You Can't Go Back

"How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on, when in your heart you begin to understand there is no going back? There are some things that time cannot mend. Some hurts that go too deep, that have taken hold." - Frodo Baggins, The Return of the King

Change. Irrevocable change. Transformation. Drastic alteration. Inability to return to the way it was.

This is an important criteria for a good story. When the last page is turned, when the final credits have rolled, I want to know that the characters have been permanently changed. I want to see that there is no possible way for life to go back to the way it was. 

This new state of existence may be better or worse. It may be an improvement on the situation at the beginning - Cinderella marrying her Prince Henry and living happily ever after. It may be heart-wrenching - Sherlock Holmes facing death while battling his mortal enemy. It may be bittersweet - Bilbo and Frodo forever changed by the Ring, leaving Middle-earth to stay in the Undying Lands. 

Of course, being the lovely human being I am, I tend to prefer the latter two types of change. I find the heart-wrenching, gut-punching, tear-jerking forms of change to leave the strongest memory, to have the greatest effect. 

But in the end, no matter what form it takes, change must come.

Staticity is boring, mundane. If characters go through an adventure only to settle back into the same dull routine in the end, what was the point? Why does it matter if nothing changes? 

The same holds true in real life. Living life in a changeless, passive, stagnant manner is meaningless. A life of adventure, exploration, and learning - that is a life that leads to growth. And growth leads to purpose and understanding.

This whole post just took an unintended tumble down the rabbit-hole. But that's okay. In what started out as an analysis of fictional elements led me to realize why I crave adventure in my own life. See? Growth just through typing out a blog-post. It can slip in anywhere if we're open to it.

Where can you grow in your life?


P.S. I've been neglecting this little blog of mine recently; apologies for that. Writing research papers, lab reports, and a novel have hungrily consumed much of my writing energies. As I move into the last six weeks of classes, I hope to find more time for my creative endeavours.

Addendum as of 11:30pm: I decided to throw a little explanation on here as to why I penned this post.

Earlier today I was browsing spoilers for the upcoming season 3 of BBC's Sherlock, which, for those of you who don't know, is an incredible show I adore. It finally hit me - Season 3 is going to be different. Very different. Sherlock's return, the imperative trust issues between him and John, the new character addition - all of these things will necessitate change in this upcoming season. At first I was uncomfortable with this. The show is such a good thing, I hate to see major changes after just six episodes. But the insightful words of Frodo quoted above along with this dialogue popped into my head:

Bilbo: Can you promise that I will come back? 
Gandalf: No... and if you do, you will not be the same.

Bring it, I say. Let's bravely face what changes come our way... both in fiction and in reality. 

Tolkien Reading Day

Today, March 25th, is Tolkien Reading Day! This annual event to read and appreciate Tolkien's works was started a decade again. This particular date was chosen because of its significance as the anniversary of Sauron's defeat in Lord of the Rings. For the past couple years, I've made it a point to read something by Tolkien on this day - and this year it's The Hobbit.

This classic story was my first introduction to Tolkien when I was 10 or 11, and other than Lewis's Chronicles of Narnia, was the first work of fantasy I read. I can still vividly remember my first foray into The Hobbit - encountering Gandalf for the first time with no idea of how far his journey will go, meeting all thirteen dwarves as they tumble into Bag-End, growing with Bilbo as he changes and matures on his journey. Like so many before me, I've been in love with Middle-earth since my first introduction to it.

One major reason I wanted to re-read The Hobbit is due to the recent release of The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey in December and the upcoming releases of the two sequels this winter and next winter. I was interested in refreshing my memory of the book and compare it to the films, seeing as how it's been a year or two since I last read it.

Now, I didn't see any of the original film trilogy in theaters, but I began to read the books about the time the movies were released, and saw the films shortly thereafter. The movies made real to me a world that I had become acquainted with through Tolkien's fantastic works. Being able to actually see those lands and the characters helped me feel connected to the world. The green rolling hills of the Shire, the White City, and the Black Gate of Mordor - seeing them was and remains an incredible experience. I remember those sensations that washed over me the first time I saw those places and scenes as portrayed through Peter Jackson's films.

