Friday Fun Facts

These facts aren't that fun.  For some reason, I feel like Fridays need alliteration.  I am too tired. There are three facts.

One.  While I was biking with my friend on the trail today, some random kid spoke gibberish at me, and it took me a minute to figure out he was making fun of the fact that I was Chinese.  Now how am I supposed to respond to that?  I mean, the kid is like younger than ten.  So he clearly doesn't know any better.  You can't berate a child for being ignorant.  It was just kind of weird, because I am usually unaware of my race unless someone points it out.  And yes, my friends are highly inappropriate and shout random Asian words at me in greeting (Toshiba! Mitsubishi!), but it's a joke.  That's different.  If an adult did that to me, I would unleash a string of colorful ENGLISH words at them to prove I am fluent (and most likely better at grammar than they are). But it's a kid.  Hmmm.  I guess the general message is this: if you are a parent, don't let your kids be assholes.

Two.  I love Phineas and Ferb so much.  I'm nineteen.  Disney owns my soul.  I accept it.

Three.  Another reason why fanfiction is awesome is you can write about necrophilia, incest, and threesomes and have it be perfectly reasonable.  Most people won't bat an eyelid.  I have not done this.  I'm just saying.  I read a really good threesome fic the other day, and it occurred to me how weird it would be if I actually read a published book about something like necrophilia. When it's a fanfic one-shot, life rolls along without disturbance or controversy.

Pre-Writing

This week, Lin Wang asks: how much pre-writing do you do before starting a writing project?

An excellent question, and one that I will, unfortunately, have a really awful answer to.  I don't do much pre-writing at all.  Before I start a story, there are only two things I need to know: all the main characters, the beginning, and the end.  Yup.  That's it.  I don't even need a plot. Don't take that the wrong way.  You do need a plot for any kind of story, but I don't usually know it before I start.  It takes me a while to figure it out while writing, and then, as you might imagine, I have to edit out all the beginning drivel that is clearly plotless.  I know no other way to do this.

Sometimes, (as for Steam) I do a character chart, especially if there's a large cast of characters. There isn't for ATRS.  And every character's motivations are pretty straightforward.  No secrets here.

You see, the problem with me is if I don't grab an idea and immediately run with it on paper, I lose it.  Or I lose the motivation to get going.  So pre-writing bogs me down instead of helping the process.  I suppose everyone's different in that way.  The only real pre-anything I do is pre-thinking.  I like to think about the story for a long time (ATRS took two years), but I won't write anything down.

Occasionally, research is necessary.  Research is a good way to get the ideas swimming along in my head, but most of my stories don't require a ton of research.  And I won't write about something that requires research in an area I don't like.  Like sci-fi?  That will never happen. Ever.

For other people who have better answers:

Monday: Flames and Shadows

Tuesday: Girl With A Notebook

Wednesday: it's me...

Thursday: Somewhere Nowhere In My Kingdom

Friday: Sometimes Helpful Nonsense

So, you can see on my ATRS block, I have added a total progress bar, because I obviously need more reasons to obsess over word count.  But it looked cool, and decisions in my life are mainly made based on whether they will seem cool or not.

Rick Riordan posted pictures of his family vacationing in Greece, and I almost melted into a gigantic green puddle of jealous goo.  If I believed in reincarnation (which I don't, being a Jesus and Bible-lover), I would swear that I once lived in Ancient Greece.  I have a love affair with it, as you might glean from my blog.  I'm thinking of doing the six-week study abroad program in Athens next summer (yeah, I think I peed a little just typing that) if I can fit it in with my LSAT class.

New book idea: something Peter Pan related.  I'll let you know about that.

Spotlighting

Today, I am being productive.  Really.  I got a caramel macchiato at Starbucks, and I am hitting 2,000 words if it kills me in the process.  You know when some days, your mojo just isn't working and everything you write doesn't have the spark you want it to?  Today is not that day. Today, everything is working fine.  

Today, I am going to relocate to Borders where I do not have free wifi and can't go on ridiculous Internet journeys.  Although--Wikipedia is proving to be a wonderful research tool.  For instance, just a few minutes ago, I learned what the Areopagus was in Athens.  And promptly incorporated it in my novel.  Conveniently, we are in Athens at the moment.  And Athens is my favorite Greek city to be in (hypothetically, of course).

