It’s a quiet Sunday morning, and our Boston Terrier, Nora, is in a deep sleep. Curled up on the bed, her eyes twitch, and she huffs and gives a little bark. What’s she dreaming about?
The window is open, and the brisk 50-something air creeps into our apartment. It hasn’t rained in more than a week, and I’ve been enjoying my second chilly yet sunny winter in San Francisco. I’ve been taking long walks in North Beach and Chinatown, and last week took Clay Street all the way to the Ferry Building, where I hung out and read by the water. I can’t say it enough, I love this city.
Now as 2022 is easing into 2023, I’m hoping next year won’t be as chaotic. Approaching the third-year anniversary of the Pandemic and I can’t help but feel like I’m wedged somewhere between whiplash and a gnarly hangover.
It’s not even ten in the morning but I’ve already gone to store and stocked up on groceries for the week. I’m sit with my cup of cold green tea wondering if I should take a stab at writing 1,600 words of my new novel today (about 2/3rds done) or if I should try to scribble out a poem or two. But honestly, I want to read.
I’ve been reading constantly for the past few weeks, blasting through a few 300-something-page novels, and catching up on the most recent issues of Poetry Magazine. My reading goal for 2022 was to read 25 books, I’m behind, but it’s not as bad as I would’ve thought (18 books read). It’s an itch I need to scratch, and I know I could spend the next few hours getting lost in a book or two. What am I reading?
What are my plans for the holidays? Staying home, writing, and reading more books. I’ve settled into a nice rhythm with reading, and I feel like I could quickly begin reading as much as I did in college (4-5 books a month).
This slow winter month feels like a gestation period. I’m thinking of new ideas and trying to wrap up chapters of my NaNoWriMo22 novel (no, I didn’t finish it by November 30th, and that’s alright). There’s been a lot of progress and I feel like I’m levelheaded enough to take on a big project or even start an online course on top of everything else I’m doing.
Recent obsessions? Cooking. I’ve been watching a few shows and would love to take a class, really learn how to properly chop up vegetables would be helpful.
Nongshim Shin Ramyum cooked with baby bok choy and a handful of sliced white mushrooms and topped with an over-easy egg.
What am I drinking? Wassail and gin.
While I’m not reading, working, or deep in a writing jaunt, I’m listening to music a few hours a day.
What am I listening to this week? Here’s a link to my SF Dec(ember) 2022 playlist. Some old and some new stuff but really it’s a certain atmosphere that I’m going for when I’m putting together a monthly playlist.
Are you writing or reading anything fun? I want to know. Leave a comment below!
Thank you for reading, and I wish you Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year!
NaNoWriMo2022 is over this year! But not for me. I’m still going, and I hit over 30k words this week. The pressure has dissipated, and I’ll work at my own pace. I want to take my time with this novel, and there are a few plot points I’m still dissecting.
What else have I been up to? Reading and then reading some more…
I finished Book #3, A Court of Wings and Ruin of Sarah J. Maas’s series A Court of Thorns and Roses. Again, the fantastical all-powerful flying Fae are sometimes hard to grasp. There are moments where cheesy dialogue and scenes ooze with over-the-top romantic idealization to the point where the series could be immolating itself. I like this series because it’s one of the things I read in my downtime, like watching junk TV or indulging in a Bachelorette episode for laughs.
And I also started Book #2 of The Scholomance series by Naomi Novik. I’m not entirely sure why I’m doing this to myself again (another odd bit is that one of my favorite authors, Holly Black, wrote a short recommendation on the back of this book, which is perplexing).
Yes, I complained about Book #1 of The Scholomance series a lot in my Goodreads review. Honestly, my distaste for it inspired me to keep reading. There may be some sick version of myself who wants to see it improve or at least some radical character development and plot twists. Still, just like Maas’s books, I’m reading this like I’d watch some mind-numbing TV, but the difference is I actually like Maas’s series.
What am I listening to? Spotify’s “Early Alternative” playlist.
What else am I doing? I’m working on a few social media templates for my Etsy shop, The Happy Poet Studio. I also plan on going out in the city to get more shots for my IG @alinahappyhansen.
While all this is happening, I’m working and scribbling down a few words to count toward my daily goal of 3k words (unrelated to my novel writing).
My plans for week six? I want to write 5k words and wrap up the story’s climax. Did you participate in NaNoWriMo? How’d it go? Leave a comment below or HMU on nanowrimo.org; my username is alinahappyhansen ?
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.
My cup of chamomile tea is cold. I glance out the window down at Saint Mary’s Square. I’m on the seventh floor of a nearby building in a community space typing away on my not-a-Mac laptop. It’s Saturday and the sun is out and blazing. The sun mixes the humidity in the air with aromas of the city streets: trash, piss, smoke (both cigarette and joint). I’ve been living in San Francisco for months now and I’ve let the city consume me, so now it’s time for a writer’s reflection.
