Q: To what extent is the decline of reading among Americans?
A: Let me get back to you.
I was having issues coming up with a question. I came up with a few and did some bare minimum research for them, just to see which one would be easiest to find stuff for. And you know what? They were all freaking hard. Apparently no one cares about books (excuse me while I go sit in the corner and cry for a while).
I was really attached to this question, though, because I can't believe that there are people that don't read. Like, at all. I grew up in a family of book lovers and my whole life now basically revolves around books and words and things like that. So I endured and endured and found articles that related to this. As a result, I would just like to say this: HA! Take that! (Although, I don't really know who/what that's directed to. Let's go with the world.)
I had no other motivation for choosing this question other than pure curiosity. I'm not a major math person, but these are the kinds of numbers I want to know about. How many people don't read? What's it like compared to previous years? Don't comic books count? The list goes on.
Really, though, I don't find essays to be all that fun. Even ones where I can pick my own topic. I find it really hard to come up with an argument and find actual proof that shows why I'm right. Honestly, as a teenager, my best argument is "Just 'cause, man." Essays are just really hard and I don't see them getting any easier any time soon. But, as they say, practice makes perfect. And, as I say, my writerly pride is on the line. (Now that I think about it, I actually do say that quite a bit.)
Feb 23, 2014
Feb 16, 2014
A Plot Twist to the Utmost Extreme
I started the day out wearing new pants, uncomfortable shoes, and my mom's shirt and I walked away with $100. If that's not a plot twist then I don't know what is.
I didn't have many expectations walking into the Junior Achievement Social Innovation Camp. Honestly, I was just really excited about the free food (and let me just say, the food did not disappoint). Really, if you think about it, the camp just combines like fifty of my least favorite things: social interaction, social interaction with people I don't know, waking up too early in the morning, thinking too early in the morning. Talking. The list goes on.
Plot Twist #2: I actually enjoyed it.
I know. Just let that sink in for a second.
Well, enjoy might not be the most accurate word but at least it wasn't the complete torture I thought it was going to be, you know? (I'm kidding, ha ha . . . ) I did find the experience to be educational and I feel like I benefitted a lot from it. You know, in more than just a monetary sense (although money is never a bad thing).
I learned that, hey, I can sit in an office for more than a few hours and talk to people I don't know, give my opinion and input, and work. I also learned that I don't think I'm exactly cut out for doing that nine to five, five days a week. It was surprisingly satisfying to come up with an idea and make it work but I felt claustrophobic stuck in that conference room after one hour. Eight hours a day? I'm not sure I'd survive. At least I now know that I wouldn't totally fail at the whole business thing. Another door just opened up and that is completely reassuring.
I think my favorite part (other than the food) might've been sitting in that office with my team members, looking at each other while we were completely lost on what to do and how to do it, and wondering (hoping) if all the other teams were having the same problems we were. I don't know why. Don't ask. I just had fun with that thought.
Which leads me to my next favorite part: watching all the other presentations. It was amazing to see what everyone else came up with and wondering how they came up with the idea and how agonizing the process was to make it presentable. I enjoyed them a lot more after my group went.
And here is as good a place as any to mention that I don't think I am built for public speaking. The fifteen minutes before my group was up, I couldn't even enjoy being done with the thinking part because my knees and my elbows were shaking so much. And don't even get me started on breathing! I think I almost passed out. It was such a relief getting it over with. I didn't care about the money at that point. I just didn't want to have to go through that whole thing again.
Plot Twist #3: Because, of course, I had to go through it again. (sigh)
Which brings us back to Plot Twist #1, in which my group actually won third place with the Wheel-A-Thon, a walk-a-thon with wheelchairs. Really, I'm still having a hard time believing that one.
Oh! It was also really cool that almost all of the teams in the top 6 that had to present again had a Cal kid. I was so proud. (Plot Twist #3.5: Erica gets school spirit.)
It was just one surprise after another at the camp but it did lead to one thing that someone (I won't mention who but she happens to be a certain iQuest teacher) said would happen: I am glad I went.
