Marathon Writing

On Friday, Doc challenged me to a writing contest. My first reaction was to ask if the contest was who could write more, or who could write better - he acted like I stabbed him in the back XD

The rules were to write as many radio scripts as possible before midnight on Sunday. We had to include an introductory bit of audio as well, which I usually do last, so that made it a touch harder. I didn't expect to do very many; it can take a while to do one of these well. It's easier if it's an author I'm already familiar with, and considerably more difficult if it's an author that Doc gave me to looks up. He's assigned me to some pretty obscure people in the past, which is part of the reason finding audio is the hardest part for me.

I'd say I put some seven or eight hours into writing nine scripts over the weekend. To make an already difficult task even worse, my Internet spent a large part of the weekend broken. We've had problems for a long time, but it's lasted without much issue for the past couple of months. Figures that it would start acting up when it did. On Sunday, I spent literally an hour and a half on hold trying to reach the Internet technician. Never did get a hold of them.

So at 8PM Sunday night, I packed up my laptop and went to my parents place to wrap up this contest. On the way, Doc texts me and offers an extension for me to Monday at 6:00. I turned him down because I knew I'd be babysitting in the morning (grandparents had a funeral). Even with that, I still stayed in Little Rock past midnight, swapping witticisms and taunts with Doc through e-mail. He conceded defeat ten minutes after midnight. Finally made it home around 1AM, knew I would have to get up sometime around nine.

Basically, I spent the weekend earning my nickname. I've become very attached to being called Rodette.

The authors I chose were Brian Jacques, Dorothy Parker, Dostoyevsky, e.e. Cummings, Margaret Mitchell, Nabokov, P.L. Travers, Dante Rossetti, and Jesse Stuart. I've only read three of these authors XD

I'll have to revise them of course, but I think most of them are already in pretty good shape. I'm still the most proud of my Agatha Christie and Rod Serling pieces, but I think the Nabokov is going to end up being one of my favorites. I think he turned out well.

Today we were nearly late for Drama. We wasted a lot of time going back and forth about the competition. He had a ridiculous amount of fun, and I'm happy for that. I know he's been stressed lately. It was nice seeing him relaxed and happy.

 

The blue W is my trophy. He'll be wanting that back, so I'm sure we'll do this again. Not anytime soon - I'm not writing him another script for a while XD

Complimentary Baptism

I should start a list entitled "Nice Things Dr. Minnick has Said to Me."

Apparently I would make a phenomenal editor for my ability to both see bigger pictures and the things on the microscopic level. I've been reading over a story of his the last few weeks and I kinda really love it. The second half is still rather rough, but the first half is really wonderful. He kinda has this Winesburg, Ohio thing going on - it's a book of place and atmosphere and Minnick is really good at atmosphere. He has some really beautiful lines scattered all throughout the entire thing.

Anyway, I called him about this latest chapter and ended up getting baptized with compliments for being so helpful to him while doing my own thing and writing radio scripts and postcards and I'm just really pleased with myself at the moment because he's so sweet <3

In return, he's been helping me pick my way though this Fiction II assignment of mine. I need to submit something that's a minimum of eight pages on Monday, and length isn't something I do. I was trying to turn Escape Velocity into something longer, but that's just not going to fly. Anything I add to it is just going to be padding. Instead I'm going to see if I can't expand Feelings with no names instead - there's more substance to that one that I think I could make longer - it's just a matter of finding a way to tie them together into a larger picture.

And that's my life of late. Writing and reading a lot of stuff.

A Real Writer

"I know real writers and I know people that write for a living; they aren't the same thing."

In the hierarchy of amazing compliments gifted to me, being called a real writer is right up there with the time a librarian told me I had very brave taste in books.

Minnick just gets it. He knows what I'm trying to do with my writing and why I do it. He understands about giving your work away and I don't have to explain it. It's just so refreshing to talk to someone like that. I've been reading over a story of his the past few days, which is how I ended up in a two hour conversation with him in the computer lab. Things were kinda all over the place, but there are a few moments I want to keep.

One was him noting that I seemed happier. I didn't really notice, but, now that it's been pointed out, I am happier. A lot of it has been reflected in my postcards; several of them have been far more cheerful than my usual fare. And I know it's because I have someone IRL to go back and forth with the way we have been.

Two was being told that these cards of mine are something special. I already knew he felt that way, but it's nice to actually hear it.

Three was the line I started with up there - hearing that he thought I was a "real" writer, a person that writes for myself and because I want to, not someone that writes to be famous. I don't think I could write for a living. I don't want to write because I have to eat.