But of course, there's only one time to be able to experience things for the first time. So even though I frequently re-read the tales of Middle-earth and watch the trilogy, that initial feeling of discovery can't be reclaimed. I honestly never expected to be able to have a first time in the world of Middle-earth ever again. Needless to say, I was pleasantly surprised - okay, I'll be honest, I was ecstatic - to learn that The Hobbit would be made (and even more excited to learn that it would become three films, but that was revealed awhile later). My excitement grew as casting choices were made - I absolutely love the performance of Martin Freeman (who plays Bilbo Baggins in The Hobbit) as John Watson in the BBC Sherlock as well as Richard Armitage's (Thorin Oakenshield) rather brooding and moody portrayal of Guy of Gisborne in the BBC Robin Hood. This was a movie I was greatly anticipating.

And then the day finally came when I saw The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey in theaters (24 fps 2D the first time, followed by 48 fps 3D the second time - absolutely breathtaking). I'm glad to say it completely lived up to expectations and then some - the cast did an amazing job, the costumes and sets were lovely, and the CGI looked fantastic. Even with the changes made in the movie - I loved the film and am looking forward to the next two.

Now it may seem like I'm laying it rather heavy on the film and neglecting the books, but the truth is I adore the books. I'm a prolific reader and to be honest, it was Tolkien's genius that prompted me to begin writing - a path I'm still pursue wholeheartedly. I fully appreciate Tolkien's imagination and world-building - and he did a incredible job of story-building and character development. Bilbo's journey from timid Shireling to brave Burglar is a timeless transformation. Without Tolkien's works, the films wouldn't exist; without his works, we would be missing one of the greatest fictional works of all time.

The point of this long-winded post was to express my recognition for Tolkien's works. He was a skilled writing, and his works have impacted my life, among many others. So today let's appreciate the fantastic world he built and the characters he created with which to tell stories that will last the ages.

P.S. If the only works of Tolkien's that you have read are The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit, I highly recommend you read more of his books, especially The Silmarillion. Fantastic stuff and provides so much background and history that deepens your understanding and enjoyment of the other books.

A Day on My Bike

This afternoon I spent some time on a story I fully intended to post, but that story kept growing longer and longer until I realized there was no way I could finish it this afternoon. So instead I drew up this little snapshot from my bike ride earlier this morning.


I leaned to one side as I rounded the corner, shoes firmly pressed to the peddles. A border collie came bounding out across the lawn, barking at the stranger flying down his street, and I threw him a smile. The gray clouds hovering overhead blocked the rays of sunlight and kept me cool as I traveled my regular route.

I whipped my gaze forward as the sound of tires on gravel alerted me to an approaching vehicle. With the wind roaring across my face, it was difficult to tell exactly how close the car was until I saw it. I slowed slightly and hugged the side of the road as the silver pick-up truck sped by, then began to pick up the pace.

As I crested the hill, I peddled my hardest. I rolled over the slope and stood, legs straight, neck craning forward. My bike coasted down the hill, gliding faster and faster as the momentum sped it on. The wind whipped into my face and through my hair. A laugh bubbled up from my chest. And as I sped into the wind, I could touch the sky.

The Sweet Longing of Adventure

Another note I just wrote. It was inspired while I was doing yoga. I wrote this for a dear friend - you'll know who you are.

I inhale deeply. The scent of pines mingled with the damp freshness of the fog filles my lungs. From my vantage point on the veranda I can make out the tips of the nearest mountains before they vanish in the blanket of fog. A shrill cry wings its way to my ear, and I watch a flash of brown and white as the hawk soars across my sight before disappearing from view. The hazy valley resumes its stillness and silence as the fog muffles and encases everything in its grasp.

I allow my gaze to lazily drift across the mountain peaks, ignoring the feelings of longing swelling up from my gut. Those giants were calling to me, beckoning me to come to them, to scale their highest peaks and learn their deepest secrets. Soon. Soon I would venture into those dark ranges and explore all they have to offer. But not today.

The Ocean

This idea sprang into being when I was in Galveston last week, and tonight it spilled onto the page, unbidden. This is the first time I've shared anything unedited - and honestly, it's a freeing and glorious feeling.

