Tag: writer’s life

NaNoWriMo2022: End of Week One

Alina H. Hansen Writer & Poet

With a finger of Haku vodka and the rest unsweetened cranberry juice, I type away on my laptop while taking periodic sips of my simple homemade cocktail. It’s supposed to rain, pour today really, but there’s not a whisper of raindrops yet.

I just finished lunch, steaming hot rice topped with tuna and mayo mixed and a sprinkling of Tajín. Is this what happens when you get older, your taste suddenly evolves, and you crave absolute bitterness and savory flavors? I’m not sure. But I am sure that the end of week one of NaNoWriMo went unexpectantly well for me.

For October, I’d been writhing with anxiety, unsure what my upcoming novel would be about. But now, with only a few thousand words down and a fuzzy picture in my head, big surprise, it’s gonna be about witches.

It’s easier than I thought to create something from nothing. The ideas that flow in the back of my head take on an existence of their own. Without careful planning and the millions of compartments that occupy the space between consciousness and my imagination, the hideaway desk that is my mind would be a wreck.

Besides taking an hour to two hours a night to scrap together the minimum word count (or more, if I’m willing), I’ve spent most of my time reading. For the first time in over two years, I have enough time to read and read more.

A Deadly Education (The Scholomance #1) by Naomi Novik

No Nature: New and Selected Poems by Gary Snyder

A Court of Wings and Ruin (Book #3) by Sarah J. Maas

I’m gravitated towards Fantasy recently and slowly spinning around poetry as usual. Nothing changes. This is far from unusual for me. And sadly, with Halloween 2022 now over, I’ve got the rest of San Francisco’s mild yet wet Fall/Winter to look forward to.

The fog hangs low, and there are dead leaves strewn on sidewalks and streets here and there. Walking through Chinatown, the Transamerica Pyramid often comes in and out of view as I walk southbound on Stockton Street. On most days, a good portion of it is hidden by the fog; on others, the soft lighting and bright colors of the century-or-so-old buildings in the forefront create a pleasant contrast.

Yes, there are days when it feels like I’m walking on a Bladerunner set sometimes, and other times, I get the sense that I’m traversing through a mystical city hanging in the balance between the sea and the rest of the land mass that is North America. Somewhere in between, close but also far away.

There’s plenty of inspiration to go around this city and more than enough details to invigorate a fledging novel. Dead baby sharks for sale on a street corner, pigeons with one foot or crumpled toes hoping in the gutter, a white cat in the window of an herbalist shop, hanging roasted ducks…I could go on forever.

Are you participating in NaNoWriMo this year? I want to hear from you. You can connect with me today on nanowrimo.org ~ my username is alinahappyhansen 🙂

Want to get a feel for my novel?

Below you’ll find a link to my WIP’s Pinterest Board visuals and the playlist I’ve been listening to as I write.

Vincent’s Collection of Mystiques ~ Pinterest Board

Spotify Playlist ~ This is Pensees

If you’re participating in NaNoWriMo, I wish you the best of luck!

Poetry: Expectations vs. Reality

Alina H. Hansen Writer & Poet

Poetry: the expectations vs. reality has blown my life to bits. As a kid, I dreamed of being the complicated heroine I adored in my books. Spending hours reading and writing my own stories full of monsters and the maybe-good-maybe-not people who’d either side with a monster or kill them with a flip of a coin. Poetry never crossed my mind. Like I’ve said before, I thought it was some high-brow antiquated form of writing that was beyond my ability to understand.

picture of an opened book with a dark background used for "poetry: expectations vs. reality"
Photo by Victor on Pexels.com

From Novels to Poetry: How Expectations Changed with Reality

But I didn’t realize then that words had something else to give, that poetry would consume me and enliven my soul. Now, I gladly spend my nights pouring myself an ice-cold glass of gin so I can loosen my brain just enough to untwist the words I’ve wrung in my mind all day, hoping that if I do, a poem will tumble out like a rockslide down a mountain.

Poetry: expectations vs. reality? It dropped into my life more than a decade ago and made it even more hellish.

Read some of my poetry HERE.

Growing Up to Find Out I’m a Poet

As I got older, I still lost myself in books. Flipping back and forth between Majors in College, I was torn between music, art, and writing. The words won me over, but honestly, I think I’d still have an unhealthy obsession if I’d chosen one of the other two. And they both still thrive, resurfacing when I get the itch to express in a different medium.

But soon, the expectations I had about what I was going to do would come crashing down thanks to reality.