(Did I mention the food?)
Feb 9, 2014
Debby Downer Reads a Book and Gets Depressed
"This book is just you and me, in writing therapy together, so we can talk about what it means to be a writer and why the writing life is worth living."
That's it. That's the book.
This is Not a Writing Manual: Notes for the Young Writer in the Real World by Kerri Majors is a series of essays not about writing but living with the aspiration of becoming a writer. Using her own experiences, Majors gives candid advice about how to live and to expect to live in the future as a young, aspiring writer.
Hey, wait, doesn't that related to my iQuest project? So, as a young, aspiring writer, I decided to take a chance and read this book.
I'll be completely honest: I hate reading about writing. You'd be surprised how many books and websites there are that are basically training manuals to be a "better" writer. I tend to avoid things like that. They just make me second-guess myself. Am I a bad writer? Am I doing this wrong? I don't do that, should I do that? Wait, I do this, should I not? Yaddah yaddah, blah blah blah, on and on, and then in the end they say "But if it doesn't work for you, you don't have to do it." Then why tell me to do it in the first place?!
Really, these kinds of things just end up making me depressed and self-conscious.
This book was really no different. But in a different way.
As a teenager, Kerri Majors participated in writing competitions and she shared her writing with anyone with time on their hands. In college she majored in art history instead of creative writing. She made writer friends. She did a whole bunch of stuff I don't do and have no real plan of doing and it just makes me think that maybe I should. But I really don't want to. And if I don't want to, what does that mean? It doesn't mean anything really, but still, what could it mean?
And that was just halfway through the book.
After that, she talks about being an adult who still hasn't landed her first book deal (The Big One, as she calls it). She talked about how there were publishers who looked at her writing, editors who asked her to make changes to her writing, about getting her hopes up over this, and then getting rejected. What a downer. She talked about being jealous over friends who got published, about getting frustrated at never making it, about not being sure if she ever would, about not doing things that would "kill your creativity." Lots of really disheartening stuff.
But wait, there's a plus side? This book was really, REALLY helpful because, at the end, there's an appendix of jobs! A list of what she refers to as "real jobs," she catalogues more than a few jobs that relate to using words in a "creative way" and gives a slightly-less-than-detailed-more-than-brief description about it. There were jobs like journalist, editor, copywriter, lawyer, entrepreneur, and whole bunch others. Just, after being completely depressed and unsure, it was really nice to read about all these other more stable jobs that would still let me indulge in my passion for writing and even give me time to work on my own stuff. Best part.
All in all, it was a good book and a decent read and, for someone a tad more optimistic than me, this would've actually been (dare I say it) inspiring. If you're really into writing and plan on continuing it in the future, this is definitely a book you should read. If not, might I suggest Harry Potter?
Jan 13, 2014
"The Best Years of My Life" My Butt
I've heard that old people say that about high school years a lot, that they were the "best years of their lives," but now that I think about it, I've never actually heard anyone say that. Ever. Maybe once or twice in movies and maybe I read it a book a few years ago, but never in real life has anyone said to me, "You should be glad that you're in high school because I found high school to be AMAZING."
Never. Not once. For good reason.
High school sucks. There's teachers and grades and parents and friends and second-guessing and insecurities and a whole lot of "You should start thinking about your future." Everyone asks where do you want to go to college and what do you want to major in and what do you want to be when you grow up. Then everyone smiles and nods at your answer then turns to your mom and asks her about you when your back is turned. Then there's "Oh, you're just a kid" and "You're old enough to be responsible for yourself" and . . . I'm rambling here. But you get the point.
But I think I'm starting to get where "the best years of my life" saying comes from. Because no matter how terrible I might think high school was, I wouldn't trade my time spent here for anything.
Wow. Did not see that coming.
Because I never thought I would think that. Maybe fleetingly, once, when I was still a bright-eyed freshman, naive and hopeful, I looked at high school and thought, "I am going to love this."And even though I didn't, and even though I am not "glad" that I went through anything, I am never going to forget anything and I would never want to.