The ocean is alive. The white-crested waves that move upwards before crashing back down are full of life. There is no stagnation there. There is a rhythm to the way the waves beat against the rocks, yet that rhythm is ever-changing. The roar of the waves fills my ears, pulsating, causing my soul to swell with their every rise and fall. The water surges across my feet, a living thing, renewing my spirit, filling me with life.
In the ocean, I see life and motion. I see passion and restlessness. In the ocean, I find myself.

One-Minute Writer: My Mug

I was attempting to write a little fanciful piece based on an insightful moment I had earlier in the week, but it just wasn't working today. So instead, here's my response to today's One-Minute Writer prompt.

Today's prompt: My Mug
I have a favorite mug for my morning coffee. Do you have a "go-to" mug of some sort? Tell us about it!

I'm not a regular coffee drinker, and I typically reserve tea for sickness. But I do love a good mug of homemade hot chocolate (none of that pre-packaged stuff, yuck) in the winter... and to be honest, sometimes in the summer as well.

My favorite mug is one I got in the gift center at Garden of the Gods in Colorado. It's a 12oz - a little larger than most standard mugs. It's decorated with a herd of wild, galloping horses, and the name "Colorado" adorns a spot near the bottom edge. I'm pretty attached to my mug and don't like to share (I think +Susannah Durling can relate to this...). Mornings when I get to use my mug are some of the best.

Across the Sea

Before the trip to Galveston, I was eager for my first opportunity to visit the beach and see the ocean. It lived up to expectations and inspired some writings, but that will be the focus of a later post. Anyway, before the trip I saw a lovely picture of a view from the rocks across the sea to the shoreline beyond and was encouraged to try my hand at drawing it. Here is the finished result.

"The sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonder forever." - Jacques Yves Cousteau

Home Again

So here I am after 5 days spent in Galveston on spring break mission trip with UT Arlington's BSM. After playing soccer matches with little kids, sharing 7 showers with 40-something other ladies, and sunburning my legs, it's nice to be home again. But what a fantastic trip it was!

We drove down to Galveston on Saturday and returned home on Wednesday. The main work my group did on the trip was hosting kids' club Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday morning during which we played games and shared the gospel. This was followed by block parties Monday and Tuesday afternoon, which was really a great opportunity to interact with the kids and parents in the community.

But personally, I found Saturday night to be the best experience of the trip. Before arriving in Galveston, the car I was riding in and two other vehicles made a stop at a church to provide some assistance for the evening. We served dinner to part of the community - dinner consisting of a hot dog and a bag of chips. We also handed out bags of groceries which contained eggs, meat, bread, spinach, and a jar of peanut butter. It struck me to see how needy these people are. While a hot dog is barely a meal for me, these people were so grateful for something so simple. It touched me to be able to work with the church to help this group of people and provide them with food and groceries.

Another meaningful experience was Wednesday night while driving home. After watching a gorgeous sunset, my good friend Ashlee, who was driving, and another lovely lady, Tamara, had a conversation that covered several topics, including prayer and a personal relationship with our Heavenly Father, daily Bible reading, and witnessing the miraculous things God does in our lives. This discussion was uplifting to me and I hope it was a blessing to you ladies as well.

It was incredible to see how God used me and my fellow students to touch the lives of those around us. My first mission trip was a wonderful experience and I am grateful I was able to go and spread the gospel with such a fantastic group of people!

To Galveston

This spring break UTA's Baptist Student Ministries is sending a hundred students to Galveston for a mission trip. We'll be leaving tomorrow morning and spending 5 days in Galveston before returning home. Our areas of outreach and service range from manual labor to evangelism to children's ministries.

This is the first mission trip I will be going on. I'm excitedly anticipating the trip and all that's in store for us! I pray for spiritual growth for those of us going to serve, and I hope we're able to be a blessing to those we go to minister to.

Because of this, I won't be blogging again until late next week. And that's okay - it's going to be a fantastic trip!

The Story of Our Lives

I'm not typically a fan of love songs, so I was surprised when I first heard and promptly fell in love with Sleeping at Last's song "Turning Pages." One particular line from this piece always tugs at my heart every time I hear it:

"We're tethered to the story we must tell."

The poetical nature of this phrase is simply beautiful. It reminds me that we were all placed on this earth to tell a story. This story is our very own. It's personal, it's intimate, and no one else can share it. This story is told throughout our lives in the way which we touch the lives of those around us.