I used to be a kid haunted by ghost stories, urban myths, and monsters I reckoned were just undiscovered species. Naturally drawn to the darker elements, I found myself enthralled with creatures that represented so much more than just embodied nightmares; they represented society’s fears and tensions between ideologies of the repressors and the oppressed.

Now, I’m haunted by poetry, words, and the invisible threads of communication between us that make life richer and sometimes disastrous.

photo of opened book on white cloth used for "Poetry: Expectations vs. Reality"
Photo by Sofia Alejandra on Pexels.com

How Does This Relate to Poetry and My Expectations vs. Reality?

As a poet and writer who’s dabbled in everything from short creative non-fiction to writing a full-length novel, I’ve realized that my expectations were never going to match reality. It was never going to be straightforward.

I thought if I was going to be a writer, I’d either only write short stories or only write novels. I was confused when reality hit, and I knew I was also a poet.

Can I be a poet, too, on top of it all? Why not?

Why not write whatever I want and play with words inside and outside genres and forms. That’s what art is in the end; playing with tools that either create or destroy, wondering if something slightly different will slink out of the water. And sometimes fashioning your own tools that spin the bottle on its head.

Interested in browsing my blog posts about fiction writing? Go HERE.

bunch of small flowers on a book used for "Poetry: Expectations vs. Reality"
Photo by Wallace Chuck on Pexels.com

Poetry: Expectation vs. Reality

I never thought I’d like poetry, and it never crossed my mind that someday I’d be a poet. 

The Reality of Being a Poet

I’m neck-deep in poetry books and obsessed with forms. I’ve acquired too many notebooks full of collected phrases and odd words. They glow on the pages like carefully collected paint samples, glossy and matte, in thousands of different shades just waiting to be chosen.

I can’t wait to try new words and create a fresh or dark vision from the scraps I’ve collected over time. Dictionaries and thesauruses have become troves of tools. I can’t get enough of discovering a new symbol that holds a piece of human experience, ready to be reconfigured into a unique mosaic of form and meaning.

black and white book business close up used for "Poetry: Expectations vs. Reality"
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Takeaway: I guess life is pretty surprising (when you find out you’re a poet).

Poetry has taught me that words are the most powerful tools on the planet. They can help create civilizations and destroy them. They can connect people and be used as weapons to harm and kill. Following the roots, to write poetry is to be human, to desire a connection with others over shared experiences. To feel the bright burn of emotions and thrive in them.

Poetry: Expectations Dashed by Reality

I’m still not sure sometimes if I can hold my grasp on poetry and if I can keep creating and playing with words with the same fervor that I’ve had for more than ten years. But that’s okay. Because it’s not supposed to be simple or easy; it’s poetry.

Find me elsewhere ? or learn How to Come Up With Ideas for Poems in 3 Easy Ways!

Poetry Practice: Word of the Day “Dreary”

Alina H. Hansen Writer & Poet

Poetry practice: create a list of words with a theme, pick a word of the day and write an impromptu poem. For today, I have chosen “dreary”.

raining in the city
Photo by Josh Hild on Pexels.com

Dreary eyes scan a sunless airspace.
Gray clouds suffocate skyscrapers.
A drizzle of rain slicks cement, steel, and glass.
Cityscape comprised of pulverized dreams.

This practice is used to push the boundaries of a poem. Have a word suggestion? Leave a comment below.

Alina on Patreon: Debut Poetry Reading and Writing Discussion Podcast

Alina H. Hansen Writer & Poet

Originally published on my Patreon page (Public-Access) on May 28 at 1:43pm
Debut Poetry Reading and Discussion 5/28/2020

 Downloadable Link of Audio: Debut Poetry Reading and Discussion May 28, 2020.m4a

This is a taste for what’s in store for my future Patrons!

In this Reading/Discussion:

  • I read poems from my Poetry Reading set list at Central Book Exchange on September 27th, 2019.
  • I talk about how I write my poems: revision techniques, poems that are really poetic prose, or the beginnings of creative non-fiction personal essays.
  • I talk about the Utah Arts Festival, my poetry reading as a Literary Artist this year was postponed due to the spread of COVID-19 until 2021.

Link to my Poetry Reading at the Utah Arts Festival June 2018: alinahappyhansenwriter.com

Link to CBE Poetry Reading: Patrons-Only Post  or Blog Post Public-Access

I’d like to thank Central Book Exchange again for hosting this event and allowing me to read my poetry, Thank you so much! I hope you are all doing well and staying safe! I miss coming in and browsing for Poetry.

