A is for Acquiesce

Here's the thing.  I thought it would be fun to join the A to Z Blogging Challenge so I acquiesced (complied passively).  The only thing I could think to do is use a word in each post for April that I don't normally use in conversation.  OK, I use acquiesce in normal speech, and you probably don't need the definition of it - but it seemed to work for the first sentence, so there it is. 

What I do not want to do is create an abeyance (temporary suspension of activity) in my normal day-to-day writing and in doing so cause myself to be in a state of apoplexy (becoming angry to the verge of exploding).

The reason I thought using abstruse (hard to understand or grasp) words in these alphabetical posts of April would be good for me (but maybe not for you) is that I have been assiduously (diligently) studying for the GRE for what seems like forever.  It is my biggest stumbling block to applying to graduate school - besides that pesky thing with my foot that makes it rather impossible to walk long distances and stand on hard surfaces. 

I thought I could use this challenge to increase my vocabulary by 26 over the next month.  To my horror, I found there to be quite a few A words that I don't have absolute command of.  So in these posts for the month of April, I will try my best to post as normal while using as many test-worthy words as I can in an attempt to finish this challenge while attaining a demonstrable accretion (growth in size or amount) in my vocabulary without causing an apostasy (abandonment of a loyalty) from my readers or making it too arduous (difficult to do) for me.

My stumbling upon this challenge was adventitious (accidental) and aleatory (based on chance), but may well help me in the long run overcome this one thing that I have been putting off for so long.  Proof of this vocabulary obsession can be seen in the ana (collection of materials that refect a person or place) on my bookshelf of GRE and Word Power study guides that I often pick up with alacrity (eagerness) but quickly abnegate (renounce).  Preparing for this exam at this time in my life has simultaneously been an obsession and an anathema (something loathed or intensely disliked).

Unfortunately, I do not adumbrate (suggest partially or foreshadow) that you will find any aphorisms (wise sayings) or anything useful in any of these posts - just random posts with words I fully admit to not having in my vocabulary despite my best efforts.  You may find a little humor when I fumble and use them incorrectly, as I am pretty sure I have done here with at least two.

With any luck, this alphabetical adventure in April will not abrogate (nullify or set aside) my reasons for blogging - which is just a warm up to writing fiction.  If this causes an anomie (an instability caused by an erosion of values or lack of purpose) in my writing routine, I will need to abandon this exercise. 

I think I will stick with it - there's nothing better than having at your fingertips the one exact right word that you need to describe a character or a setting.  I have to admit I like the word apoplexy (which also means a stroke); I am sure I can definitely use it in one of my stories.  I am also fascinated by the need for the word ablution (the act of washing one's body) and wonder about it's first use in literature.

As I write these April posts, I adjure (urge solemnly and earnestly) you to stick with me and perhaps join me in this little adventure (click the button on the right panel to sign up or the link above).  My initial thought was to write a poem or two here - maybe I will.  It may have been more fun to go all Dr. Seuss on you for this alphabet challenge.  Something like this:  Ambivalent alligators admire angry advaarks that acquiesce to assidulous (ill-tempered) ants.  I know, it's nonsense.  I'll stick with big words instead and not in a Seussical way.

Resolutions

This New Year's Eve, my children and husband are happy to hear that my resolution is to calm down: to live in the moment, to enjoy life, to laugh every day, and to relax.

I am a compulsive goal-setter.  Just this week, I decided to attack the GRE word list, and with the same over-do-it-ness that I apply to everything in my life, I learned 100 words in a week - not 10 or 20 - but 100.  Instead of making my exercise goal a simple 20 minutes of exercise a day, I am compelled to do it large:  a virtual bike trip to Seattle.  Instead of losing ten pounds and going from there, my weight loss goal is a seemingly impossible 30 pounds. 

I also set a book-reading goal for myself that may be impossible for me to accomplish - but setting the goal set me back on a path to reading books I love.  I have finally made it to the scene in The Hobbit where they found the secret door - I can't wait to finish it.

In my heart, I think these goals are good.  Without goals, I feel like I'm not myself.  I think I need them, so I will keep up my voyage to Seattle and hope to finish it this year, but will definitely add my kids' miles to the mix.  I will work on the thirty pounds but will be happy when I lose even five.  I will keep reading and hopefully will make it to the point where I set aside time everyday for reading like I do for writing - because I love it.

I feel a little lost this week because I haven't written (except here) in two weeks.  I am terrified the children's book I am working on may well be the last good idea I will ever have.  I know a lot of writers feel that way and freeze in their tracks. 

One thing that keeps me going is this blog, and I appreciate everyone that has read my entries.  Writing daily here is one thing I don't have to set as a goal for myself, although working on my other writing projects probably should be.  Being too tough on myself with my writing goals is the surest way to stifle my creativity and make the writer in me pop into my shell like a turtle attacked by three year old boys.  I set a too-rigid goal for myself for getting my story done and have frozen.  I need to back off of it, take a rest, take my tired body to the bookstore and hope that my creativity will be revived if I give it a chance to breathe.