The people who just don't get it.

Can I quote myself for a second? I don't mean to sound pretentious, but it'll inform this post.

I know what I want to do with my life. I think people think I'm joking when I say, "I'm gonna work dead-end jobs and write novels my whole life," but I'm being perfectly serious. I could not care less what my day job is; I just want to write.

So after graduating, people expect me to do something with my degree. I am. I'm trying to finish a story and get it published. That's the primary directive here. But they don't ask anything about that. They specifically ask, "What kind of jobs are you applying for?"

Honest answer: The kind that are hiring and that don't take up extra hours so I can write.

And I swear, almost every time, they look at me like, Ohhh. You still haven't grown out of that. Uh, nope. Not about to "grow out of" the one thing I'm sure I'm supposed to do.

A day job is just there to be convenient and get me out of this house. And that's all there is to say on the matter.

Why I Read/Write YA: A Response

Erin at Quitting My Day Job asked in today's post what our high school experience was like and why we read/write YA books.

I went to high school in a relatively small town. Not the smallest by far, but small enough where people tend to remember your name. It was small enough that most everybody understood why it was hilarious that I screamed for five minutes at one of my best friends for a Senior Send-Off skit (I was the quiet one in school; she was the outspoken one).

Summarizing. Freshman year was alright, sophomore year was just OK, junior year was THE BEST EVER ZOMIGOSH!!!1one528@+42*!!~#%!!!one (you will never see me do this again, I promise), and senior year wasn't terrible.



My best friends were, and are, awesome. By the end of senior year, we had like a four-girl-band type of thing going. We even have this AMAZING graduating picture that Kirstin and I call Smartest to Dumbest. Kassy and Steph call it Least Common Sense to Most Common Sense. We're all very mean. :D I don't actually have a copy, so let me doodle it for you. Wow, this post is media-heavy.

Kirstin: Valedictorian, National Honors Society sash thing, Honors cords

Me: National Honors Society sash thing, Honors cords

Steph: Honors cords

Kassy: GRADUATED!

So yeah. But we actually spent most of high school writing this amazing series of short stories called EPSE. It's like if high school were an epic and had 13 main characters. Yeah, we didn't know what the heck we were doing.

I read YA because, well, it's fun to read. When I'm reading more age-appropriate books, I don't feel compelled to binge read them. I've never felt that sort of immediacy with an "adult" book, even Lord of the Rings, which I adore. And with YA, you can talk about a LOT of things. You know what I mean.

Why I write YA.

1) Force of habit. I've always written it. It's like my default setting. :D

2) I'd rather write about high school drama than college drama. (Sometimes I just sit in class and think, "I hate this place, I hate this place, I hate this place, I hate this place...") At least high school drama has hilarity potential.

3) Teenagers with their mood swings, dramatics, shenanigans, and hormones make for doggone entertaining characters. Real Life Example: At the beginning of senior year, my friend Kirstin had a crush on this boy she called the "Sun God". Or something like that. Well, she wasn't wearing makeup one day, and she thought she saw him pass by our cafeteria table. What did she do? She dove under the table and took Kassy with her. It was hilarious.

4) This.

"So, when you and Radar said you were going out to 'get slushies', was that your secret code for getting together and making out?"

Hydro/Radar is my OTP. (Yep. I ship characters I helped create.)

"So what's your major?" "Creative Writing." "Ohhhh."

You know those people.

--

"So you’re a student, huh?"
"Yeah, over at Western."
"What’s your major?"
"Creative Writing."
"Ohhhh. How interesting." Read: "Ohhh. You have no chance of ever making it in this world."
"Yeah, it's a lot of fun." Read: "You and I have very different definitions of 'making it'."
"So what kind of things do you write?" Read: "If you were a writer."
"Oh, sci-fi, fantasy, mostly speculative fiction. That sorta thing." Read: "I am a writer, and you are some random stranger who has no idea what I'm capable of."
"Are you ever going to write a book someday?" Read: "You probably haven't even attempted to write an actual book."
"Actually, I've written three." Read: "I've written three. Wench."