More importantly, I discovered Weronika's blog.  And I think everyone needs to go check it out. Because inferior as it makes me feel to read about a super amazing, super successful TEEN writer, it is also heartening to read beautiful writing.  She has beautiful writing.  I read her query, because I am a CREEPER (as everyone who reads my blog already knows).  And if I saw it on the flap of a book in Borders, I would be all over that book faster than I would be over a bag of gummy bears.  That is pretty fast.  

And, if you are interested in this sort of thing (as I am), there is an article in the ever-articulate New Yorker about Judas Iscariot (biblical).  I love this kind of stuff.  I mean, when Easter comes along and History Channel starts doing its reruns on the anti-Christ and the excluded books of the Bible, I am glued to the TV screen.  So I have an obsession with the Bible.  I'm over it.  Did I tell you in junior high I started a novel about the Virgin Mary?  Yeah, I never finished it.  I never finished a lot of stuff in junior high.  

Oh, Those Lazy Summer Days

Apologies for my sparse presence.  Today is Monday!  Time to get to work again.  Yesterday, I went biking with my friend instead of writing.  Just because I am naturally skinny, does not mean I am naturally fit.  So that was nice.  And our town really is quite pretty if you stop and pay attention.

Here comes the awkward part of the summer where my class is over, the musical is over, half of my family is missing, and school doesn't start for another three weeks.  Yes, my mom and my brother are going to China for a couple of weeks, so it's just me and my dad.  I'm going back to the land of my birth for winter break.

My birthday is on Thursday.  This may sound weird, but I don't really like birthdays.  I don't like planning social events (luckily, I have friends who are awesome planners), so as you might imagine, birthdays are more of a hassle than anything.  We may be going on a bar crawl in Champaign.  That involves no planning.  Yay!  But I should also celebrate part of it with my dad at least, as I think he gets lonely when nobody is home.

I'm at 53k.  Progress, anyone?  Tell me about it.  Does your writing go faster or slower in the summer?  I'm really trying to get this draft done before the semester starts.  The first few weeks will be pretty packed with reading, work, and just being with people, so I don't want to worry about filling a daily quota.  Editing should be perfect for that time.  And then, betas!  I haven't shown this draft to anyone (except people in my creative writing class).  I am ready for more opinions, more critiques.

Checking In

So here are some pictures:

We played beachball.  It was kind of cold outside, because our weather is redonkulus.  Illinois is stupid weather central.  You never know what you're going to get.  At the end of July.  I know, I mainly picked it because you can see my HAIR.  Which I worked on.  I have a lot of hair, and it takes an unreasonable amount of time to curl.

I look really ticked off.  But I'm not.  I'm happy, because of our awesomely themed table.  

And look at our cool Hawaiian name tags.  Yeah, that's right.  We got Hawaiian names.  Mine is "KiKi."  Um, my real name is not that much of a secret, so I'm going to go ahead and tell you it's XiXi (Oh yeah, it's going to be so unreadable on the spine of a book one day).  You pronounce it "CeCe."  I just go with a pseudonym, because...it seemed like a good idea at the time.

I look very young.  I know.  Darn my Asian heritage.  One day, they tell me, I will appreciate looking young.  One day.  One day, when I don't get carded for things.  Yup.  There you have it. My life is so cool and interesting that I absolutely had to blog about it.

No, not really.  I apologize for that.  But!  In the world of writing, I have finally reached the 50,000 mark.  If it were NaNoWriMo, I would be a winner.  Except--it took me a two months to get to there, and it's July.  

Details, details.

I am out of ideas.  Is there something massively important I should be blogging about right now?  Concerning writing, of course.  What would YOU like to know?  Because I'm such an expert and everything.  I'm like a Dear Abby column.  

What Do You Do When You're Stuck?

(Topic by Kim)

Some may call this phenomenon "writer's block."  I do not.  Because my number one rule of what NOT to do when you are stuck is say, "Gee, I have writer's block."  Don't do that.  You know that saying, acceptance is the first step to recovery?  I'm telling you to cling to denial like the sun don't shine.  Because admitting you have writer's block means mentally accepting you have some valid external reason for being unable to write.