CBE on Facebook

Poems I read from the set list: 

Poem: blue jays flinting 

blue jays flinting from tree to tree

Electric blue feathers, screeching at dusk and sunrise

everything’s dying, everything’s dead.

OREGON COAST 2019

California Turkey Vultures

Kings

Chinooks

Hatchery

Fin-clipped

12lb braid, Mitchelle reel

The hundreds of white-ghost bodies of half-dead jellyfish

Floating, drifting through the cold pacific water

The rush of waves against the beach, upturning broken shells,

The cream crest of the waves, folding over, clashing with each other

A discarded empty beer bottle nestled in the exposed roots of a tree

Lonely elders, spilling their lives, when provoked, to any stranger.

Anyone who shows an interest.

The slick black body of the eel that swam to shore, weaving in and out of the floating seaweed

Disappearing under the massive stone I stood on

My hands wet from pulling off seaweed tangled on the hook of my lure

The azure water changing color with the currents, low-tide-high-tide-my-tide

The gray-black ball of baitfish swimming near the surface of the water, ripples when they jump and swim close to the surface, chased below

Poem: Teeth To Ear (originally published on alinahappyhansenwriter.com)

Teeth to ear 

words open and close

lips move, no sound

a gasp, escaped sentences

jump from teeth to ear

wide eyes to fists hitting flesh.

Wreck and Passenger

Nestled on a riverside

a minutes drive from the ocean

a sailboat heavy with age and time          Erodes

sailless mast, a ribcage

day-in-day-out

I am passenger

in my dad’s vehicle

we are fishermen and campers, here, in this minuscule town on the Oregon coast

his vehicle purrs, its roundish body coffin-like, bubble windows close me up

in his submarine machine

we drive over the bridge

a slight incline

to decline

day-in-day-out

we drive back and forth

over the bridge

into town for McDonalds hamburgers, for lures, for breaks between fishing

I look at the sailboat wondering if it is an abandoned dream or once a living token of memories

I am passenger

the day we drive over

the bridge

(into or out of

town I cannot

remember)

my Dad booms-arm-out-finger-pointing

“Look! The sailboat sunk!”

and I look and

the sailboat

is sunk

into

the river, the mast at an angle, an arrow

pointing

down

from

the

sky

Dad talks, says, it’s unusual, “boats don’t just sink—someone got pissed off,” and

that makes sense but doesn’t

it also makes sense

that the water ate up the boat, or tried to, stuck in its throat

I am a passenger

and we drive over the bridge

day-in-day-out

my eyes linger on the boat’s crippled body, until

one day, we see ropes attached to mast-and-bone-and-wood,

a spider’s tight gossamer, webbed, and pulling

dragging the wreckage of this maybe-dream-maybe-token-of-memories

up out of the waters throat

I am passenger

in my father’s land-submarine dispirited for the resurrection of this wreck

a watery grave, even partial is better than crucifixion by time, a wooden corpse forced to rot

in view of all passerbys and passengers.

Thank you all for reading and listening to my words, my poems, it means everything to me. I deeply appreciate your time and consideration. 

Stay safe and stay healthy!

Xoxo, 

Alina

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Life During COVID-19 (5/28/2020): Writing to Stay Sane

Alina H. Hansen Writer & Poet

I’m struggling. To stay positive, to keep it together.

I’m checking the news only twice a day now. Once, while I have breakfast and right before I go to bed. I think this practice has helped, and I’ve read about it frequently when it comes to managing stress levels about COVID-19.

But I don’t necessarily feel stressed out about COVID-19. Yes, I am concerned. I wear a mask when I go to public places like the grocery store, the only public place I’ve gone to besides Target since Mid-March. I am more worried about the next six months, the next year. I am concerned about how my life’s going to be by May 2021.

Every time I feel like I’m drowning in worry, in doubt, I have to stop and take a moment. I have to reaffirm to myself that I have to keep going, I’m not one to throw in the towel and give up. And I’m definitely not going to wallow in despair. My coping mechanism is to take action: do something. I have to. But right now, I don’t think I’m doing enough. And coming to terms that the illusion of control creates a false sense of security is my biggest problem. I am more aware now than ever that I have no control over anything, and the smartest thing I can do is keep going.

What does all this gibbering lead to? Writing

It’s all I have. It’s all I’m doing right now to stay sane. I have to write. I need to write. Writing is my anchor, keeping me right where I need to be, somewhere between my usual, level-headed, rational self and creative combustible artist.

I have regularly completed my daily goal of writing a minimum of 1,000 words a day. I recently took a crack at editing My First Novel, my first attempt over three months. I’ve been overwhelmed, let down by myself, putting my novel on the back burner. But now I have a renewed drive to finish my recent revision.