(Aw, cheese-fest. Seriously. As a writer, I am analyzing these feelings and literally cringing at how predictable they are. I need a plot twist . . . )
Before I started writing this post, I was in denial, really. A reflection requires you look back at who you used to be and compare that to who you are now and I hate that. I don't like acknowledging the fact that something is different, that I've changed. But I have. That eager little freshman is now an uneasy senior that is just trying to muster up the motivation to try when she's leaving soon.
To be honest, I miss being that eager little freshman. This might not be the universal sentiment, but I loved being a freshman. Freshman year was my favorite year of high school. I was young enough that the future seemed too far to worry about, my grades were exactly where I wanted them to be, my friends were more amazing than I could have hoped for, and, to top it off, my sister was here. (She recently told me, without any arm twisting too, that her senior year was her favorite because I was there. Aw!) After I became a sophomore, though, it all just kind of went downhill. I won't go into details, because they're personal and private and I feel like I'm being a little too open here anyway, but let's just say sophomore year was not a good year. But it got better, eventually. I reached a nice plateau of contentment. It's great. There's chocolate.
That being said, my grades got even better. Like, geez. I can't stand to look at my sophomore grades, my junior grades are tolerable but still not exactly what I want, but my senior grades. Seriously, who went to school last semester because it certainly wasn't the person that went to school the last two years. I just kind of hope that person keeps going to school, with maybe a little more motivation and energy, next semester. Meanwhile, I'll be at home taking a nap.
Really though, I am just super excited (and anxious and nervous and worried) about college. I can't wait for acceptances and (surprisingly enough) rejections. I have no idea what to do until then. I would be counting the days if I had a 2014 calendar (which I don't because it's too expensive at the beginning of the year according to my mother.) Other than that, and summer (and, oh yeah, graduation), I honestly just can't wait to leave. Cal has been, uh, great, but I am just so ready for something new.
And new is definitely the goal. This confuses my mom, and me sometimes, but I really want to go to school out of state. I'm not really sure why. That being said, here's the list of colleges I applied to in order of choice:
Northwester University*
Western Washington University
UC Berkeley
UCLA
UC Santa Barbara
Abrupt subject change! SMART goals:
1) Finish book by the end of the year! I am honestly surprised with how far I got in my writing and I am super anxious to get it finished.
2) Meet with my off-campus mentor, Peggy Dulle, more. She's a wonderful resource and I feel like I haven't been taking advantage of that as much as I should have. So I will!
3) Let my mom read my recreational writing. I've let her read some articles I wrote for newspaper, but nothing that's just sitting on my computer. Never. So, before I graduate, she will have read something I wrote not for school.
Never. Not once. For good reason.
High school sucks. There's teachers and grades and parents and friends and second-guessing and insecurities and a whole lot of "You should start thinking about your future." Everyone asks where do you want to go to college and what do you want to major in and what do you want to be when you grow up. Then everyone smiles and nods at your answer then turns to your mom and asks her about you when your back is turned. Then there's "Oh, you're just a kid" and "You're old enough to be responsible for yourself" and . . . I'm rambling here. But you get the point.
But I think I'm starting to get where "the best years of my life" saying comes from. Because no matter how terrible I might think high school was, I wouldn't trade my time spent here for anything.
Wow. Did not see that coming.
Because I never thought I would think that. Maybe fleetingly, once, when I was still a bright-eyed freshman, naive and hopeful, I looked at high school and thought, "I am going to love this."And even though I didn't, and even though I am not "glad" that I went through anything, I am never going to forget anything and I would never want to.
(Aw, cheese-fest. Seriously. As a writer, I am analyzing these feelings and literally cringing at how predictable they are. I need a plot twist . . . )
Before I started writing this post, I was in denial, really. A reflection requires you look back at who you used to be and compare that to who you are now and I hate that. I don't like acknowledging the fact that something is different, that I've changed. But I have. That eager little freshman is now an uneasy senior that is just trying to muster up the motivation to try when she's leaving soon.