There is never any valid external reason for being unable to write except a) the second coming of Christ or b) you have a real life emergency.

You're going to think I'm a hypocrite now since I've complained of the midway slump, and I've definitely mentioned having a hard time writing before.  But there are two reasons for any time I'm struggling to write and neither of them are because some magic wall landed in my brain space. One, a simple case of bad planning, and I haven't figured out what's happening next--ergo, I cannot write.  Or two, I'm being lazy.  

It's usually two.  I'm usually staring at the screen at an utter loss of words, but this is not writer's block.  This is me being unwilling to unhook the internet or get to a place where I can't be distracted.  

So what do I do when I run into situation one or two?

Sometimes, the best solution is to take a break.  Sometimes, you really are burnt out after many days of straight writing, and if you are forced to go on, you might accidentally stab your MC with a magically available fork and prematurely end the story.  But the key to this tactic is to do it in moderation, and to only take a break for one day.  Got it?  One day.  If you take a break for more than one day, it's going to be unimaginably hard for you to get back into the swing of things.  For this one day vacation, you should not think about your novel, and you should not feel guilty you're not working on it.  Then, you wake up the next day happy and refreshed, put your butt back in the chair, and voila!  Problem solved.

Otherwise, you can try writing something else.  For me, fanfiction is an excellent outlet in this case.  I can write a nice little one-shot, and by the time I'm done, I'm all ready to return to my novel.  This way, you are still writing and honing your skills.  Meanwhile, your novel is percolating merrily in the back of your head (even though you are not aware of it).  The thing that was bothering you before might not be bothering you anymore when you return.

Sadly, the third way and the best way is something most people don't want to hear.  It's just to find a nice corner without free wifi, drug yourself up with lots of coffee, and keep going at it.  It's going to feel like hitting yourself repeatedly in the forehead with a brick, but eventually, eventually, you'll weather it out and things will be easier again.  

Mostly, I go with the third option.  It's the most productive.  And even if you're writing crap, at least you're writing.  Get it all down on paper first, worry about the technicalities later.  You can't revise something that isn't there.

Monday: Somewhere Nowhere In My Kingdom

Tuesday: Me

Wednesday: Lin Wang - Teen Writer

Thursday: Sometimes Helpful Nonsense

Friday: Girl With A Notebook

Now.  I have done my hair up in Selena Gomez curls, and I mean to go to as many public places as I can possibly hit before the party tonight.  No point in dressing up if I can't show the world.  I'm even going to write in a public place.  So I look like a cool, stylish author.  Hmm...contemplating the correct choice in heels for this day.  Expect pictures from the luau.

Editing Your Own Work

It's that time of the week again.  Rebecca asked of us: how do you edit your own work?

Well, let's see.  After the first draft of my novel, I had planned on using Sol Stein's triage method (which is pretty much working backwards from the worst scene in the book to the next worst and so on).  But instead, I decided to rewrite the whole thing because the first draft was unsalvageable with the new plot changes.  I did do part of the editing process before I scrapped it and rewrote.

Hypothetically, this is what happens from beginning to end.  First, I set the draft in a drawer (somewhere I can't see it) and leave it there for a minimum of a week.  Most professionals (editors, authors) will tell you to forget about it.  They're totally lying.  I have no idea how you can possibly forget about your novel for more than an hour at a time.  At least, I can't.  I spend so much mental time with my characters it's like asking me not to breathe for a week.  So instead, every time you begin to think about your novel you should quickly fill that space in your head with a) thoughts of your next novel or b) food.  Go buy some food and shove your face, preferably with something that is thoroughly unhealthy.  Gaining weight is a side-effect of editing, did I mention this?  Or find the friends you lost while holing yourself up the last week of writing the first draft and go buy lots of pretty clothes.  Or if you're a boy, whatever equivalent boys like to spend money on. 

After this period of forced separation, I'll read the manuscript once through making only sparse notes about my overall feelings.  Then, the second time I read it, I mark it up with different color pens.  Partly because different colored pens look cooler and all professional, but I do blue for plot holes and story problems, and red for line edits.  

