Did you know that I wrote a book? I did the whole deal: first draft, second draft...tenth draft. I had a published author, a creative writing professor from an Ivy League college, and my beloved English teachers as mentors. It evolved for three years, and I happily watched it grow and transform into something I was very proud of. I self-published it, then looked into "real" publishing. I wrote a quarry letter to an agent, drafted it and drafted it, and sent it off. I expectantly got shot down; who gets an agent on their first manuscript, on their first quarry, when they are in high school? I wasn't that pretentious.
But by that time I had read this story maybe a million times, been working on it for three years, I was done with my shallow immature story I wrote as an 8/9th grader. So I stopped, and haven't revisited it, or even tried to write another novel since.
I've been brought back to this from a classmate of mine, who now two years later, brought to my attention that our freshman English teacher gave her my book, she went home and read the whole thing in one sitting. I don't know what I did to deserve to that, I look back at my book now and see a sophomoric and cliche story of a teen girl trying to save her friend from ruining his own life.
I've grown so much as a writer since, I've had so many new experiences, I'm more well read, and I'm pretty sure I can do a better job now. I've been inspired to write again. With a strong female lead, who doesn't need saving, and isn't worrying about boys. She will be a role-model and will the kind of character I would want my daughter to read about.
A smart lady told me that if you don't like today's movies, make a better one. If you can't find a good book, write it. If modern music isn't doing it for you anymore, compose it.
Thank you for these gifts of inspiration, I'm enjoying my lollipops ;)
And lastly a word from Kurt Vonnegut: 8 short story tips
"1. Use the time of a total stranger in such a way that he or she will not feel the time was wasted.
2. Give the reader at least one character he or she can root for.
3. Every character should want something, even if it is only a glass of water.
4. Every sentence must do one of two things — reveal character or advance the action.
5. Start as close to the end as possible.
6. Be a sadist. No matter how sweet or innocent your leading characters, make awful things happen to them, in order that the reader may see what they are made of.
7. Write to please just one person. If you open a window and make love to the world, so to speak, your story will get pneumonia.
8. Give your readers as much informations as possible, as soon as possible. To heck with suspense. Readers should have such complete understand of what is going on where and why, that they could finish the story themselves, should cockroaches eat the last few pages."
~Kat
Friday, March 22, 2013
Monday, March 18, 2013
Family time
One of the things I value the most is family, this is not unique nor unusual, but I'm discovering it's not universal. Some people have given up on family. Some families are broken, scattered from sea to sea. Others meet at the dinner table every night, but are divided by invisible fault lines. A silent, silverware-scraping dinner table is a sad one.
I've been graced with a wonderful family: two loving parents, a wacky older sister who gives me hell sometimes, but I can always find heaven in the countless smiles that she has painted onto my face. We always sit down together for dinner, even through the worst of times. I've sat through those silverware-scraping meals, but somehow someone always breaks the ice. My family talks, a lot, and we don't detour around the uncomfortable. We face it head on and work through it. But all these things can't be true all the time, we are far from a perfect family, but at least we try.
But what about those families that have lost hope? That don't talk to each other, feel like they can't? What about the families that have been accepted as broken, to have an "Out of Order" sign taped on its front door for the rest of their lives? Even if that's how its been for two years or two decades, could they still be fixed? Should they? Is family still a prominent enough figure in every human heart that it is worth the effort?
I can't imagine that anyone would be able to honestly answer no to the last one. No matter what your family's been through, I think everyone still has that longing to have "the perfect family" or at the very least a family that could stand to be in the same room as one another. Nobody wants to stay broken.
So why do we stop trying?
Do we assume the rest of our family wants to stay apart?
Do we think our family doesn't want us? Are we so scared to ask to be taken back, that we just stay quiet. Shrink into our separate rooms. Don't say how much I desperately miss the way things used to be, and I hope your doing well, because I don't even know you anymore.
Why should we be afraid to say this, when our brother or sister, mother or father, is probably going to bed after those silent dinners thinking the same thing.
Thinking about you.
~Kat
I've been graced with a wonderful family: two loving parents, a wacky older sister who gives me hell sometimes, but I can always find heaven in the countless smiles that she has painted onto my face. We always sit down together for dinner, even through the worst of times. I've sat through those silverware-scraping meals, but somehow someone always breaks the ice. My family talks, a lot, and we don't detour around the uncomfortable. We face it head on and work through it. But all these things can't be true all the time, we are far from a perfect family, but at least we try.
But what about those families that have lost hope? That don't talk to each other, feel like they can't? What about the families that have been accepted as broken, to have an "Out of Order" sign taped on its front door for the rest of their lives? Even if that's how its been for two years or two decades, could they still be fixed? Should they? Is family still a prominent enough figure in every human heart that it is worth the effort?
I can't imagine that anyone would be able to honestly answer no to the last one. No matter what your family's been through, I think everyone still has that longing to have "the perfect family" or at the very least a family that could stand to be in the same room as one another. Nobody wants to stay broken.
So why do we stop trying?
Do we assume the rest of our family wants to stay apart?
Do we think our family doesn't want us? Are we so scared to ask to be taken back, that we just stay quiet. Shrink into our separate rooms. Don't say how much I desperately miss the way things used to be, and I hope your doing well, because I don't even know you anymore.
Why should we be afraid to say this, when our brother or sister, mother or father, is probably going to bed after those silent dinners thinking the same thing.
Thinking about you.
~Kat
Friday, March 8, 2013
Dejected, Maddened, and Vexed
Put the first letters of that title together and what do you get? The DMV.