To be honest, I miss being that eager little freshman. This might not be the universal sentiment, but I loved being a freshman. Freshman year was my favorite year of high school. I was young enough that the future seemed too far to worry about, my grades were exactly where I wanted them to be, my friends were more amazing than I could have hoped for, and, to top it off, my sister was here. (She recently told me, without any arm twisting too, that her senior year was her favorite because I was there. Aw!) After I became a sophomore, though, it all just kind of went downhill. I won't go into details, because they're personal and private and I feel like I'm being a little too open here anyway, but let's just say sophomore year was not a good year. But it got better, eventually. I reached a nice plateau of contentment. It's great. There's chocolate.
That being said, my grades got even better. Like, geez. I can't stand to look at my sophomore grades, my junior grades are tolerable but still not exactly what I want, but my senior grades. Seriously, who went to school last semester because it certainly wasn't the person that went to school the last two years. I just kind of hope that person keeps going to school, with maybe a little more motivation and energy, next semester. Meanwhile, I'll be at home taking a nap.
Really though, I am just super excited (and anxious and nervous and worried) about college. I can't wait for acceptances and (surprisingly enough) rejections. I have no idea what to do until then. I would be counting the days if I had a 2014 calendar (which I don't because it's too expensive at the beginning of the year according to my mother.) Other than that, and summer (and, oh yeah, graduation), I honestly just can't wait to leave. Cal has been, uh, great, but I am just so ready for something new.
And new is definitely the goal. This confuses my mom, and me sometimes, but I really want to go to school out of state. I'm not really sure why. That being said, here's the list of colleges I applied to in order of choice:
Northwester University*
Western Washington University
UC Berkeley
UCLA
UC Santa Barbara
Abrupt subject change! SMART goals:
1) Finish book by the end of the year! I am honestly surprised with how far I got in my writing and I am super anxious to get it finished.
2) Meet with my off-campus mentor, Peggy Dulle, more. She's a wonderful resource and I feel like I haven't been taking advantage of that as much as I should have. So I will!
3) Let my mom read my recreational writing. I've let her read some articles I wrote for newspaper, but nothing that's just sitting on my computer. Never. So, before I graduate, she will have read something I wrote not for school.
Dec 16, 2013
Filling the Bucket Then Kicking it Over
That's totally not depressing. With that image in mind, meet (most of) my bucket list!
10: Publish a novel
Obvious, when you think about what my iQuest passion is but if I don't keep reminding myself what it is I'm working towards or that I could, one day, actually hold my writing in my hands, life gets a little less . . . fun.
9: Find triplets and make them wear these
I can confidently say that my life will not be complete until I see three babies wearing these at the same time.
8: Take a road trip across the country
I've never really had the urge to travel before, not like a "I NEED to go to this place" type of feeling. Like ever. But I've always wanted to drive down Route 66 and get lost in some place I've never been before. I blame the movie Cars.
7: Have a whole room dedicated to books
I want my own library. Remember that scene in The Beauty and the Beast where the Beast gives Belle a library? I want that. I don't necessarily want someone to give it to me (though if someone's willing I certainly won't turn them down) but that's what I want. I want wall to wall shelves covered with books and DVDs and I want a desk and a computer and a couch and a cushy chair in there so that I can sit there forever and just enjoy the company of books.
6: Take my sister out to dinner
A simple plan, I know, but there's more than just a meal to that. I promised my sister that if I ever became famous and made enough money I would take her out to one of those sushi boat places where you pay by the plate and then a Korean barbecue where you grill your own meet (which is surprisingly expensive). Not only do I want to be famous (who doesn't?) but my sister does a lot for me, even if she doesn't know it (nor does she need to).
5: Write a novel
I guess before I can finish #10 I should do this first . . .
4: Fall in love
What can I say? I'm a closet sap.
3: Have my grandma at my college graduation
My grandma's old right now and she'll be even older five years from now but one of the things she's been talking about nonstop ever since my sister was born, was being able to see her grandchildren have a great education. Plus, she'd probably be the most excited one of us to see me graduate.
