Before anything else happens, BEHOLD. BEHOLD THE AMAZING AWESOMENESS:
OMG ISN'T IT AMAZING?!?!?!?!??!!!?!?!?
Feel free to pause, because if you've reacted half as crazily as I have, then you're still hyperventilating from the AWESOMENESS OVERLOAD!
Ok. Are you good?
Me too.
Let's continue.
In the spirit of my absolute favorite book series EVER (no, seriously, nothing will ever eclipse my love for HP. Haha. See what I did there with the Twilight reference?), I'm going to copy this youtube video. However, since me plus cameras usually equal disaster, I'm just going to blog about it instead.
If I were to create seven horcruxes by putting bits of my soul into material objects (like Voldemort does in the Harry Potter series), here's what they would be:
1) My guitar. Not the first one from my dad, but the one my music teacher gave me. It's a little beaten up, but it's lovely, and even though I don't play seriously anymore, I'd feel lost if I didn't have a guitar nearby. It's very important to me to be able to have that, and especially that particular guitar. I even named it. No, I'm not going to tell you its name.
2) My first Harry Potter Book. Granted, it is seriously messed up right now, but I truly believe I wouldn't be who I am today without HP. There's scotch tape holding it together, and ridiculous 11-year-old doodles inside, but I love it. Dearly.
3) This Ring:
I've had it for almost a year, and other than the fact that it's absolutely beautiful, one of my best friends got it for me for my birthday. Also, it's peridot, my birthstone. So that's pretty damn cool as well.
4) Guitar pendant and/or hand of god charm. They both go on necklace style, and they both mean a lot to me. The guitar pendent was my great grandmother's (on my dad's side) and the hand of god I got at the synagogue when I used to student teach there. I don't feel safe or normal without one of those around my neck.
5) A lump of peridot on the green sand beach in Hawaii. Favorite place. On earth. No doubt.
6) My cat. I know, she's alive, but as evidenced by the 7th HP book (spoiler, mos def), I can do that. I love my baby kitten, because she's made of awesome and she's got spunk. Spunk is good. Especially for horcruxes.
7) Red scarf I got in Israel. It's shiny, and I love it. God, that sounds like a terrible reason. I bought it in the beduin tents on my last night in Israel, and every time I wear it I think of the amazing time I had there.
**
WOW. This turned out to be WAY more difficult then I thought it would be. Not that I'm not materialistic. I assure you, I am, but Voldemort had his work cut out for him when he had to decide which objects to put his soul into. If I had to do that, the Order of the Phoenix would probably catch me while I was trying to decide.
Do I sound like a nerd?
I sound like a nerd.
Ok, your turn. If you had to make horcruxes, what would you put your soul into? Because immortality has crossed everyone's mind, I'm sure, and it never hurts to be prepared.
Not that I'm a supporter of guns, or anything. They can be quite cool, but that's not the point of this post.
I've never held a gun before, but I can imagine what it's like to hold one, my index finger tense and ready to pull back at a moment's notice.
Ok, so I don't know that much about guns, except a few amateur moves on how to disarm an assailant pointing a gun at my face or back. One of the fun things about being a writer is you can imagine things like holding a gun, aiming it at a bad guy, or disarming someone pointing one at you. The best part is you don't have to ever hold a gun or have one aimed at you.
However.
It's probably easier to write about it if you've done it. Sure, you can imagine the mountains of Scotland, but if you've actually been there, the picture won't be quite so hard to conjure up. You can imagine holding a gun, palms sweaty and nerves going nuts, but the feeling is more vivid if you've experienced it.
Case in point: One of my writing teachers mentioned that sometimes, she enlists a colleague's help to enact an action scene. She needed to know what it felt like to throw a punch, where it would land, what might happen, etc. A lot of people have problems writing action scenes, because the majority of action people have seen is from DIE HARD or BUFFY. I happen to have it a bit easier, because I'm involved in a few different martial arts. Contrary to the belief of most people who've seen MI2, if you throw one solid punch at someone's temple, or an uppercut to their chin, they will go out like a light. No ten minute long fight scenes. It usually takes less than three.
Handy to know when writing an action scene, no?
I'm sure the dimensions change when the person being hit has superhuman healing powers (like werewolves), but it's nice to have a baseline.