I am currently doing line-by-line edits. Revising to the structural core of my novel. Something I’ve found daunting the last year. I have tried to keep track, but I think this revision is number 6 or 7.

Completing my daily writing goal, writing half-baked poems here and there every day, and working on my novel has kept me grounded. And I’m tightly hanging on to my writing practices, the only thing that I find therapeutic and comforting during this strange time.

I don’t know what the future holds. I can’t waste time speculating. I have to take it one day at a time.

And every day, I am grateful. I think about how lucky I am to have a roof over my head, food in the kitchen, and my health. I am thankful that no one I know has died from the virus, chances are small, but it can still happen.

All I Can Do is Keep Writing

What have you been doing regularly during the COVID-19 Pandemic to keep you sane and grounded? Have you just started a new practice or hobby? I wanna know.

Besides writing, I’ve been baking like crazy, just like everyone else. I’ve revamped my Patreon page with content only patrons have access to. I’ve created a Facebook business page for my blog, started a Literary Internship for DLG Publishing Partners, and tried to make art and create music.

I want to know what you recommend. What you’ve found to be helpful. And I’d love to start a conversation with you. Feel free to leave a comment or contact me directly.

Stay safe and stay healthy, and to other writer’s out there, keep writing!

Cheers!
Alina

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I’m struggling. To stay positive, to keep it together.

I’m checking the news only twice a day now. Once, while I have breakfast and right before I go to bed. I think this practice has helped, and I’ve read about it frequently when it comes to managing stress levels about COVID-19.

But I don’t necessarily feel stressed out about COVID-19. Yes, I am concerned. I wear a mask when I go to public places like the grocery store, the only public place I’ve gone to besides Target since Mid-March. I am more worried about the next six months, the next year. I am concerned about how my life’s going to be by May 2021.

Every time I feel like I’m drowning in worry, in doubt, I have to stop and take a moment. I have to reaffirm to myself that I have to keep going, I’m not one to throw in the towel and give up. And I’m definitely not going to wallow in despair. My coping mechanism is to take action: do something. I have to. But right now, I don’t think I’m doing enough. And coming to terms that the illusion of control creates a false sense of security is my biggest problem. I am more aware now than ever that I have no control over anything, and the smartest thing I can do is keep going.

What does all this gibbering lead to? Writing

It’s all I have. It’s all I’m doing right now to stay sane. I have to write. I need to write. Writing is my anchor, keeping me right where I need to be, somewhere between my usual, level-headed, rational self and creative combustible artist.

I have regularly completed my daily goal of writing a minimum of 1,000 words a day. I recently took a crack at editing My First Novel, my first attempt over three months. I’ve been overwhelmed, let down by myself, putting my novel on the back burner. But now I have a renewed drive to finish my recent revision.

I am currently doing line-by-line edits. Revising to the structural core of my novel. Something I’ve found daunting the last year. I have tried to keep track, but I think this revision is number 6 or 7.

Completing my daily writing goal, writing half-baked poems here and there every day, and working on my novel has kept me grounded. And I’m tightly hanging on to my writing practices, the only thing that I find therapeutic and comforting during this strange time.

I don’t know what the future holds. I can’t waste time speculating. I have to take it one day at a time.

And every day, I am grateful. I think about how lucky I am to have a roof over my head, food in the kitchen, and my health. I am thankful that no one I know has died from the virus, chances are small, but it can still happen.

All I Can Do is Keep Writing

What have you been doing regularly during the COVID-19 Pandemic to keep you sane and grounded? Have you just started a new practice or hobby? I wanna know.

Besides writing, I’ve been baking like crazy, just like everyone else. I’ve revamped my Patreon page with content only patrons have access to. I’ve created a Facebook business page for my blog, started a Literary Internship for DLG Publishing Partners, and tried to make art and create music.

I want to know what you recommend. What you’ve found to be helpful. And I’d love to start a conversation with you. Feel free to leave a comment or contact me directly.

Stay safe and stay healthy, and to other writer’s out there, keep writing!

Cheers!
Alina

 

Want to become one of my Patrons? Go to my page here and join a tier. All patrons regardless of Tier have access to all of my patron-only content right now! Tiers start at $3/month! I will also send you via snailmail a handwritten personalized Poem + Thank you card for becoming a patron.

Become a Subscriber! Get notified when new posts are published plus once a week I will send content just for you: poem, personal update, reading list, writing tips and more!

Subscribe

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