To actually fix up the thing, I plan on rewriting/editing scenes from worst to best.  Going chronologically is boring for me.  Oh, I think I forgot to say earlier that I print out the manuscript. Single-spaced with 1 and 1/4 inch margins.  I know a lot of people say double-spaced for editing is better, but I can't bear to waste that much paper.  But I do print it out, because editing on a computer screen is impossible.  I'm already visually challenged as it is; I don't need to go blind before I can legally drink.  

Then, of course, send it out to many betas and friends.  Because some of them probably won't actually read it (the non-writerly type), so shove it at as many people as possible.  I also like to print up a comment sheet with specific questions as to what did or did not work and which characters suck.  That sort of thing.  Then more rewriting and more editing and more rewriting until your fingers fall off and your eyes sink in and you absolutely utterly despise MS Word and everything associated with your novel.

I suppose that's how it works.  I'll let you know when I get there.

Monday: Sometimes Helpful Nonsense

Tuesday: Somewhere Nowhere In My Kingdom

Wednesday: Girl With A Notebook

Thursday: Lin Wang - Teen Writer

Friday: here

And next week:

Monday: Somewhere Nowhere In My Kingdom

Tuesday: Me

Wednesday: Lin Wang - Teen Writer

Thursday: Sometimes Helpful Nonsense

Friday: Girl With A Notebook

The Triumphant Return

You know what is great about fanfiction?  After you write it for two days, you are plenty ready to get back to your novel.  And things just flow like water.  They should.  I haven't worked on ATRS except on Monday, and I miss it!  

Is there something you need to have next to you to write well?  Mine is coffee.  This is so stereotypical (and stereotypically wrong, because I don't know any writers except me who prefer to write in a coffee shop).  But I think my brain works better when it is on caffeine.  And not a lot of caffeine, because I don't have a high tolerance for it.  If I drink too much too fast, I get headaches. But a small cup (iced, please) does wonders for feeding my imagination.  It also probably does wonders for staining your teeth and making your breath smell jank, but whatever.

It is official.  I have a mother fetish.  I have another idea for a fanfic (because I am so DONE writing angst) that involves teenage pregnancy.  I am so wholesome.  I should give in to the fact that I will never write anything without a character who is a mother.  This one will not be written for a while, because I want to get ahead in the novel.  I'm getting into a juicy part with lots of witty repartee.  Also, I find fanfictions come easier if I get an idea and let it percolate unconsciously in my head for a week or so.  And of course, I abandon a lot of ideas, so this one might be abandoned anyway.  

Sound of Music opens today.  Wish me luck.  I'm the only flutist this time, so if I mess up, I can't blame it on anyone but me.  I Have Confidence!  And Do Re Mi and all that.

PS Did you know (according to Statcounter) that you can find my blog by searching "Elysium blog robot?"  Because apparently someone did just that.  I have yet to get something as interesting as "child leashes slut monkey" like Lisa and Laura.  Although maybe you can now because I JUST TYPED IT.

Baby Mine

Why am I incapable of writing short pieces?  Why?  This fanfiction piece has turned into a 5,000 word epic, and there's still a bit more to go.  But I've taken so long writing it.  I'm finishing it today, I swear.  There you go, though.  I am actually writing when I'm not working on my novel. Here is an excerpt:

“There’s no such thing as freakin’ blue food.  Why the hell are you arguing with me over this?” Gabe yelled, spit flying from his mouth.  His beer gut moved up and down as he breathed.  Sally found herself staring at it to keep from yelling back.

Normally, she would just shut the hell up so he wouldn’t hit her—which had maybe happened once or twice, but she became really excellent with concealer because she knew if Percy found out, he would pick a fight with Gabe.  She’d rather get hit a hundred times than let Gabe touch him. But today, she was pretty fed up.  She got up at five in the morning to clean the apartment, since Gabe was having buddies over.  She couldn’t figure out for the life of her why he needed a clean apartment, as he was probably the least hygienic person she’d ever met.  But she did it.  And she made the damn snacks and went out and bought the damn beer—using her own money—and if he was going to say something else, she swore she was going to hit him for real this time.