It's harder for me to write about, say, a biochemist, because I have no experience in that subject. Also, it's difficult to imagine a character who knows guns very well, because I dunno jack shit about it. Which is why I'm going to shoot off a few rounds (that's what he said) before I leave Texas. Everyone has guns here. Really.
So I guess the moral of this story is don't be afraid to write to your strengths. The runner up moral of the story is do your research. The saying "write what you know" is vastly misinterpreted, because the power of the imagination is often taken for granted, even by those who work theirs to the grind every day.
What experiences or talents do you have that make certain topics easier to write about?
Visual inspiration for a tentative WIP. We'll see where it goes. As a fun little experiment, you should let me know what you think the book is about in the comment section (unless your name is Katie Spanish Dessert and I already told you the basics...)
My Main Character (she's made of awesome... I think):
Yeah, I started out strong, but eventually this whole blogging thing died. Caput, and all that jazz. See, Texas was once a place of lame internet access, until I realized that dad has a wifi plug in. He's been holding out on me.
Punk.
Anyways, now I have ze internet at my fingertips, but I'm fairly sure the Spilling Ink challenge has turned out to be a monumental failure for me. Kudos to those who stuck with it.
Oh, speaking of challenges, I also failed that whole "4k a day" thing. Was it 4k? Or 3k? 2k?
Dunno. Haven't written that much, except for the past two days, whilst a shiny new idea distracted me from reality. I'm a bit hesitant to work on shiny new idea, because even though it sounds super cool, I don't like research. This totally needs research.
Shiny new idea will probably continue to distract me until I've written enough of it out (which might be 20 pages or a book), but if I write enough scenes (20 pages or 10k words) I'll suck it up and write the rest of it. Because it's the most promising idea I have to go on.
Arg. Maybe tomorrow I'll write about the evil difficult ridiculosity about writing a second book.
Steph Bowe, a 16 year old author, posted today about visual inspiration. Her post is interesting, and inspired mine today. It's all about M-Town, by the way.
All of the pictures pertain to my book, and after an extensive online search, I think I found the right ones to post. Next week sometime I'll do one of these on SW, my new WIP that isn't so much IP.
I know this is Outback Steakhouse, but it looks so much like the restaurant where many fateful conversations occur:
That's all, folks. Do you find pictures for your books or stories?
Yeah. I know it's been three days. Yeah. I know I'm supposed to blog every day. Yeah. I know I suck.
Today I'm going to have lunch with one of my high school teachers, and I'm really excited. I'm also aware that this is apparently weird, but I don't care. She was the first encouraging voice (besides my mother) to tell me writing was a subject worth pursuing. I was a member of her first class after college. Junior year English. Amazing. It was back when I still cared about grades, and I'll always remember the day she broke it to me that my final grade for fall semester was an A-.
Good times.
This blog post, therefore, is dedicated to all the amazing teachers I've had, in high school and college: Sucich, Abani, Savage, Kinzie, Bouldrey, Morawski, Olson. I owe my love for English to you fine professors, and I hope you share your enthusiasm with hundreds (thousands) of students in your thus far AMAZING careers.
I'd like to take today to talk about one of my favorite movies. Hitch. You know, the wonderful one with Will Smith? No? You've seen it. Trust me. Check out this HILARIOUS scene:
I told you you've seen it. Now, Will Smith says a hell of a lot of funny/deep/possibly true things in this movie, but what always gets me is this: "60% of all human communication is nonverbal. Body language. 30% is your tone. So that means that 90% of what you're saying ain't coming out of your mouth."
Say what? Yes. Body Language is imperative for communicating with the opposite sex. Really, it's kind of imperative for communicating with... anyone. If body language is so important in real life, it obviously has a place in books. But where? That's the subject I'm trying to tackle today.
Body language can make or break an otherwise average story. It can be used to break up dialogue, give away emotion, or even further the plot.
I'm going to go ahead and bring in another pop culture reference (because I love 'em so much). It's one of my absolute favorite shows, on its third season, and it's all about lying. The lying in the show is all about body language. Here, watch this:
See? See what I'm talking about? If your characters are sharp enough, there's a whole lot of goodness in body language. So next time you start a scene, keep in mind that the protagonist might clench his fist when he gets angry. Or he might see someone leaning close to a supposedly "platonic" friend. Maybe the heroine will shrug instead of responding to her parents. Or the antagonist might smile at just the wrong time and wind up getting himself caught by the police.