--

Paraphrased from an actual conversation.


Moral of the story? Don't let the cynics get you down. Never stop writing. Never stop doing what you love.

I promise...

...to write well.

...to write badly first.

...to be honest.

...to not be preachy.

...to not take myself seriously.

...to not write for trends. Trends change.

...to not get so caught up in words that I lose sight of the story.

...to not care what people think.

...to remember why I'm doing this.

...to make people laugh.

...to make people feel good.

...to make a difference.

...to never stop.

OK, now it's your turn.

(PS: WMU's literary magazines, The Laureate and Third Coast are accepting submissions!)

If you had 72 hours...

This morning's link is brought to you by one of my school's advisors. It's a writing contest that's free to enter (I know, how often do you see that?) that asks the question: what would you do if you had 72 hours to live?

You'll be able to get more details at the site. It's an interesting question, although we've all heard variations of it probably. I would really like to get to the top floor of Sprau Tower without, y'know, having a panic attack. And also have a wheelchair race. But mostly spend time with my friends and family. So what would you do?

It’s Banned Books Week.

It's a good reminder, I think. Even though America is a good country to live in – frankly, I'm just thankful that I'm safe, healthy, and in school – there are still serious flaws. I won't get too political here, but that first amendment is there for a reason.

With that being said… how is it possible that this week exists? How is it possible that this week someone who claims to be in Christ called Speak "softcore pornography" because it has two rape scenes? We should be worried. We should be angry. This country was founded so that people could say what they wanted without being prosecuted for it. And THIS IS STILL GOING ON? Does not compute.

What really makes me mad is that books with good, wonderful messages get roasted by the "moral guardians", and then all the other media gets away with this horrible, horrible stuff that's has no blanking point. I'm talking about the senseless violence and sensuality we see on TV and in movies, and hear about in music. At least in books there's a point. There's a deeper meaning. If there wasn't, the scene wouldn't exist.

I can hear you now. "Uh, Qzie? They don't exactly get away with the stuff. The moral guardians do get upset with them." Then where's Banned Music Week? Where's Banned TV Week? Banned Movie Week?

Yeah. Exactly. OK, I need to calm down before I make someone angry at me.

Some writers have made it their goal to be on this list someday. If they make it, I can only hope it's for showing the public the truth.

"I wanna finish last, last in the world's eyes..."

I feel a little weird titling two blog posts in a row with song lyrics, but it fits the subject.

Today Nathan Bransford talked about how our dreams as writers- or really, whatever we aspire to achieve- can become more like expectations of ourselves. It's like we define our success based on how many followers we have on Twitter, or how many hits we get on our material, and if we get X number of followers and Y number of people pay attention to our online presence, then tada! We're successful. But it shouldn't be that way.

We need to remember why we pursue our passions and our dreams. Why we do the things we do. It's gonna be different for all of us, and there's nothing wrong with that. But whatever that reason is- and I cannot stress this enough- remember it. For goodness' sake, remember it. And don't get caught up in the world's definition of success. Don't let that be your happiness.

OK. I should put the song lyrics in context now. It's called "Finish Last" by Stellar Kart.

I wanna finish last
Last in the world's eyes
No matter what I do
I will be first in Your eyes

It would be fantastic if all our dreams became real. I don't think any of us writerly types would mind someday having our own personal display at Barnes and Noble. ;) But it's fine if that doesn't happen, because at least we have something to be passionate about. To be excited about.

Do you think that anybody can do what you do? As if. And don't let other people's success get you down! They've gone through the same thing, I guarantee you.

Now get to work, wench.

(I'm a bit tired, so 'scuse me if this didn't make total sense...)

Senior year. Wow.

I've been thinking a lot lately about everything, feels like. Like how I ended up being a Creative Writing major at WMU, still living at home during senior year when I thought I would've been outta here by now, still going to the same church as I did when I was 12, and not a single desire to leave the city (except during the winter, but you know all about that). And not just that. A bunch more.