“This is the dumbest fight ever,” he growled.  “I swear, Sal, you’re so stupid sometimes.”  She cringed at the word “Sal.”  Her name was Sal-ly, thank you very much.  She bit her lip until she could taste blood.

Gabe threw one last sneer at her, plopped down on the couch, and promptly started flipping through channels like a maniac.

“Percy?” she called.  Her voice had a quiver, and she tried to keep it steady.  

His messy black head popped through the doorway.  “Yeah, Mom?”

“We’re going shopping.”

“Uh, do I have to?”

“Yes, please.”

He groaned.  She heard him run to his room and rustle through the closet.  He came out with a coat haphazardly buttoned, the hood thrown over his head.  She resisted the urge to laugh.

“Be back before dinner, you hear?” Gabe said as she slammed the door behind her and locked it venomously. 

Percy stared at her.  “Are you okay?”

“Of course, honey.”  They piled into the car and drove off into the snowstorm.  Sally tried not to turn corners too recklessly.

“This isn’t the greatest weather to be going out.”

“I really, really need an ingredient,” she answered.  Sally took her son’s hand and marched purposefully into the supermarket.  The automatic doors zipped open, and a burst of warm air thawed her nose and cheeks.  She scanned the aisles.  That one.  The two of them walked past baking supplies, white paper packages of flour and sugar.

“Here we are.”  Sally grabbed everything that was left—nine tiny pointed bottles of blue food coloring—and dropped it into the basket.

“Do we need that much food coloring?”

“We’re going to make blue food from now until the end of the month.”  She shrugged.  She hadn’t meant to do that, but now that she said it, it sounded like a good idea.

“Really?  Awesome!”

The woman at the checkout counter gave her a weird look.  “It’s for a wedding,” she said sweetly, randomly coming up with lies as she went.  “Those cakes—they need a lot of food coloring to be the right shade of blue.”  Behind her, Percy giggled like mad.  The checkout woman whose name tag said “Jordy” nodded slowly, dumped everything into a plastic bag and shoved it at Sally. “Have a nice day?”

“You too!”

Percy chuckled all the way to the car.  “You’re a good liar, Mom.”

“You know lying is unacceptable, right?”

“You just did it.”

She buckled him into the backseat.  Then, she dug her fingers into the neck of his coat and wriggled them impishly.  

“Hey, stop it!  I’m—I’m—ticklish!”

“Do you promise you won’t ever lie to me?”

“I promise!”  She stopped and ruffled his hair.  “That’s what I thought.”  She kissed the top of his head.

“Ew, Mom.  Come on,” he whined.

“I love you, sweetie.”

“I love you too, but do you have to show your love that way?”

She laughed.

-

“Well, Ms. Jackson?  Your son has a severe case of attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder, or ADHD for short.  It means—”

“I know what it means.”

“Yes,” said the doctor uncomfortably.  “Not to worry, though.  There are plenty of medications available to treat the disorder.  They’re all safe and certified.  Your son is not alone.  There are many other young boys diagnosed with ADHD, and we can set up therapy sessions as well, if you so choose.”

“Percy, go outside to the lobby and wait for me, please.”  She waited until he left, and she shut the door.  “Doctor, thank you for the diagnosis and your concern, but I will not be medicating my son.”

“Ms. Jackson, this is standard procedure.  There isn’t anything dangerous about the medication, I assure you.”

“I’m aware of that.”  She stood as straight as she possibly could and lifted her chin for good measure.

The doctor sighed and ran a hand through his brown hair.  He was young for a doctor, she noticed.  “Is there anything in particular you are skeptical about?  We can talk about this.  I’m here for you in this difficult time.”

She snorted.  “Difficult time?”  She knew her son would have ADHD.  “Excuse me, but he is perfectly fine.  It’s not like he’s in a coma!”

“Of course not.  But without medication, he will have a hard time in school, paying attention the teacher.  I know that”—he shuffled through his papers and examined a few of them—“he has dyslexia.  Am I correct?”

Sally nodded sharply.

“Well, then with the combination of the two, he is probably struggling a lot.  While dyslexia can’t be treated, ADHD can.  You can make his life a lot easier.”