Alright, so these are a lot of random possibilities, but just think about it. Body language can be a bit tedious when you're trying to worry about characters, plot, and keeping your writing crisp, but it can also be hella fun.
Yeah, it's June, two months away from M-Town's anniversary, and what have I got to show for it?
Editing scars. A better, cleaner manuscript. About 3 chapters of a sequel. A bunch of ideas I never follow through on.
I've heard the first book is the worst, that once you write one, it's easy to write a second. But in my crazy of omgihavetogetpublishednothingelsematters, I kind of lost sight of that, and now I feel like a one hit wonder, a one-time writer.
I know that's BS, but that's how I've been feeling lately.
SO. I decided to challenge myself. Writing goals. Said challenge name? 3k a day. Pretty self explanatory, right? The plan is to... well, um... write 3k.
Every day.
Starting now. Anyone care to join me? That means a book in a month, right? Gulp.
Whether for better or worse, summer has officially started, and if the past two days are any indication, this summer is going to be insane. Inundation of stuff to do with cool people.
I'm still pretty drained from school, and my internet access is sketchy, at best (thus the 3 days at once thing), but I feel like the weight of the world has been lifted from my shoulders. Summer so far has been completely surreal, and I've barely had time to sleep, let alone breathe. But it feels good, hanging out with so many different people, and fun times aside, I feel like I've been accumulating a lot of story fodder. So many ideas. So little time.
No, really.
I have no idea how these ideas work together, but they do.
How do I know?
I don't. It's a mystery.
Spilling Ink, Day 15, will be so much more interesting.
Though the date marked next to my last post says "Tuesday, June 8," I'm pretty sure I posted it today, Wednesday, June 10. It SHOULD have been posted yesterday, June 9th, but finals literally ate that day and now I'll never get it back.
I'm sitting in my barely lit dorm room, staring around at the mess that is my attempt to pack, and I'm typing these words like a madwoman. Not only do I have to write my final paper of my Junior year, I also have to pack up the past year of my life into neat boxes before I can go on with what will most likely be an amazing summer.
Metaphorical niceties aside, I have a lot to do.
So I'm going to shamelessly quote a great blog I read earlier this week by Sarah J Maas about 5 rules in the publishing world. They're really important rules, so pay attention:
5. Be patient. This is perhaps the hardest thing to do, but learning to Wait is an essential skill. The waiting never gets better, believe me. Whether you’re waiting for an agent to respond to your query, or for your editor to read your revised manuscript, it always sucks. But this isn’t a lightning-fast industry—things take time.
Your agent and editor are usually juggling multiple projects, all at different stages of publication. No news isn’t necessarily bad news—sometimes no news is just…no news. Learn to distract yourself—try to avoid staring at your inbox for hours on-end. Write another novel, watch TV (I became a Bravo addict while on subs), go to the gym. In short, force yourself to do anything other than refresh your inbox and stalk twitter feeds! Don’t drive yourself crazy while waiting.
4. Do your research. This isn’t just about researching before you query agents. You should try to keep abreast of what’s happening in the industry: recent sales, what’s hot (and what’s going out of fashion), recent scandals (yes, we have those), and who has drama (especially in the sense that you should learn to avoid such drama). This isn’t to say that you should become a gossip, because no one likes people with big mouths, but keep an eye on what’s happening in the industry. If anything, it gives you things to talk about when you meet other writers.
3. Be kind. And classy. You’d be surprised how far this gets you. In case Rule 4 didn’t convey this, word gets around. Even if you think no one knows who you are, odds are some people have heard of you. Don’t become notorious for starting drama or insulting other authors/agents/editors.
I knew a writer who really damaged their reputation by starting drama—and I was really shocked when I learned that people totally unconnected to that writer had heard of the drama and now thought negatively of said writer. So, be kind—be polite. Authors talk. Not just to each other, but to their agents and editors as well. You might not realize it now, but someday you might be sitting on a panel with the author whose book you slammed on Goodreads, or you might have your work on submission to that editor you whined about in your blog. If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.