As a writer, this line has a similar secondary meaning to me. I have a story to tell, a story I am bound to write and destined to share. I know this story is meant to be told by the way it is constantly present in my mind, begging to be written, nagging to be shared. I only hope that I can do justice to this tale and present it as it is meant to be told.

This line of lyrics reminds me of a phrase spoken by the Eleventh Doctor in the BBC's long-running show Doctor Who.

"We're all stories in the end. Just make it a good one."

As one who believes in the Divine Creator, I believe that we are more than just stories when it's all over. Yet when we pass to the next life, we are stories to those left behind - stories and legacies. The question is, what sort of story will we leave behind? Is it one our descendants will be glad to share? Will we leave a heritage our grandchildren will proud to call their own? Or will they be ashamed of what we've left behind? Will they want to deny us and who we were? We have the choice to decide how we express our story.

We all have a story to tell - how will you tell yours?

The Magic of the Mundane

Mundane. Dull. Boring. Ordinary. Not words usually coupled with the sparkle and flash of magic. Yet I am convinced that it is the average, the conventional, the humdrum moments that lend the most to life. It is the regular that can give birth to the incredible, and the normal that can lead to the exceptional.

Yesterday I stood on the cold tile floor in the kitchen, rapping my fingertips against the counter as I waited for my bread to toast. It was an average Tuesday. The house was quiet and as soon as I finished my lunch I would be leaving. My gaze flitted across the crumbs and utensils scattered across the counter-top as an imaginary conversation between fictional characters played itself out in my head. As I mechanically moved through the process of making my sandwich - slicing the cheese that precise width I love so much, slathering mayonnaise across the crispy bread - an idea tumbled into my mind. The very idea I had been waiting on to kick-start a short story that has been lurking on the dusty upper bookshelves of my brain. I immediately knew I had stumbled on a gold mine. I just hope the editors I submit it to think so as well.

It was a banal, everyday process that led me to this clever idea, and the more I write, the more value I find in similar moments. I find inspiration in the little things. Yesterday it was sandwiches and imaginary conversations. Today it was tennis shoes. What will it be tomorrow, I wonder?

Don’t get me wrong – as someone with a vivid imagination, I love the grandiose, the magnificent, and the incredible. I find great delight in reading tales of fantastical adventures in far-off worlds. In truth, I have always found every day, ordinary life to be a boring undertaking. I find it hard to involve myself with my daily dealings when I would rather be in exciting, new places, seeing and experiencing wonders never before discovered. Yet I am beginning to realize that the ordinary moments have a function and a purpose. When I open my eyes, my heart, and my mind to the things around me, they become so much more than mundane, so much more than ordinary. They become catalysts for the truly extraordinary. 

Why I Write: Part 1 - To Feel Alive

"Why do you write?" I get this question sometimes from curious individuals who wonder why I don't have a normal hobby like sports or crafts or reading. Well, I do love to read, but it isn't my only pastime. Although I have never asked myself this question in such a straightforward fashion, I have always known why I write. But I decided that perhaps it was time to answer these questions in a succinct manner for those who ask. This will be a series with several parts to be posted over the next few weeks - starting today with Why I Write: Part 1.

Reason 1: I Write to Feel Alive

The arts especially address the idea of aesthetic experience. An aesthetic experience is one in which your senses are operating at their peak; when you’re present in the current moment; when you’re resonating with the excitement of this thing that you’re experiencing; when you are fully alive. - Sir Ken Robinson

Writing is an art, like drawing or painting. An artist sees the world around him with eyes that notice the intricate details. He sees every petal of each daisy in that field full of wild-flowers and the ever-changing colors of the sky as the sun sets. He is involved in the moment, drawn into the subtle shadings of the world surrounding him. The artist understands that it is these little moments that make up the whole - these little details that make the picture worth painting.

Writing is similar to this. As a writer, I feel the crisp bite of the winter air that invigorates and inspires me. I hear the swish of the wind as it dances and twirls like a child through the needles of the tall, watchful pine. I smell the musty pages of that favorite old book as its pages rustle under my fingers, willing to share its story once again. I notice the small things in life, and then place my pen to the paper so others may notice them as well.

This connectivity applies to people as well. The eyebrow raised as you listen with skepticism, the glistening tears you try to hold back as hateful words cut to your very core, the crinkling around your eyes and twitch of your lips as you try to suppress an unexpected laugh that swells up during an inopportune moment. I see these moments and can describe them in a way that allows you to see and experience them as well.