When it’s hot like this I want to stay inside and sit near a large window. I want to observe people moving around like insects below, so I’m doing exactly that. Meanwhile, the tourists come in waves. They’re like migrating herds of mammals as they parade around downtown. Clogging up the street I live on, packs of touring families block sidewalks and gape up at the buildings. It’s getting harder not to run into them when they keep shifting like seagulls on a beach.
Do you like poetry? Feel free to browse a few of my poems HERE.
Where the Writer Resides: An Apartment in the City
My fault for choosing an apartment downtown. But I’m learning to deal with it because the tradeoff for being close to everything is worth it. I still haven’t lost my “rose-colored glasses” about living in San Francisco and in this writer’s reflection you can expect me to babble endlessly about how much I appreciate living here. Compared to Salt Lake City, I still consider this place a paradise with it’s own pros, cons, and complexities. Over a year after moving here, I’m grateful I made the jump. Waking up and realizing I’m in a city I actually want to live in adds to my happiness and I need every bit I can squeeze out.
I see the trees down in Saint Mary’s Square swaying in the wind. There’s a couple sitting on a bench. A family of three hunched over a red bag on another bench about fifty feet to the south. An empty stroller sits near a banana-yellow slide on the playground. I can’t spot a kid but I assume they’re there somewhere.
Radiohead: The Music Reminds Me of Living in San Francisco
I’m doing my best here. I tried listening to new music today but something about the way the sun hit made me return to Radiohead. Maybe it’s how it feels living in San Francisco that reminded me of Radiohead? Now, I’m listening to Pulk/Pull (True Love Waits Version). Remembering times over a decade ago when I sat on wet grass in Oregon.
A Writer’s Reflection Turns Into Time Travel
Memories brim to the surface and erupt. I’d sit outside for hours listening to hundreds of tracks on a brick of an iPod. Reveling the sounds as dense flog crept into the trees. Meanwhile, rain drops splattered on leaves. The wet chill that wormed under my jacket, my clothes, and into my bones. As the bugs and creatures scuttled in the greenery. The ivy choking trunks of pines, and birdsongs that echoed off the mist.
Look at me go, the words almost turn into gibberish, what a cliché writer’s reflection.
But I’m not trying to dwell on the past. I’m forcing myself to look toward the future and stay optimistic about everything. Although I have one eye on the news about Ukraine and the other scanning updates on laws passing in Red states. Despite the people’s concern about inflation, about gas prices, about this about that. I feel that t’s all compounding into a nonreality that I’m struggle to comprehend. However, this started over two years ago with the pandemic. I had no idea how to process it because I’d never experienced anything like it before.
Interested by my ramblings? You can skim more of my writer’s reflection about Life During COVID-19
A Writer’s Concerns About Everything Out of Her Control and Living in San Francisco
Now I’m concerned I’ll have to live through another coronavirus in my lifetime. I worry that hundreds of thousands more will die in and ignorance will yet again spur hatred and death. But this is all out of my control. Firstly, what am I doing to stay grounded? To not spin off into a spiral of worry over the possibility of a World War III? In this case, I’m writing, writing bilge, free writing the shit out of my mind in hopes of feeling an ounce of release. But at the end of the day, at least I’m living in San Francisco.
Where’s the Alina from Years Ago? What’s that Little Satanic-Obsessed Writer up to?
It’d be easier if I didn’t give a damn. Where did jaded Alina of ten years ago go? I must’ve misplaced her. Is she still nestled in the dog-eared pages of Anton LaVey books? Is she hiding behind my bookcase still crammed with texts on witchcraft and folklore? Where the hell did she go? I’d like to run into her today, although I doubt she’d be living in San Francisco then if she had the chance. A change to hear what she has to say, but she’s somewhere else now probably scribbling a writer’s reflection of my future self that’s been lost. In this situation, she could be rummaging in the back of my mind for a creepy storyline to whisper to me between sleep and dreaming.
Photo of the author Alina Happy Hansen taken in May 2020 by Dallas Basta
How many selves do we shed? Do carry with us? How many blend and morph into who we are now? The things we loved then, are some of those passions with us now? What’s “growing up” in a world full of adult-children? I don’t think a lot of people actually know who they are. I don’t think the majority of people have goals, or values, or have their shit together, this isn’t breaking news.
Alice Tumbles Down the Rabbit Hole: A Writer Spins Out in Observations
Based on my observations, no one knows what they’re doing. If they say they do they’re trying to convince themselves that they have control. There’s very little in our lives that we can actually manipulate to our advantage. I’m not gonna give the lemons into lemonade cliché, that’s bullshit. What I’m obsessed with right now is acknowledging when I don’t have control over something. I have to let go and focus on the small pieces that I can work with. Consciously working toward controlling the way I think and react is helping me deal with it all, and living in San Francisco has been an invaluable setting that allows me to appreciate where I am and how far I’ve come already. If you’re in a similar spot, try it out and tell me what you think.
I’m touring Radiohead’s Kid A Mnesia album as I write this, I’m on Pulk/Pull Revolving Doors. What are you listening to? Reading? Thinking about? Are you writing your guts out like me to cope with the world around you? Leave a comment below, connect with me, and let’s chat.