2. Open as many doors as you can for others. This goes hand-in-hand with Rule 3. But I remember once explaining this to another writer, who balked at the idea of helping someone get ahead when she was having so much trouble doing it herself. She was afraid that if she helped out a fellow writer (just by reading/critiquing their query letter) that it would hurt her own chances of getting published and being successful. I found (and still find) that to be ridiculous. Someone once told me that lighting other candles doesn’t diminish the brightness of your own flame, and I couldn’t agree more.
Remembering to reach back is crucial—not because you want to gather a horde of people indebted to you, but because it’s a good thing to pay it forward. It’s good for your soul. I wouldn’t be in the position I’m in today if my fellow LTWF Contributor, Mandy Hubbard, hadn’t opened a door for me. Not only am I forever grateful for that kindness, but she inspired me to reach back to others, too. Please don’t become someone who shuts doors on people.
1. Don’t give up. Ever. This might seem pretty obvious, but this is the most important thing I’ve learned so far. The only thing/person standing in your way is YOU. Agents and editors might reject you left and right, but if you give up, the blame is on you. It only takes one person to say yes, and one phone call to change your life.
I know a writer who sent out 96 queries to agents. Her now-agent was number 95 on that list. She could have given up at 50 queries, or 60, or 94. But she kept querying, and the 95th agent was the one who said Yes. If getting published is your dream, then you’ll understand that it’s not how many times you get knocked down—it’s how many times you get back up. Keep getting back up.
**
So? What did you think? She's awesome, and you should go check out her blog. Like, right now! And keep a look out for her novel, QUEEN OF GLASS. A badass retelling of Cinderella. Sounds cool, no?
I just read a hilarious blog by the Intern, in which she talks about the cliches of high school in YA. An excerpt:
"Cherryville High is ruled by a ruthless posse of popular and pretty (but mean and anorexic!) cheerleaders named the Blossom Squad whose leader (more like a sultan! or a supreme court judge!) is a frigid ice queen named Stacey (who gets what's coming to her sometime in the third act when it is revealed that she has Issues!).
The Blossom Squad dates the Football Team (known as the Cherryville Stems!), which is composed of sweaty, muscular teenage boys who like to throw Raging House Parties when their parents are out of town (house parties at which their unfortunate tendencies towards date rape and alcoholism tend to come out) and who occasionally succumb (briefly!) to the romantic charms of a non-Blossom Squad female, dump her by leaving a nasty surprise in her Locker (how did he get into her locker???), then take her back at the last minute (usually in the final moments of Prom).
If you're not in the Blossom Squad or the Stems, you are by default a Pit (i.e. a cherry pit, but also a Misfit! with Misfit Issuuuuuuues!) You have a best friend (who is gay! or of the opposite sex! or nerdy about biochem to the point that she practically qualifies for a guide dog to help her navigate the world outside the science lab! but who ultimately fails to understand you in at least one Key Respect!) If you are a Pit, you might try to lay low, but there will eventually be something (ummmm....supernatural power? illicit romance w/Stem?) that will put you directly in Stacey's (like, the frigging SULTAN of the Blossom Squad's) crosshairs.
Whatever happens, it all gets wrapped up at Prom, which is more important than ANYTHING and at which there is generally some kind of massive showdown between Blossoms, Stems, Pits, and assorted bit characters like Hummer limo drivers and parents."
Wow. Reminds me of so many books I've read, but though I've been to high school, I don't remember it going like this.
The Intern's post inspired me to dismantle the cliches of Highschool in YA fiction (and those ridiculous movies, to be honest). This is all according to my high school experience, which may or may not fit with yours. Just a warning.
Here we go, with a little youtube help along the way:
1) The Queen Bee complex (Also known as the Regina George concept). Does it exist?
Yes and no.
I'm gonna go ahead and safely say that my school did NOT have a Regina George. There was no queen bee, no one who mattered quite that much. But we did have a trio of girls who thought they were queen bees, and in a small school (500 9-12 grade students total), it was hard to avoid them. They were a thorn in many people's sides, and yes, one of them was the head cheerleader.
In short? Regina George is a huge exaggeration of the very real, very annoying girl who shall remain unnamed.
2) Cliques? Do they exist? Is there pressure to stick to the status quo?