Now he has me listening to Springsteen's Born to Run and I'm going to send him a rock opera of my own in return XP I'm not sure how we got on to that topic, but whatever. It's been a good night.

Some Autumn and Lawrence Stuff

Just some scraps and pieces I've had lying around in my files for a while.

______

She felt an arm descend around her shoulders and jumped, whipping her head around to face the intruder. She blinked to see it was only Professor Bradley.

“Wh – “

“Bit late for a stroll isn’t it, dear?” he squeezed her shoulder gently, flicking his eyes somewhere behind her head. So he had noticed.

“Feel like a coffee?”

“Um, I don’t drink coffee actually…” She mentally palmed her forehead. It wasn’t about the coffee. He covered her tracks.

“Tea, then. Come on, I know a place nearby.”

He led her away briskly, and she let him tug her around a corner and out of sight. The man was still back there, but she felt safe enough without his eyes boring into her back to let out a sigh. Professor Bradley’s arm was still resting on her shoulders.

 ______

Somebody, I don't recall who now, requested a sort of "Bradley rescues Autumn" scene. I'll write an actual short with it sometime, but this has been sitting for a while now.

______

"You can't swim?"

"I can swim;" Bradley held up a finger. "It just makes me nervous. Nearly drowning will do that to you."

 ______

 Lawrence nearly drowned as a child. He never really got over the fear completely, but it's a distant enough memory that it doesn't bother him very often.

 ______

 "Here," he presented the bloom to her. "These grow all along the border of my fence at home. They're rather tall, so I have to cut them down every year." He smiled. "I thought you might like a few for your collection."

______

The first vaguely romantic thing Lawrence ever did for Autumn was give her a larkspur flower. It's meaning is "beautiful spirit." Autumn keeps books of pressed flowers.

Nearly Refreshed

If anyone reads this, I need to be reminded to update this thing on occasion D=

No change in my status since the last post except that I am growing increasingly excited as school draws near. And I'm working on some poetry. Even though I really do need to be writing more stuff for my independent study.

I scribbled unicorns for my mother

and colored in mandala patterns

for my father,

but rarely got an extra glance

for my artistic endeavors.

I put them on my bedroom walls

instead of our blank white refrigerator,

where I could be proud of myself

(since no one would be so for me).

I rather like where this one is going.

New Year, Same Old

I traded in my old DS XL for a 3DS XL. Awesome.

Right now I'm working my way through Pokemon Black 2 and I don't have any 3DS games yet, so I can't say much about how I like it. It's pretty much the same as the old DS with some new features. But eventually new games are all going to be for this system, and some of the ones I really want are already on it, so I may as well upgrade. The new Professor Layton is on the 3DS, and so is the latest Kingdom Hearts installment and the 999 sequel Zero Escape: Virtue's Last Reward.

Anyway, Black 2 has been a lot of fun thus far. Just looking at the town map, you can tell they've added a LOT of content - at least two completely new sections for one thing, and it's really neat to see how things have changed in the two years since the last game. I'm finding it a little harder to level up than normal, but I'm catching Pokemon a lot easier so I guess that's a fair trade.

In other things, I'm taking on the Glory-Be project this year - that is, writing something every day. I bought myself three notebook while out today. One for the actual project, one for a weekly color poem, and the third I'm not sure what I want to do with quite yet. And at the end of the year, participants will exchange notebooks <3 Since I give mine away all the time, it will be neat to finally be able to read from someone else.


Resolutions? No. Projects? Yes. =D

My Other Blog

I've had a WordPress account for a while, but didn't really have anything to do with it. I'd been mulling over the possibility of using one blog for personal things and the other exclusively for writing, and now I'm going to try that experiment. Not that I'll never talk about writing over here or anything, but, if I can manage it, that's all I'll talk about on WordPress, and hopefully more in-depth over there.

I'm also planning to read and record some pieces I've written. I've finally figured out a decent method that eliminates most of the background noise and makes it easy to record, convert, and upload. So I now maintain this blog, a writing blog, a weekly dA update, and my creative writing journal. Four journals yall. So hardcore.

Priorities; I Have Them.

I wrote a poem tonight. Awesome.

I had already written Chalk White and knew I wanted to do more with it. But I had more or less forgotten all about the Poetry Screams contest. For some reason, I remembered tonight and pull my Word document up.

I like to research things when it comes to my writing. Initially, I was getting a bit of a Civil War vibe from the piece. It went in a totally different direction when my Google searching somehow landed me on will-o'-the-wisps. Then I found the local legend of a weird lantern light not far from where I live. It worked perfectly with the "beckoning lanterns" line I already had.