2: Pay my mom back
She says it doesn't matter, that it's a mom's job to take care of her kids and not expect anything in return, but it's a Chinese thing to repay your parents when you're older for all that they've done for you. Let's be honest, I'm not exactly a ray of sunshine or anything and my future is iffy at best, but my mom's always been there for me and supported me no matter what. I don't really know how to repay her for all that she's done, but I'll sure as hell try.
1: PETS!!
Bet you were expecting something a bit more meaningful, weren't you? Well no way, Jose! I want pets! My grandma used to tell me we couldn't get a dog because she was allergic then when I was about ten years old I found out she just didn't want a dog so she lied to me (gasp!). As a result I want a cat, and a dog, and maybe another cat. And maybe another dog. I've thought a lot about this. My mom used to make fun of me because I used to say that my dream dog was a Husky with blue eyes named Dude (that hasn't really changed, actually).
Dec 9, 2013
I Don't Like Reading Non-Fiction (A Boring Title for a Boring Subject)
I really don't. Textbooks left a bad taste in my mouth when it came to nonfiction. It just all seems so dull. Why should I be reading something boring and educational when I could be reading about wizards and magic?That being said, I found This is Not a Writing Manual by Kerri Majors while I was surfing the web a few months ago, thought it looked interesting and informative, then immediately forgot about it. Because it definitely sounded like a writing manual.
Kerri Majors (a woman I've never heard of before) is the editor and founder of YARN, the Young Adult Review Network (a website I've never heard of before), an award-winning online literary journal of YA short stories, poetry, all that jazz. (And let's just say I'll be looking into that.)
This is Not a Writing Manual is intended for young, aspiring writers to give them advice about the writing life. Perfect for me, right? I'm a young aspiring writer and I know nothing about the writing life. But I've always been more than skeptical of taking advice from other writers. The thing about "creativity" is that it works differently for everyone. For some people it happens in numbers and science, for some it works in music notes, and others it works in words, but it's never the same for everyone. Having someone else's voice in my head while I write tends to hinder the creative process.
But, reading this book, it's not giving me advice on how to write, or even how to live. It's giving me an honest look at someone who's spent her life writing. And that's something I've never had.
The introduction was a bit of a downer, honestly. It talked about all the bummer advice people gave Majors as a teenager when she told them she wanted to be a writer. "Marry well", "Write this or that, it'll sell better", "Better get a day job." Stuff I've heard. Turns out it's all true. Doesn't that suck.
The first chapter took a better turn, for lack of a better word. It talked about drafting, the stage of the writing process I happen to be trapped in. This is actually stuff I've heard too: write every day, rain or shine, editing is huge but it's not everything, yaddah yaddah. What I was surprised by was this topic turning up: time management. Where have I heard that before? Turns out that buying a planner and setting aside time to write in the midst of her busy schedule helped Majors manage her writing and the rest of her life pretty well. I've never been big on planners, but maybe I should start.
The second chapter talked about my favorite part of writing: reading. The chapter was titled "Writing Without Writing." This might come as bit of a shock to some of you (and by that I mean all two of you reading), but lots of reading actually goes into a book. Tons of research has to be done to stay accurate. But it's not only that, either. It's reading a book that gets you in the mood to write what you need to. I did that just today, actually, read some adventure novel to get the action-y juices flowing. I'm a bit of a light-weight when it comes to the factual research of things, though. According to Majors, though, some people actually find research fun. Go figure.
It's different, finding a book about writing that seems like it was written just for me. It seems like this could be a brutally honest read, though. Not just all the ups but all the waaay downs of writing too. I expect a lot of groaning and unshed tears while reading this. The goal is to finish reading this book by the end of this year, but as to how many pages a day I'll be reading? Fifteen sounds pretty good, but chances are I'll read two hours every Saturday instead. Maybe I should get on that planner thing now...
Nov 24, 2013
Update! Read All About It! (or What Have I Been Doing For the Last Three Months?)
Writing. Writing, writing, writing. Writing.