This might change with different high schools, but I don't remember any crazy need to JUST be a jock, or a brainiac, or a goth, or a skater. There were jocks in my math class, a goth football player, and people in the choir joined drama club.
There is a little bit of pressure to be "cool," I think. I noticed in the 7th and 8th graders I taught last year that it wasn't cool to like books TOO much. I think this is a growing problem that has to be addressed, and as much as I hate to say it, I think High School Musical helped that ridiculous notion of cliques and being "cool."
3) So Regina George is an myth. What about the misfit?
I may or may not have looked up to Julia Stiles as a role model in high school, but I don't know if anyone can truly be that pissed off all the time. Again, exaggeration.
4) Crazy House Parties!
Sidenote: Wasn't he so CUUUUUTTEEE back then? Shame little Carter grew up.
No really, he's ugly. Go google him.
I'm not exactly the leading expert on house parties, and I'll be the first to say that house parties in high school can be dangerous (and really, there are so many other ways to have fun), but I'm pretty sure they're nothing like the above video, and even less like the ones from Never Been Kissed, Ten Things I Hate About You, and Drive Me Crazy. I'm picturing awkward people trying to get drunk and do stupid things under the guise of alcohol.
5) OMG PROM!
Really, SHE'S ALL THAT? Really?
I had to laugh out loud watching this, because not only is their prom venue a bazillion times cooler than anything my high school could even dream up, they also have a choreographed dance that even the best cheerleaders would have issues learning.
Notice how the main characters steer clear of that dance scene...
Prom is hyped up a lot, with expectations that range from normal (let's have fun and stay up late and dance until our feet hurt!) to crazed (this is the most important night of my life. Ever.) But it's usually nothing like the movies. Drama happens, sure, but not Usher style drama. The most exciting thing that happened at my prom was that the DJ knew the Napoleon dance.
*silence*
Er, moving on...
That's actually all I've got, and the moral of this myth busting challenge seems to be that yeah, YA novels and movies exaggerate. A lot. But there are grains of truth sprinkled throughout the insanity. Popular girls that suck self-esteem like vampires suck blood, cliques that can make people ashamed of their passions in life, misfits that insist on rebelling so much that they sometimes become callous, and the holy grail: The Prom. It can be amazing, it can get ugly, and, I guess it can have life long effects (if you make some really bad choices). But for the most part, it's just a really fun dance.
I understand why High School is made into such cliches sometimes, though. Isn't that what movies and books do? They take the ordinary and make it something fantastical? As long as teenagers don't freak out too much that there's no spontaneous choreographed dancing to make life more musical, I think everyone will be just fine with these hyped up, over-exaggerated situations.
For those of you who didn't go to a good ol' American High School, of for those of you who went a REALLY long time ago, I hope this post de-mystified a lot of what the media is claiming these days. And I hope you enjoyed reading this post as much as I enjoyed looking up the youtube videos for it.
I'm punking out again today, because I feel guilty writing anything that doesn't have to do with a) The question of whether there is one linear gay and lesbian history in the past 30 years or b) The presence of the supernatural in Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre.
That being said, I'm really excited about where this blog is going, and Spilling Ink has been huge in that. Today's post is just going to be my ideas to make this blog a more interesting, fun, helpful place for writers and friends.
Woot!
Ideas:
That interview I did the other day was TOO much fun. I think I'd like to do that with more characters, with a few different surveys. You know, those cheesy ones that keep circulating through myspace. So maybe every Monday will involve a character survey.
Youtube videos. I want to put one at the end of every post, but that's a bit excessive, I think. So, maybe just every other post? Or just once a week?
Writing advice. Sigh. Look to the left. Now back. Sadly, I am not any of the cool bloggers listed. But I'll try my best. Wednesdays. Get ready, because that's tomorrow.
Alright, that's all I got. Maybe this post will be edited once I'm done with my 15-20 pages of writing today/tomorrow.
If you cut me at this moment, I would bleed coffee.
Seriously.
Enough with the graphic visuals though, and onwards to finish of the first week of the Spilling Ink challenge!
OH. I have to write something?
Tennyson was part of a poetic movement that grated against R. Browning's politicized ideas. Tennyson believed that poetry should be escapism. There's a name for the team he was on (ok it wasn't really a team), but I forgot it. Browning's friends, Rossetti and someone else, shared his beliefs.
