the U.S.. But at least mom seems more relaxed without my father around. I asked mom if we were hiding from dad and she said no that she had work here and it paid well and we got housing free. She said that it was too good a deal to pass up and the work was interesting and she could be with us most of the time while she was working. I guess there aren’t many jobs like that around. Maybe if my dad weren’t such a jerk, she would be working in Santa Lucia at the University and I would be hearing the sound of the waves on the beach. I like sand better than rocks, and I like waves. My mom says that people travel from all over the world to come to these islands because they are so beautiful and full of wildlife and whales and stuff, but I just don’t get it. It never gets hot enough to swim and we have to ride the ferry 30 minutes to get anywhere and it only comes twice a day, and only 2 lousy tv channels. I am trying to get her to get a satellite dish but she says we don’t have the money and besides tv is death to brain cells. I do have boom box and my books. My mom says that I ought to look around the neighborhood to see if there are kids my age, but what are the chances of that. Boy, I guess I am feeling a little depressed about all this.

I remember this time pretty well. I remember being bored out of my mind, riding my bike all over the island and trying to find things to do. Then I discovered “My Beach,” and my friends Aria and Jonas, and we began our project. It turned out to be all right for the 3 years I stayed on the island.

The train is coming into a station, and I want to get out and walk a little. I will be in S in about 5 hours and will want to take a little nap before I get there. I will write more tomorrow about the college and my living situation.