I love it when things fall into place. I do want to work more on it some time, but I like it a lot where it stands.

Oh yeah, and I voted today too. Whatever.

I Fail at Pattern Recognition in My Own Life

I don't know why I only realized it a few days ago, but I give my writing away a lot.

My postcard project that I've been leaving for Dr. Minnick, my writing notebooks, my supposed-to-be-exclusively-for-classwork reflection journals, inserted into letters, left on sidewalks in chalk or on dry-erase boards - it's like I have this pseudo-obsession with leaving it all lying around for somebody to find.

I'm not sure what this says about me - that I want to be read? Discovered? Or I just like making somebody's day a little more surreal? (I think it's the last one.)

Last week, Dr. Minnick was asking if I kept the original copies and drafts of my work, which is how I noticed this pattern. I do keep all of my work - right up until I give away another notebook. I often post initial drafts online for feedback as well, so things are rarely lost for me. Still won't use Stash. Anyway, I was explaining my habit of mailing off my notebooks to him and he's the one all of my postcards go to; having the two things side-by-side in my head made me realize how often I just give my work away.

It honestly puzzles me now that I think about it. Aren't writers supposed to be possessive of their work or something? I never really thought twice about it until now.

October

One of my favorite months <3 Been having some lovely weather lately - kinda grey and rainy, though not very much rain. It's very relaxing.

I didn't catch up on as much homework as I would have liked over the weekend, but I managed a lot. Mainly my Lit. journal. Need to finish some linguistic stuff before Thursday too, and get my Algebra website issue straightened out, but I feel a little more balanced than I did last week.

Other than that, I've been working on a piece for Poetry Screams. Dr. Minnick is wonderfully helpful and I really do need to buy him lunch sometime. It's the least I owe him. Currently on my third draft of this thing; my library group aside, I don't have much occasion to share my writing with people I know IRL. And even less occasion to ask advice from people who really know what they're doing.

He really wants me to do something with those postcards though - apparently that's a publishable idea. I'm not really sold on that, but I guess I can at least mull it over and try some things. I'm glad he likes reading them because I really enjoy writing them X3

Disbanded

I had something to post about, but I forgot it. I'll talk about writing class instead.

Today was a wonderful writing class after a string of terrible ones. Terrible in that I was the only regular showing up. Once was due to all the rain scarring everybody off (even though I was coming from the furthest away). Two weeks later, I was once again the only one showing up. And the class before this, same deal.

Apparently what has happened it one of the regulars never got one of his pieces back from the writing group - we have lives, people lose papers; that's how it is. However, he's convinced that they stole it. Why? I don't know. So he's not showing up because he thinks his work will get stolen, and the other two regulars aren't showing because they've been accused of stealing, and I've been sitting in the classroom wondering what the hell happened to everybody.

All this came out today's session because Jen had been saying that something had happened but wasn't spilling any details until I kept pressing. The upside to this is that around the time everyone started dropping, some new writers decided to show up and we effectively have a new group of people.

The new group is very open to criticism and learning, and today was more about how to give critique than an actual workshop as is usual the second meeting of the month. Both are older ladies who are kinda novices at writing - one writes poems with that painfully sing-songy end rhyme and the other writes prose though I've not had a chance to read anything from her yet.

So yeah. The old group had a good run I guess, but it looks like it's gone. I can't figure out why he thinks his work has been stolen. If I can put everything I have online without worrying about copyright, he shouldn't have such a big issue =/ None of us in the group are/were anywhere close to publishing level or anything, so it's not like that's a factor.

At the end of the day, all of my stuff goes online because I would only be depriving myself of learning opportunities by hoarding it. If I want to get to publishing level, I have to put it out there. That's just how it works.



Note to Self: Minnick recommends Joe Meno. Look him up later. Second note to Self: catch up on Approaches to Lit. journal this weekend.

This is Pretty Cool

Got this in the mail today, from DrippingWords:

The outside

The inside

It's a collection of most of the color poems from myself and people around dA. And will possibly expand to include the people of Goodreads where the form has apparently taken off as well =D 

I knew she was making me something for my birthday, but I didn't see this coming at all. I also have a new penpal (assuming I can manage full letters on a regular basis anyway).

Meanwhile, Minnick has been encouraging me to take pictures or keep notes of my Postcard Fiction project, so here's what that looks like as well:

I try to make the story and picture match when I can, with varied levels of success. The latest batch of pieces I wrote were directly inspired by some of the cards I've bought online which turned out pretty nicely. I'm glad he seems to like reading them because I really enjoy writing them <3 I like the extra dimension the card gives to the story.

