Amy Sedgemore
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Somethings You NEVER Forget. The Big One.

12/30/2015

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So as the West Coast was winding down for the night, myself included. I was sitting in my living room when suddenly, my cat, who was sleeping on the window sill, scrambles/falls off of the sill and darts through the apartment. I'm looking around wondering what startled her, and looking in the direction Carly took off in, wondering what got into her when suddenly it hit me. It's not just someone stomping upstairs, or a semi-truck clamouring up Willingdon, NO. My livingroom is shaking. Holy shit. It's an earthquake! 
And as soon as that realization struck, it was over. I sat frozen, stunned, on my couch weighing weather or not I should get the heck out of here. Here being the ground floor/basement of a 40+year old house. Last thing I feel up to, is testing my personal durability beneath something like a ceiling caving in. And, moments later, with a half shrug, I took to Facebook to check in and see if it was just me (meaning: an ACTUAL earthquake), or not. 
Soon after I posted my exclamation about it, the posts were pouring in. Yes, West Coast had a 4.9 earthquake that struck about 45 kms beneath North Saanich on Vancouver Island. 
Thankfully from what I can gather, minimal to no damage or injuries.
On the West Coast, in high school and elementary school we not only do fire drills, but Earthquake drills as well. To prepare for the ever elusive yet extremely daunting 'The Big One.' The predicted 9.0 Earthquake we've been 'bracing for' for about two decades. Needless to say when something like tonight's occurs, it leaves us all a bit shaken up. ;)

For me, this one didn't affect me like the earthquake of 2001. I was standing on the skytrain platform at Joyce Skytrain station in Vancouver, which crossed over Joyce Street. While waiting for the train, I'm looking up the hill at the extreme swaying of the street lights, thinking to myself: it's not windy out...? And moments later the platform I was standing on lifted up and slammed back down. A rolling earthquake (which, I now can say, is quite different from the shaking, rumble...just like the teachers told us way back when!). Needless to say, everyone froze. There was nothing to hold on to. No one was sure if we should stay UP on the platform, or run downstairs and effectively be BELOW the platform. My feet were glued in place long enough for the world to pick up and carry on as if a 6.8 earthquake hadn't just shook through our city!
(Nisqually Earthquake: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2001_Nisqually_earthquake)

And, then the skytrain pulled in to the station, and everyone went on about their days. 
I have never forgot that moment. And tonight watching people's reactions to this earthquake, commenting about their first earthquake, I sadly, can remember what that felt like and relate. It left me unsettled, as I'm sure many of the 'First-timers' also are. It's a great reminder of just what our great and powerful earth can do. I am grateful that this evening didn't leave rubble in it's wake. Just a lot of uneasy west coast-ers likely not going to fall asleep anytime soon. 

And as all of us who grew up with those familiar warnings might be thinking, that we are hoping this was just the plates responding, reacting and resettling after today's earthquake in LA...and not any pre-cursor to the Big One. As I for one, am hoping my 2001 6.8er is as high up on the Richter scale I go. 

Signing off for now, Stay safe friends! 
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Breaking the Habit, One Page at at Time.

12/7/2015

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                                84809 words. 207 pages.
     I've been writing for about two decades. When I started writing fiction, the muse was so inspired, I was writing at least three stories at once, anywhere, anytime. At work, on the bus, at the mall, waking up overnight to write in the dark, just to get an idea out and not miss it. It was crazy. And exciting! And, exhausting too. 
     'Back in the Day,' I even had readers online who encouraged me with their eagerness for more and praise of my stories and characters. It was their positive feedback that steered me into college for creative writing classes, which I LOVED. 
I met amazing people, learned invaluable tips and skills, and also received great constructive feedback from my classmates and professor. 
     At that time, I was writing Utter Chaos, Like it or Not, and Not In This Lifetime/Another Day In Paradise. These stories are 90-98% completed (and sans vigorous editing passes). I also have ideas for about a dozen other stories. It wasn't long before I realized that, I can come up with countless story ideas, and write until my hand falls off, but somehow my feet become trapped in cement and I am standing motionless. For reasons I still can't quite grasp, I couldn't wrap up a project in a nice, pretty bow. This has been my problem for almost fifteen years. 
     In the few years since transitioning back to land after my life at sea as a youth counselor on a cruise ship, and dealing with a few massive life-size curve-balls, the muse began to once again throw out new story ideas left right and centre. Suddenly I had three new stories vying for attention. I remember saying to my best friend, how unbelievably tired I was feeling. She replied: "Well, yeah. You pretty much have two full time jobs." I considered that for a moment and realized she was absolutely right. I was working full time at the rent paying day job while writing nearly around the clock and somehow still finding time to socialize if possible. No wonder I was exhausted!
Still, being tired and being unable to cross that ever evasive finish line aren't exactly the same thing.
     Tumble Into Me quickly became the story I knew I had to see it through to the end. It's fiction, of course, but it means the most to me, because I dedicate it to my mother. After losing her to COPD, I found I was able to write through some of my grief, turning it into a heartfelt story that I was truly invested in and I HAD to see this through to the last page.
     And yet, that familiar brick wall positioned itself in the middle of my process on a handful of occasions. One of which was so imposing, I didn't even open my laptop for months! I used my breaks at work to complete anything important online, and stayed connected via my smartphone. I couldn't so much as glance at my manuscript. 
     Soon, I began feeling super upset about that. I was so committed to seeing this one to the end, and yet I couldn't bring myself to put another word on the page; nor to edit another sentence. I figured I was just mentally drained from staring at the manuscript for months <read: years> on end. As it persisted, I knew my age-old problem had resurfaced. 
I wondered if I reached the








   






     I wasn't happy about it, and the longer it nagged at me, the more I realized that I couldn't let it win this time. So instead of staring at the scene I had been stuck on for what felt like eternity, I started back at the beginning, re-reading the story I thoughtfully constructed. I felt proud of the words on the page; of the characters I'd created and the more I read, the more recharged and refocused I felt. This time, when I reluctantly reached that snag, without time to consider the two parts of this story I desperately needed to connect, words seeped out of my fingers tips onto the page. Suddenly the scene I thought I'd never create, seemingly wrote itself, perfectly connecting the first two thirds of the story with the last segment. As soon as this happened, I knew this was it. I was finally going to finish the damn book! 
    It felt so damn good! SO good, in fact, I went right into participating in the Pitch Madness Twitter Pitch Party and pitched my heart out. As I type this now, I'm still in disbelief at the amount of interest I had this time compared to March. A landslide of a difference, to be frank. And, as usual, tears instantly prickled my eyes. I know I couldn't have reached the end of this story, without my driving force, my motivation and inspiration, my mom. But not being able to share these exciting moments of a budding author, is really difficult. I miss her so much and hope in the not too distant future, to share these stories with you in dedication, and in memory, of her.
     For those of you feeling stuck, in your story, or in life...just like that kindergarten Bear Hunt song suggests: If you can't go around it, and can't climb over it; sometimes the only thing left to do, is climb through it.
     Is there a habit, in writing or otherwise, you'd like to break in the fast approaching new year? Please share. :)
                        Here's too conquering walls - one brick, and one habit, at a time. 

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    Stargazer. Daydreamer. Aspiring Romance Writer.

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