Three major movements we studied in my English class were Victorianism, Romanticism, and Modernism (not in that order). Neoclassicism had a large part in a few of these, along with aestheticism.
I feel so brain dead right now.
Disclaimer: I totally didn't have internet last night, or this would have been posted sooner.
As it is, there's nothing amazing about this post other than the fact that I'm still alive. Maybe that's only interesting to me though.
I'll be back later with Spilling Ink: Day 8. Hopefully it'll be more interesting than this post.
I've tried writing about four different things now, and I can't. I can't I can't I can't.
Alright. Let's talk about sympathetic characters. My friends read the interview with Rachel last night, and one uttered, "she sounds like a bitch."
Whoops.
I personally love Rachel. I think that she's gone through a lot. Combine that with being 17 and you've got an attitude just waiting to dole out some snarky comment or another. I love snarky comments.
She's nice, though. I swear.
UGH. Is this post over yet now? No?
*taps fingers, tries to think of something worthwhile to write about*
I'm drinking green tea. I want to write a scene from book 2. I have 15 pages to write by Tuesday at 5pm. I also have a final.
I'm wearing high heels because I'm out of practice and apparently, I like to torture myself.
I watched becoming Jane last night. It was just as bad/good as the last time I saw it. I'd watch it again, but I wasn't impressed.
I also unintentionally performed at open mic night last night. Sang a song I wrote. Got stage fright. It was awesome, as usual. Also very nerve wracking.
Ladies and gentlemen of the blogosphere, the prosecution would like to convict and sentence the Bronte sisters to a life of anonymity. Their crime?
Existence.
Oh. And having the nerve to write books that would haunt children via schoolwork and papers for generations to come. These women are almost as bad as Shakespeare.
*audience gasp*
**
Sigh. I think I just hit the amount of crazy that enables me to write skits based on literary figures iHate. But enough of Kira's complaining, lest you think she doesn't realize how blessed she is to even get an education. Even if it is a particularly stuffy one.
I kid, I kid.
Anyways, I wanted to take day five of the Spilling Ink challenge and make a confession: I haven't read the book this challenge is based off of. I got the idea from this blog, the writer of which has clearly read the book. *shifty eyes*
The point of that particular confession is that there are apparently writing prompts at some intervals (I think), and I haven't been following them. Except yesterday. On accident. Yeah. I accidentally followed guidelines. Sort of.
Yesterday's post (on imaginary friends, if you haven't read it) coincided oddly with the prompt from day 4, which is about characters and making them real. My post was basically talking about how real characters can be sometimes.
Cool, right? Or creepy. Take your pick.
The post went on though, and it involved an "interview" to get to know your character. Just to be interesting, I figured I'd fill that out today, with a little help from Rachel (my main character from Morgantown). We're BFFs. But only I can see her.
... ok just forget I said that.
ONWARDS:
1. What is your happiest memory(ies)? My first date with Michael. Thai restaurant. We almost got kicked out, but it was worth it.
2. What makes you laugh so hard soda shoots out of your nose? I don't really do that. I came close once, though. Kerrie slipped in a puddle of mud and got all dirty. She almost had a heart attack. Priceless.
3. What don't you want anyone to find out about you? None of your business.
4. What is the best part of your personality? My endless wit and cheerful demeanor. Gets me miles ahead of the curve.
5. What shoes do you usually wear? I don't really pay attention to shoes. I mean, does it even matter in the long run if I'm wearing sneakers or heels? Except that I can't run in heels. Or walk. Next question.
6. Name some things you are not very good at. Walking or running in heels.
7. How would your best freind describe how you look? As Bree would say, "If you just started caring, you'd look like a goddess." Makes me wonder what I look like normally.
8. What are you afraid of? The man on the moon. What? Like I'm going to tell you my deepest darkest fear? No way in hell.
9. What do you think of yourself when you look in the mirror? I don't like my shoulders. My left one, specifically.
10. What does your bedroom look like? Lots of windows on one side. A bed. Staircase. Fireplace. There's a bookshelf, but most of the books aren't mine. Old encyclopedias and stuff. My computer, a pile of clothes, a dresser (that I don't use that much), aaaand a really tacky lamp.
**
Rachel would also like you to know that she thinks that interview was lame, and why couldn't I come up with better questions? Don't mind her. She's a bit on the moody side of 17.