Suddenly, a Knock on the Door

Etgar Keret is my new favorite author and I'll never again doubt any book recommendations Minnick sends my way.

I've been reading and writing flash fiction for years, but never realized there were people who did it professionally. I've seen authors write flash fic of course, but it was usually a one off thing on the side, for a magazine or something. This is exactly the kind of thing I've always wanted to find in a brick-and-mortar bookstore.

I picked up Suddenly a Knock on the Door about a week ago and read the entire thing in a few hours. Partly because I hated to put it down, but also because it isn't very long - I think the longest story in there was maybe five or six pages, if that. I was kinda reminded of Harris Burdick stories; you just kinda go with a lot of the logic and don't really question it. Of course there's a magic gumball machine buried under a stone in that guy's childhood backyard and he found out about it through a dream. Why wouldn't there be? It almost borders on magical realism at times. I really enjoyed the nonchalant tone that even the strangest events were treated with.

It's kinda neat to realize there are people out there doing what I've been doing and being successful at it. I didn't realize there was an audience for flash fiction outside of the Internet.

Writing Letters

I think anyone who reads my stuff with any regularity knows I send mail like it's going out of style (well, it is, but that's beside the point). But as often as I talk about postcards, I don't really talk about my letters so much.

Basically, if you aren't related to me and you matter to me in some important way, you get a letter. It's that simple. I've written them to friends, teachers, veterans, and even complete strangers when I felt like striking up a penpal relationship. And not some short one page nonsense - I write long letters. At least three or four pages usually.

So when Letters-To-Myself put up a challenge to write a letter to a teacher, I think it was inevitable that I would ending up writing one for Minnick. Everyone important gets a letter. That's how I operate.

I don't really know how or why I began doing that, but I think it's a good habit to cultivate. People deserve to know when they're making a difference, even if it's only to one person. Letters are the best way I've found to say what you need to say to someone, when you need to get all the thoughts organized, or even when you don't know what to say at all.

One of the reasons I wasn't going to write it was because I wasn't sure what I could say that he didn't already know. But once I started, I found it. I knew I had something to say, but I had to find it first and that's when that old essay popped up and I guess a few things just clicked for me.

Anyway, I was really writing to say I did give it to him this afternoon, because I know someone will ask me that and I may as well get it out of the way. Apparently, you get those sorts of letters when you need them.

Postcard Fiction

I wrote it a thousand times on my 1940’s typewriter, practiced the words mentally a million times, mouthed the sentence into my pillow every night for years – but only said it once, aloud, to your casket.

I enjoy one-sentence flash fic. This one was prompted by the photo one one of these cute little postcards I ordered that came in yesterday. Part of that project I mentioned last entry, that I've decided to name Postcard Fiction. I'm really enjoying the idea a lot now that I've had time to mull it over more. I have so many cards now, and I bought a few stamps to play with and I think I can have a bit of fun to pass around throughout the year.

First Day Back

You know how you get good ideas at weird times? That happened to me last night.

I went to bed early like a good student is supposed to; 2 AM, I'm still awake, and I think to myself I should have written some postcards to stuff in the professor's mailboxes. Instead of rolling over and ignoring the impulse, I realized it actually was a good idea, got up, fished out a card, and wrote a welcome back message for Dr. Minnick. But only one since it was so late.

I've since written one to the new linguistics professor, welcoming him to campus, and I've had time to refine the idea after some stuff in Adolescent Lit. But I'll get there momentarily.

My day began with History of the English Language (the one the new professor is teaching). My first impressions are that it's going to be a rigorous course, but an interesting one. After the usual syllabus stuff, we got to do some decoding with runic script, which was pretty neat. It's hard to say from one class if I'm going to like it or not - if it is going to be a lot of decoding like that, it might get old quickly. Then again, I do like puzzles. We'll see.

Next up is Algebra. The first day was not promising - we couldn't get into the classroom. On the bright side, we left quickly.

Approaches to Literature seems pretty fun so far. My initial impression was of an easy A. I think it will be a mostly reading and discussion sort of class, which tend to be my favorites. And we're reading Calvino in there later this year and I believe I've made my love of Calvino clear in the past <3

And thus we come to Adolescent Literature and I don't need to tell anyone how much I love this class. I enjoy the books, I enjoy the discussions, I love the professor - I'm here for the fun of it.

I've mentioned Minnick and I were swapping writing projects back and forth, and today he made a point of starting class with a close reading of a piece of flash fiction because he knew I would be there. Which is where I got a second idea for my postcard thing - he loves flash fic and one-sentence stories and all those really brief forms of writing. In short, fragments. So I've like to write a new one on a postcard say, every week, and stuff it in his mailbox. One of the names for flash fiction is "postcard fiction," so it's rather satisfying that way. And I do have an abundance of postcards now that I've started to make my own.