So I've been writing a lot of hilariously amateurish nonfiction lately. Don't expect me to put it online, because 1) It's pretty bad, and 2) The one I finished is about something I don't like out in the open. It's good practice anyway because I'm taking a Creative Nonfiction class this semester. The way I see it is, if you can't be honest with yourself, how can you expect to be honest with fictional characters? Plus I have so many stories about the wonderful people I'm blessed to have in my life. :)

I mean that, by the way.

But anyways. This whole "thinking period" was brought on by Joe asking us to think about why we got involved in the youth group. And you know me. Start thinking about one thing, end up thinking about a million others. I thought about why I stayed at Cherry Creek and how the people there mean and have always meant a lot more to me than the people I knew in high school (save my best friends, of course). I know why I went to KVCC and WMU, not only because of cost, but to stay close to my friends and family. That was the right decision to make.

I'm really, really glad my best friends from high school are my best friends now. That was a major concern at the end of high school. I still remember Kirstin, Steph, and I at Senior Send-Off, just in tears, and Kassy pretty much refusing to cry. Then again, I also remember dissolving into a puddle because I wouldn't have a locker to put stickers in anymore. It was an emotional day. I don't think we'll worry so much once we've all graduated, just because we've stuck together this long. We're best friends and nothing's gonna change that.

Then I think about college and career. How we developed all those inside jokes and the videos and staying up into the wee hours and... how close we really are. People are signing up for growth groups again, and there was never a doubt in my mind that the same people would sign up for Friday nights.

I know what I want to do with my life. I think people think I'm joking when I say, "I'm gonna work dead-end jobs and write novels my whole life," but I'm being perfectly serious. I could not care less what my day job is; I just want to write. Specifically, I want to write speculative fiction. Fantasy, sci-fi, and everything in between. Maybe sometime I'll rewrite Fine Line (right now, I look at it and all I see are flaws). And I'd love to get every single elementary classroom in Southwest Michigan involved in the Young Writer's Program. It was such a great program to get into my aunt's classroom last year (and the kids had a great time, sounds like!) that I don't think it'd be unreasonable to get it into every single one.

Hold on. Pause for a sec. I think it's good that schools are focusing more on math and science and "fact-based" courses, but we need to give these kids the opportunities to do what they do best. Think outside the box. Let them write, let them draw, let their imaginations go wild! Chances are they will love it. We all know how creative kids are. So let them.

Sorry. Had to go on that mini-rant.

And I know why I write. When I was in 12th grade, I had a good reason. "To make people feel." That's still part of it. But first and foremost, I want to make a difference in someone's life. Not too particular how. And you know, after all those years of being quiet, it turns out that I've got a lot to say. Why do you think I wrote Fine Line in the first place? (In case you missed it, I've always defined its purpose as being about forgiveness.)

I also found my old "poemtry" notebook from my senior year of high school while cleaning. Isn't that always nice, to find something really old that you half-forgot existed? But anyways, this poem (dated 8/6/06) really stood out to me.

Alive!


"O Death, where is thy victory?
Death, where is thy sting?"
Thou hast no power in the world
Lest over anything

Fear, fear- she drives so many men
Into lives of recluse
And they will repeatedly deny
It's themselves that they abuse

Ignorance, the fall of many
Ironically said to be bliss
But too many people take for granted
A world such as this

So let us rejoice! Rejoice, you people!
He has triumphed over death and fear!
Your ignorance can be replaced by wisdom
From a God Who is always here!

Sing, ye glorious angels
And all the earth revive
We no longer have to fear powerless Death
Praise God, I am alive!

--

It's not a great poem, I know. I was only 17. :) But if I could just capture the heart of that poem and make it bubble under the surface of everything I write... then yeah. I think that'd be a good start.

This is a ridiculously long post. If you read it all, you deserve a treat. Immediately.

Chat later.