I guess that wraps up Day 5 of Spilling Ink for me! Sorry if I'm not staying on topic very well.
SONG! I'm not actually sure where I found this, but it makes me happy in a sad sort of way.
Three days and four posts later, I'm feeling like a hard core blogger. I wonder when I'll run out of stuff to write about? My life isn't terribly interesting, and yet this month has almost completely been just about me. So let's take 24 hours out and talk about the wonder that is writing.
*cricket, cricket*
Aw crap. What should I talk about?
There are so many people out there talking about writing, that I feel like I have nothing to add. Anything I could say, any tips I could share, it's all been said and done before. I mean, there are the agents like Nathan Bransford, Scott Egan, and Janet Reid. They've written time and time again on everything from queries to contests to reading (oh my!). You want an author's perspective? The big shots out there like Kiersten White and Mandy Hubbard share a lot about writing. Then there's a whole list of blogs on the left side of this screen that you can go check out for any literary topic under the sun.
Clearly, there's no shortage of advice on the internet. So what can I write about on this fine morning?
Imaginary friends.*
No, I don't mean the kind that people in padded white cells have. No, I'm not talking about your kid's creepy playmates.
I'm talking about MY creepy playmates. And yours, if you write at all. I firmly believe that characters are every writer's imaginary friends. A great writing teacher once said that 90% of writing is thinking. So, if you spend an hour writing, you're spending a LOT more time thinking about what you're writing. Dreams, daydreaming, doodling on the side of your evil english class's notes, that's all just quality time with your story.
Which just boils down to quality time with your characters... you know, your imaginary BFFs. Except that sometimes they might try to kill each other. But every friendship has its complications, right?
Ok, I'm pretty sure I sound like a crazy person now. Still, though, I have some characters that I wish I could hang out with for real (like a certain smexy Ryan Reynolds look-alike. Meow, baby), but it's still cool to spend time with them while I'm working on their stories.
Am I right, or should I start packing for that white padded cell? At least I'll have good company...
***
*Note: I usually censor myself more thoroughly, but this whole spilling ink challenge is letting some of the crazy get out. Please don't hold it against me.
I wrote this yesterday and I'm so glad I did. I've been in the library for the past twelve hours fighting desperately to write a stupid final essay for a stupid class and it's so. damn. stupid.
Yep, that's right. Eloquence has gone out of the window, peeps. Wave goodbye, because it won't be back until I get a decent ten or so hour nap. True Story. Anyways, here's the randomness that is Spilling Ink (Day 3):
**
This summer is going to Rock. It is going to rock so hard, and I cannot wait. Awesome summer commences in t-minus 6 days. I'll go to Pride fest (for the second year in a row, thank you very much), then soon I'll be off to Texas, where I'll be tempted to hire someone just to say "let the adventures begin." Yes. It's going to be epic.
But I have no plans for next summer, so let's make some, shall we? Not that I'm not grateful, but it's always good to be prepared, right?
Goals for summer 2011 (some of which are totally doable, some of them not so much):
1) Europe. It's a continent I haven't seen yet, though I've wanted to go since I was a wee child (oh god. you see why I have to go?) My grandma promised me a trip, and by that point I'll need a graduation present. A trip to Dublin or London or Greece sounds like paradise
2) Writer Conference. FOR THE WIN! Oh gosh, I've been wanting to go to one of these for a while. BEA would be ideal, and by ideal I mean crazy awesome! Backspace would be cool. I don't actually know of any others, but yeah.
3) Guatemala. This would cancel out some other stuff, but a few friends and I are thinking of doing a research grant and starting up a new school in rural Guatemala. One friend will be working there this summer, and I'm a little jealous. Doesn't that sound cool?
4) Sailing. That was technically supposed to be part of this summer, but weddings trumped my desire to be a pirate. I'd like to do that next summer. Live on the high seas, and all that jazz.
5) I kind of don't want to admit this, but I'll go ahead and do it: Harry Potter convention. Ok. There. I said it. A whole group of people obsessed with Harry Potter? Yes please. There are a ton of them, though the biggest one is Infinitus (or at least that's what I've heard). So I want to go to that.
6) Comic Con. 'Nuff Said.