Writing.
(Writing.)
In case you are wondering, the answer to the above question is WRITING.
For the past three months I have been working on (what is sometimes embarrassingly referred to as) a novel. The story of a girl with telekinesis and her just-as-scientifically-empowered cohorts. (This might be the first time I have ever been so specific about plot when I talk about this thing.)
But (plot twist) there is another novel(-ish thing that's not actually finished yet)! How? How can this be? Isn't one enough? The answer to that is never, but taking on two books at once is a daunting task. I hardly even like reading more than one book at a time and now I'm trying to write two? What is wrong with me?
NaNoWriMo.
What a word, I know. Na(tional)No(vel)Wri(ting)Mo(nth) is an annual event that encourages people to sit down and write without letting thoughts like "Is this any good?"get in the way. There is no room for second-guessing yourself in NaNoWriMo because you only have one month to finish a 50,000 word novel. If it sounds like torture, that's because it is. 50,000 words is a lot of words. Do you know how many essays that is? (If you do, let me know because I don't.)
That being said, how much time do I spend on these projects? Honestly, I don't really even know. There are some days where you'll find me writing for hours and hours on end and then other days where just opening up Word is an accomplishment. And a very huge one at that, depending on the day. But it is safe to assume that I fulfill the two to four hour a week requirement. Really, though, I should be writing at least two to fours hours a day.
The creative mind has always boggled me, to be perfectly honest. People who direct movies, who paint, who write music, who write books. All these people have to have whole worlds inside their heads to get anything done. Can you imagine anyone of these people being successful by recreating their neighbor on paper? Unless that neighbor is a raging lunatic who sacrifices pigs in his backyard, whatever comes out of that is not going to be very interesting. Creative people have to see different things, they have to experience things in a new way, they have to use their imaginations, in order to be even remotely successful. That has always been my favorite thing about writing. I have whole worlds inside my head and I can take people to those worlds just by writing about it. Who needs a car when they have a book?
What sucks about that? I actually have to write it.
I love writing, love it to death. But sometimes writing can be a real bitch. There are too many words in the English language and half of them mean the same thing but don't. You can skulk, or you can walk. Same thing, but two different things. Why? You can be triumphant or victorious. Why do I need two different options there? You can be mad or angry or frustrated (ha, get it, frustrations) and even though they are all fundamentally the same thing there is something different about them. And, as a writer, your job is to pick to perfect word. Over and over and over and OVER again. A book is more than one word.
Sure, there's lots more about writing that get my blood boiling, but that, that is what frustrates (angers, upsets, vexes, irks, irritates, annoys, infuriates) me the most.
But I have found that about 93% of the time, I find that word. And I'm happy with it about 84% of the time. So it's not necessarily what I've learned about myself, but what I am in the process of accepting: I am a good writer. Sooner or later, I find the right words and I put them together in a way that even I find pleasing. Sooner or later, characters have a life of their own and I'm just recording it. Sooner or later, stuff actually happens. Wow. Hold on, I think I need a minute.
Part of the process of accepting this is letting other people actually read what I've written. Which is actually a lot harder than it sounds. For a long time, I never even told anyone that writing was even on the table. Just getting past that hurdle was hard enough, but then you throw in letting them read it? Are you kidding? But then, one day, I did it. I let someone read what I wrote. A complete stranger, at that. And you know what happened? She liked it. Someone read something I wrote and liked it. I could hardly believe it. I probably stopped breathing, quite possibly actually pinched myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming. Because I was so freaking happy, so pleased, so proud, so satisfied, so many things all at once. That is what I learned about writing: the feeling that comes along with someone liking what I wrote.
(Cue abrupt subject change) The main part of my Time Management Plan (that needs a better name. I'll come up with something) is getting my priorities straight. Right now, my problem is that I don't focus on what is important and spend my time wasting it. So I've narrowed down my priorities to these four, in no particular order: writing, school, eating, sleeping. Because, really, these are pretty fundamental to my life. Now all that's left is actually managing my time. We'll save that for later :)
Writing.