I dunno, *I* thought it was a neat idea. And it'll keep me in a bit of practice.

Daily Deviation

Or, Why I Nearly Fell Out of Bed This Morning.

I can't explain how ridiculously pleased I am to have landed a DD on Superimpose. I am so grateful for this. Not that I was any less grateful for the honor on Recycled Dreams but this - this is personal. This was lifted right from the past six months or so. It means more to me than Recycled Dreams did, and more than most of the things in my gallery come to that.

I've had the pleasure of being good friends with an absolutely wonderful, amazing teacher these past few months. I love the guy and look up to him a lot and he's just been so encouraging to me in regards to writing and trying to point me in the right direction. I'm glad I grew enough spine to give him the piece - usually, I keep my work more or less to myself (outside of online of course, where I'm always under the guise of a certain amount of anonymity). I can't recall anyone else who's ever asked to read more things from me just because, not as part of a class. He's always been so kind to me and taken the time to chat even when he's busy. That guidance means a lot to me.

I was in the English lounge on Thursday, which was when he told me he would be the new Associate Dean and wouldn't be doing much teaching before long. I really am happy for him and he seemed excited about the prospect, even though I really would have loved to keep taking classes under him. It won't effect Fall semester though, so I still have one more round of Adolescent Lit. and I'm taking his Career Perspectives class as well. Maybe I'll have something to add on to Superimpose before Christmas break.

Even if I don't see him as much in the course of his new role, I'm really happy to have known him as a professor. A dean or someone in that kind of position seems kinda unapproachable, and I wouldn't have had a reason to meet them anyway.

I'm getting kinda rambly because I'm not entirely sure how to say all the things I want to say. I feel like I've learned a lot, though most of it was outside of the classroom and I guess he kinda became something of a mentor figure to me without me ever really noticing it. I know he'll be busier than ever as the Associate Dean, but if he ever has a few minutes to spare, I hope he'll continue being that person. And that I can still help out with his writing project =)

Interesting.

I've been getting into the habit of paying a visit to the English department at least once a week. Nothing against my family or anything, but I need to converse with people IRL that I am not related to and who are not a cat on occasion. Getting away from the baby for a little while is just a bonus.

I'm writing away in the lounge area for a little while (working on something for Flash Fic Month today), and I usually stay until someone kicks me out. That responsibility typically falls to Minnick as he's almost always the last person to leave the department. On the way out, we chat about writing and he offers to start an exchange of sorts.

I think I managed to impress him with that character sketch.

I'm used to giving and returning critique and comments online, and I'm used to swapping writing with my group at the library, but this already feels different. I've never gone one-on-one before, and certainly not with someone who knows a hella lot more than I do - with the other stuff, everyone has been on more or less equal ground. It seems like most of the people I'm in contact with are primarily self-taught, the only real difference being in raw talent and number of years had to refine it.

I'm not really sure what I'm getting myself into, but I think it will be interesting XD

In other news, I have helped start a book club on dA. I'm probably going to move my Passages there and I'll be writing a book review every month. Not sure what I'm getting myself into there either, but again, interesting.

Journaling Ideas

I found this neat list on StumbleUpon tonight. It's a list of journaling ideas. I'm considering trying some of them out since I have so many notebooks. I don't know if I really have the dedication to keep multiple journals at once, but it seems like such a cool project to try out.

I've tried to keep a dream journal in the past, but I just can't function when I first wake up so that's out, much as I wish I could manage it. There are several on that list I think I could find the time for:

- A journal for when it rains. I really love this one. It's so simple but sometimes simple is best.
- Write minimally - one sentence a day. Given how much I love doing Fragments, this could be an ideal match to my personal writing style.
- A collaborative journal. I'd be all over this if I had someone around here that I could write back and forth with. I think it would be a lot of fun.

The link also includes a whole bunch of writing experiments for the interested. I may try a few of them out as well.

Summer Passing Me By

I'm just updating because I'm bored, not because I actually have anything to talk about.

Here's an excerpt from something I've been working on:

It’s strange to see that image superimposed over the current one – the distinguished professor in pressed khaki slacks and a jacket, worn brown loafers exuding a faintly courteous manner (you can always tell them by their shoes), and a ring on the fourth finger of his left hand – versus the athletic kid who went to college for a semester and grew nine inches to tall to keep doing what he loved so he took up a tennis racquet instead. 

I'm rather happy with the whole thing to be honest. I'll be posting it soon for Flash Fic Month.