7) Write. I feel like this is always a goal, but summer is always the best time to get some serious writing done. So that's a goal, I guess.
**
I know I haven't posted much about writing so far this June, but I PROMISE my next post will be all writerly... and stuff. Though it will have nothing to do with Christina Rossetti, T.S. Eliot, or Tiresias. Because I'm sick of those people. SO done with them for the next few months of my life.
Alright. Time to power through the last page of my essay. Godspeed. *runs onto battlefield*
Alright, here is the obligatory post on Dillo Day. For those of you who aren't NU students, let me explain:
Dillo day is an annual celebration of almost-summer. The university always intends for it to be a simple day of fun in the sun, with about four free concerts (two big names, two random bands). Vendors, free food, kites, paint, the lake. In a word, perfection. Simple, innocent, perfection.
It never turns out that way though, does it? Because we the students do our very best to turn Dillo Day into Woodstock (part 2). Alcohol, hookah, random make out sessions (and who knows what else), and inevitable nudity on someone's part (maybe I'm exaggerating a teensy bit, but still). Innocent or no, Dillo Day is NU's only reparation for the extra two or three weeks of school we have to put up with.
I've attended three of these wondrous events so far, and this year's was the best. By far. Why? Oh, there were a ton of reasons, but the main one was REGINA SPEKTOR.
Can I repeat that?
REGINA SPEKTOR CAME TO NORTHWESTERN!! YES.
Naturally, my day started off on a high point because of that. Second row, baby. Then I hung out with some of my writerly friends. Danced around a bit, got sunburn, listened to Guster, got more sunburn, watched kites in the air, got really really sunburned, and then painted my arm red, blue, pink, and green. Why? I have no idea. It seemed like a good idea at the time though. I laid on the rocks by the lake for a while, then went to my friend's house for a few drinks and more than a few laughs. We stopped at Hop Haus for dinner, watched a bit of the Hawks game (ok, they watched... I pretended to understand hockey for .5 seconds), then went back to the Dillo Day field to see Nelly.
Nelly was... not Regina Spektor. He played three songs that I knew, and people pushed me around. But that's ok, because the moon was red and there were fireworks afterwards. Fireworks make almost everything acceptable. For real.
So that's how my Dillo Day went. Pretty cool, huh? The only downside: because of the immense sunburn (don't look at me like that, I put sunblock on like twice! SPF 50!), I've been recovering for the past three days, and I'm almost out of Aloe Vera (which I slather on like it ain't no thang). But for Regina Spektor? Second Row? Totally worth it. Check the pix. Oh. And this vid (not her best music video, but one of my favorite songs):
So as I'm sure you know, I suck at keeping up with this blog. I've tried. Dear god, I've tried. I have about 5 drafts on topics ranging from byronic heroes to the perfect summer, but none of them made it to the actual blog. Obviously.
I just came across this post on Twitter, a challenge, if you will, to write a blog post every single day of June. Spilling ink. Maybe good things will come from it, but at the very least you'll be entertained. I hope.
So here goes, 30 straight days of bloggage. It'll definitely be an eventful 30 days. I need to write three papers, take a final, pack up my stuff, finalize apartment papers, fix the financial aid mess, move some of my stuff into my apartment for next year, drive to Milwaukee, dejunk everything, pack for Texas, shop for Puerto Rico and Florida, exercise, GO to Texas, and collapse. Not in that order.
Good god. I had no idea I had so damn much to do. That's not even counting my number one goal at all times: Make writing progress. Oy.
Today is the last meeting for No Strangers to Fiction, my writing group here on campus. It's just a party, but it's my last day as "president." I put that in quotes because it's always a group effort. But still. My friend Liz and I created it, and so many great things happened as a result. I'm going to miss being "president," and don't even get me started on how much I'm going to miss it when I graduate next year.
I'll post eventually on Dillo Day, but let me just say how painful and awesome it was! Awesome dominated the majority of the day, and painful kicked in the next morning when I realized how ineffective SPF 50 can get. But more on that later.
For now, I've got to work on Epic Paper Number 1, due Thursday. The Wasteland.
I'm an amateur musician, pro wine drinker, and lumberjack enthusiast. I have an English degree. Yes, I have a job. I live all over. Kind of like Gandalf. Oh. Did I mention I write books?
Posts