(Writing.)
In case you are wondering, the answer to the above question is WRITING.
For the past three months I have been working on (what is sometimes embarrassingly referred to as) a novel. The story of a girl with telekinesis and her just-as-scientifically-empowered cohorts. (This might be the first time I have ever been so specific about plot when I talk about this thing.)
But (plot twist) there is another novel(-ish thing that's not actually finished yet)! How? How can this be? Isn't one enough? The answer to that is never, but taking on two books at once is a daunting task. I hardly even like reading more than one book at a time and now I'm trying to write two? What is wrong with me?
NaNoWriMo.
What a word, I know. Na(tional)No(vel)Wri(ting)Mo(nth) is an annual event that encourages people to sit down and write without letting thoughts like "Is this any good?"get in the way. There is no room for second-guessing yourself in NaNoWriMo because you only have one month to finish a 50,000 word novel. If it sounds like torture, that's because it is. 50,000 words is a lot of words. Do you know how many essays that is? (If you do, let me know because I don't.)
That being said, how much time do I spend on these projects? Honestly, I don't really even know. There are some days where you'll find me writing for hours and hours on end and then other days where just opening up Word is an accomplishment. And a very huge one at that, depending on the day. But it is safe to assume that I fulfill the two to four hour a week requirement. Really, though, I should be writing at least two to fours hours a day.
The creative mind has always boggled me, to be perfectly honest. People who direct movies, who paint, who write music, who write books. All these people have to have whole worlds inside their heads to get anything done. Can you imagine anyone of these people being successful by recreating their neighbor on paper? Unless that neighbor is a raging lunatic who sacrifices pigs in his backyard, whatever comes out of that is not going to be very interesting. Creative people have to see different things, they have to experience things in a new way, they have to use their imaginations, in order to be even remotely successful. That has always been my favorite thing about writing. I have whole worlds inside my head and I can take people to those worlds just by writing about it. Who needs a car when they have a book?
What sucks about that? I actually have to write it.
I love writing, love it to death. But sometimes writing can be a real bitch. There are too many words in the English language and half of them mean the same thing but don't. You can skulk, or you can walk. Same thing, but two different things. Why? You can be triumphant or victorious. Why do I need two different options there? You can be mad or angry or frustrated (ha, get it, frustrations) and even though they are all fundamentally the same thing there is something different about them. And, as a writer, your job is to pick to perfect word. Over and over and over and OVER again. A book is more than one word.
Sure, there's lots more about writing that get my blood boiling, but that, that is what frustrates (angers, upsets, vexes, irks, irritates, annoys, infuriates) me the most.
But I have found that about 93% of the time, I find that word. And I'm happy with it about 84% of the time. So it's not necessarily what I've learned about myself, but what I am in the process of accepting: I am a good writer. Sooner or later, I find the right words and I put them together in a way that even I find pleasing. Sooner or later, characters have a life of their own and I'm just recording it. Sooner or later, stuff actually happens. Wow. Hold on, I think I need a minute.
Part of the process of accepting this is letting other people actually read what I've written. Which is actually a lot harder than it sounds. For a long time, I never even told anyone that writing was even on the table. Just getting past that hurdle was hard enough, but then you throw in letting them read it? Are you kidding? But then, one day, I did it. I let someone read what I wrote. A complete stranger, at that. And you know what happened? She liked it. Someone read something I wrote and liked it. I could hardly believe it. I probably stopped breathing, quite possibly actually pinched myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming. Because I was so freaking happy, so pleased, so proud, so satisfied, so many things all at once. That is what I learned about writing: the feeling that comes along with someone liking what I wrote.
(Cue abrupt subject change) The main part of my Time Management Plan (that needs a better name. I'll come up with something) is getting my priorities straight. Right now, my problem is that I don't focus on what is important and spend my time wasting it. So I've narrowed down my priorities to these four, in no particular order: writing, school, eating, sleeping. Because, really, these are pretty fundamental to my life. Now all that's left is actually managing my time. We'll save that for later :)
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