I write to feel alive. I write to fully enter the moment, to touch everything and everyone around me. I write to make the ordinary extraordinary.

One-Minute Writer: Blanket

Today I had extreme difficulty finding anything to blog about. +Susannah Durling can attest to this. So I pulled up the One-Minute Writer to see today's writing prompt - Blanket! The wheels began to rumble as memories came tumbling in... and here's the result.

My blanket is fleecy and brown. Well-loved, it has become increasingly fuzzy as the years go by. I've outgrown it now; it no longer covers me from head to toes. But I love it too much to replace it. I have many fond memories of time spent snuggled under it, reading a good book or playing a game. It plays a key role in many of my winter-time memories.

Dreaming of Great Britain

I spent a few hours yesterday listing and mapping out the various places I want to visit during our trip to the UK. So today castles and beautiful countrysides were very much on my mind. Out came my pencils and paper, and after a quick Google search I found a fitting scene to draw. Mind you, I'm well aware that I'm not the best artist, but I greatly enjoy drawing and am working on improving my skills. Here's the finished result!

"I'm just fascinated by visiting actual castles in the countryside." - Lily Collins 

Oneword: Instill

Another post for today! This is from Oneword - the prompt word was Instill.

I was about six years old when my mother read The Chronicles of Narnia aloud to us. I still remember hearing for the first time the tales of Digory and Polly, the green and yellow rings, and the wood between the worlds with all its pools. This was my first introduction to fantasy, and that event lead to a love of the genre being instilled in me. It was further cultivated when I read the The Hobbit at age 11. To this day it remains my favorite genre.

Reading in 2013

After a quick tally this morning, I discovered that over the past two years I read about a hundred books. This isn't an exact count as I'm pretty confident I missed getting one or two books onto my list, but it's close. This was encouraging to discover, because I have decided to read at least fifty-two books during 2013 - a book for every week of the year - and was excited to see that I've nearly met this goal for the past two years.

Since 2013 began I have already re-read the entire Percy Jackson series, as well as the sequel series, Heroes of Olympus, which I thought was much better than the first series. Don't get me wrong - the original series is an excellent read and extremely witty, but the intricacy of the plots and depth of each character is much greater in the second series.

I'm also one book away from finishing the Thursday Next series by Jasper Fforyd. I must say, humorous novels typically aren't my mug of tea, but these books have kept me laughing. I think my interest is partially due to the whopping amount of literary references strewn throughout the pages. Between this series and the Percy Jackson books, I've already finished fifteen books this year, which puts me six weeks ahead of schedule. Not that I'm complaining - this gives me leeway in case reading doesn't happen in the weeks ahead.

Some of the books I intend to read in 2013 include Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, several of L. E. Modesitt's series, such as The Imager Portfolio and The Corean Chronicles, and finally reading all of the Honor Harrington novels.  The recent release of the beginning of The Hobbit film trilogy has me desiring to re-enter one of the first magical lands I ever visited. I also need to catch up on the few recent Ted Dekker books I haven't yet read and keep abreast with his releases throughout the year (Sovereign, I have my eye on you).

I plan to read more of Stephen Lawhead's works before traveling to Great Britain, which should put me right in the mood! I may even read some classics by Dumas, Verne, and Dickens, which I have been determined to read for awhile but keep putting off. And I might decide to worm my way back through some fantasy series such as The Sword of Truth series by Terry Goodkind, which I never quite finished the first time through, and read some new ones I recently became familiar with, such as The Kingkiller Chronicles. Needless to say, there are plenty of books I'd like to read, and I hope to make a huge dent in my reading list this year.

What about you? Do you have a reading goal set for 2013? Or have you read some good books recently which you would recommend? I'm always looking for new material to read! Feel free to share in the comments below.

Oneword: Conjure

Today's post comes from the one word prompt from Oneword - Conjure. 60 seconds to write.

A writer is like a magician. While the latter casts spells with the wave of the wand, a writer paints pictures and invokes emotions with the movement of a pencil across a blank page. Perhaps this form of conjuring is not as glamorous as a wizard's, and yet anyone who has read the written word is well familiar with the power it can carry.