I show up at 3:15 with my mother to get my permit, which is two years too late. It's Friday afternoon, right when everyone is getting off of work and school. It had a striking resemblance to a can of sardines. Let's see if we squeeze in two more moaning motorists. We are ushered into the slough to stand single file between black ropes.
Line #1: Approximately 30 people long and at a stand still. Ten minutes later, we moved up two spots, "Shoot, my registration information is in the car." Bye, Mom, sure I'll wait here. And as soon as she walks out of the building the line starts moving like the well-lubricated machine the DMV should be a century after its introduction. I reach the front of the line in 5 minutes, and she's not back. I start waving people to go ahead of me, 3 people pass me by. One man jokes, "So your just the pretty greeter?" At that point I was really hoping my mom would be back soon, although I was flattered. She returns, we are called up, "Oh no you don't need that [the registration]," the man says and gives us a number.
Line#2: Who knows how many people were ahead of us. We find blue plastic chairs to sit in around the perimeter of the room. 20 more minutes and it's our turn. Sign a few forms, staple staple, "Good luck, wait over there for your picture."
Line#3: About 30 people long again, another 20 minutes, thumbprint, stand over there, 3, 2, 1, click. Printing receipt, staple staple. "Now you'll take your written exam over there." By this time I had forgotten about the test, and couldn't believe they made you do all of this stuff first, and you don't even know if you passed yet. Boy it would suck if I didn't and wasted all this time.
Line #4: Now I'm getting anxoius. The line is 20 people long, I'm waiting 5 minutes, "Do you need a test?" Me: "Um, yes." DMV lady: "Oh, you don't need to be waiting there, here." Hands me a test, sends me over to stand in a stall and squirm, marking little Xs next to the choice I think is the least idiotic. I go to the desk when I finish, "What do you want?"..."I'm done?" "Wait over there."
Line#5: I follow a winding line that goes all the way back to where the picture guy is, maybe 40-50 people wrong. This was the same line I thought I had to wait in to get my test, but it seemed to have multiplied. 20 minutes go by, I'm toward the front, and I realize they are scoring the tests by hand and there are only two ladies doing it. You have got to be kidding me. Even my malfunctioning public school has Scan-trons. Half an hour and I'm at the front, the scrawny boy next to me fist pumps, he passed his permit test with 3 wrong, you can get 8 wrong at most. My lady is still grading, I'm getting nervous.
She finishes.
"You got 10 wrong, you have to wait another week to retake it."
After a frustrating car ride home, my mom knocking me in the head, mumbling about waiting 2 hours and I didn't pass, you should have studied more, I have to pay another $32. As if the train of insults in my head weren't enough.
I am now listening to Blink-182 Pandora Radio. Loud. Electric guitars drowning out the "shoulda-coulda-wouldas."
Dejected, Maddened, and Vexed, so glad the DMV and I started off on the right foot.
~Kat.
I show up at 3:15 with my mother to get my permit, which is two years too late. It's Friday afternoon, right when everyone is getting off of work and school. It had a striking resemblance to a can of sardines. Let's see if we squeeze in two more moaning motorists. We are ushered into the slough to stand single file between black ropes.
Line #1: Approximately 30 people long and at a stand still. Ten minutes later, we moved up two spots, "Shoot, my registration information is in the car." Bye, Mom, sure I'll wait here. And as soon as she walks out of the building the line starts moving like the well-lubricated machine the DMV should be a century after its introduction. I reach the front of the line in 5 minutes, and she's not back. I start waving people to go ahead of me, 3 people pass me by. One man jokes, "So your just the pretty greeter?" At that point I was really hoping my mom would be back soon, although I was flattered. She returns, we are called up, "Oh no you don't need that [the registration]," the man says and gives us a number.
Line#2: Who knows how many people were ahead of us. We find blue plastic chairs to sit in around the perimeter of the room. 20 more minutes and it's our turn. Sign a few forms, staple staple, "Good luck, wait over there for your picture."
Line#3: About 30 people long again, another 20 minutes, thumbprint, stand over there, 3, 2, 1, click. Printing receipt, staple staple. "Now you'll take your written exam over there." By this time I had forgotten about the test, and couldn't believe they made you do all of this stuff first, and you don't even know if you passed yet. Boy it would suck if I didn't and wasted all this time.
Line #4: Now I'm getting anxoius. The line is 20 people long, I'm waiting 5 minutes, "Do you need a test?" Me: "Um, yes." DMV lady: "Oh, you don't need to be waiting there, here." Hands me a test, sends me over to stand in a stall and squirm, marking little Xs next to the choice I think is the least idiotic. I go to the desk when I finish, "What do you want?"..."I'm done?" "Wait over there."
Line#5: I follow a winding line that goes all the way back to where the picture guy is, maybe 40-50 people wrong. This was the same line I thought I had to wait in to get my test, but it seemed to have multiplied. 20 minutes go by, I'm toward the front, and I realize they are scoring the tests by hand and there are only two ladies doing it. You have got to be kidding me. Even my malfunctioning public school has Scan-trons. Half an hour and I'm at the front, the scrawny boy next to me fist pumps, he passed his permit test with 3 wrong, you can get 8 wrong at most. My lady is still grading, I'm getting nervous.
She finishes.
"You got 10 wrong, you have to wait another week to retake it."
After a frustrating car ride home, my mom knocking me in the head, mumbling about waiting 2 hours and I didn't pass, you should have studied more, I have to pay another $32. As if the train of insults in my head weren't enough.
I am now listening to Blink-182 Pandora Radio. Loud. Electric guitars drowning out the "shoulda-coulda-wouldas."
Dejected, Maddened, and Vexed, so glad the DMV and I started off on the right foot.
~Kat.
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