On Time

I would love to travel back in time. Traveling forward would be cool too, but back? I have a list of all the places in history that the Doctor and I are going to visit.

Yes, there is a legitimate, albeit mental, list.

This is actually a picture of me and the Doctor. I love wearing stripes, and mustard. I read every inch of the paper, religiously. I'm *almost* ginger in the sunlight (more of an Anne Shirley auburn, but I'll take what I can get). And some say I bear a resemblance to Amy Pond. Or rather, SHE bears a resemblance to ME. So this is actually a picture of us adventuring. Accept it.

However, I am currently lacking in the TARDIS department. I'm trying to be patient, but while the past isn't going anywhere, I'm not getting any older, and it can be very difficult to run down all those corridors at an advanced age. No matter. I love catching glimpses of the past, which is why my Google Docs account is a blimey beautiful thing.

Pretend it says "Google Docs" instead of "Police Box". Kay?

Some days, when that "inspiration train" I mentioned in a previous post is miles away, I like to leaf through my old stuff. It makes me smile, laugh, frown, blush, and think. I rediscover the best and uncover some of the worst. The best part is when I get caught up in my own story and think, "Wow! This is pretty awesome!" I'm not saying it happens often, but when it does, it's a pretty surreal experience.

I would just like to encourage everyone out there to save every last bit of writing they can. Will you regret writing some of it? You bet! I have these old notebooks from freshman year, full of snippits of a fantasy story I was attempting to write. The writing was horrid. I can only read tiny bits without turning twenty shades of scarlet. Do I regret keeping them? No! (Well, maybe a little. This sophomore kind of found my notebook and identified it... by my handwriting... OUCH.) Point is, old stories are a window to the past. Totally worth hanging onto.

In her book, Writing Magic, Gail Carson Levine writes:

"I used to think, long ago, that when I grew up, I'd remember what it felt like to be a child and that I'd always be able to get back to my child self. But I can't. When you become a teenager, you step onto a bridge. You may already be on it. The opposite shore is adulthood. Childhood lies behind. The bridge is made of wood. As you cross, it burns behind you. If you save what you write, you still won't be able to cross back to childhood. But you'll be able to see yourself in the lost country. You'll be able to wave at yourself across that wide river. Whether or not you continue to write, you will be glad to have the souvenirs of your earlier self."

So true. Unless, of course, you're Peter Pan. However, he has numerous other issues, including being mean and prideful. And that whole not wanting grow up thing? It really is his greatest pretend.
* Note: If you haven't read Peter Pan, you MUST. Let me know if you are: I will send you my condensed biography of the author, J.M. Barrie, so that you can understand how truly sad the story really is! Huzzah!

I love Thomas Kinkade Disney paintings. ^_^

While I go and try and suck some inspiration from my old musings, go compile a portfolio of your old work. It may help you in the future - or at least make your day a little brighter.

And please, if you don't know who the Doctor is or why I've posted a picture of an old fashioned police box, CLICK THIS LINK AS IF YOUR LIFE DEPENDED ON IT.