Deep down, she was terrified.  Monsters would be coming after Percy, and he needed the ADHD to keep him alive.  She felt so helpless and wretched for sentencing him to a childhood of perpetual frustration in school.  She wouldn’t cry in front of this doctor who had no idea of her situation and kept regarding her with clinical coolness instead of the warmth and understanding of a human being.

“Thank you for your time, doctor,” she said finally.  “We’ll be going now.”

“You’re not helping your son.”

She paused with her hand on the doorknob.  “You don’t know anything about my son.”

-

Sometimes, she felt so alone.  She wondered if there was some kind of support group for the parents of demigods.  She would’ve dearly loved to meet someone else like her.  Instead, she was sure that she was the only person in the world who knew about Mount Olympus and its inhabitants.  

Sometimes, she thought it was all in her imagination.

Sometimes, she thought she was insane.  Maybe she was the one who needed medication.

-

For the record, everything about ADHD and dyslexia came via Wikipedia.  I know nothing about these two disorders.  I actually don't know what aisle they sell food coloring in.

ALSO, I am in no way recommending that if your child has ADHD to refuse medication.  I only follow the story.

CAPS SHOW MY LOVE

...for Percy Jackson!  I am stupid and do not know how to embed videos.  *edit* I figured it out.

Anyway, greenconverses showed me, and I almost peed myself when I logged into Facebook.

For those of you who care.  I can't wait.  You can see, I am working on my battle fic on the side, and it has a title now.  Wooo hooo.  I am the biggest fangirl ever.  The fact that the trailer for PJO was coming out today, almost eclipsed the fact that HP is opening at midnight.

Am in love.  Must reread series.  NAOW.

Word Count

I live and die by the word count tool on MS Word.*

I admit it: I have an addiction.  Every day, I measure success by what number comes up when I click the tool.  My daily quota is 1,000 words.  Not "almost 1,000 words."  If I don't hit four digits, we have a problem.  Sometimes I go over.  More often than not, I am under.  

My chapters are all give or take 2,000 words.  Mainly, because I have an epicly short attention span and the first draft had chapters of 3,000 words that I was killing myself to get to.  I somehow feel cheered when I finish a chapter.  So I have more moments of cheered-ness when I have shorter chapters.

I used to check the word count every few paragraphs.  I limit myself to checking once I complete a page (single-spaced; yes, I write single-spaced because it feels less like a final paper for college). It's not like it matters, really, because I have become so psychotically good at predicting how many words are on a page that I am virtually a human word count tool.

In the beginning (first draft), I was afraid I would not hit my ideal figure of 70,000 words.  So I made the mistake that many people make, which is to write with an eye for the word count.  You know what this results in?  A lot of foam.  By foam, I mean useless junk does not carry the plot forward or give any emotional development to the characters.  So I don't do that anymore.  But for the second draft, I condensed large foamy parts of first draft.  What I accomplished in ten chapters in the first draft, I accomplished in four in the second.  Then, I was afraid I would not be able to reach the ideal word count.  Now, I am at 40,000 words, and I don't think I have the slightest problem getting to 70,000.  I'm a little worried I might go over 80,000.  Because I am addicted to word count, I try once every few days to calculate how many words the remaining part of the book will be (this never works, don't even try it).

I have to remind myself not to be too preoccupied with the final word count, because if I'm afraid the book will be too long, I'll start rushing the climax and denouement (I do this sometimes, and it's awfully anti-climactic).

Does anyone else have problems with word count?  

*I would like to add that I use MS Word 2000 or 2003.  None of this new stuff that is now installed at every public school and facility everywhere.  Here is my question to you, Microsoft: why must you fix something that is clearly not broken?  I don't like all the colorful tabs that rearrange everything.  I especially don't like how the default setting for font is Calibri, size 11.  I MEAN, WTF?  Nobody in the world has industry standards of Calibri, size 11!  WTF is Calibri anyway?  Answer: the ugliest font known to man.  And it's in size 11 because it's a speshul snowflake.  

I know I sound like a crotchety 80-year-old bemoaning the advent of personal computers, but I care not.  MS Word 2007: DO NOT WANT.

Write What You Know

How do I feel about that statement?

On one hand, it is absolutely stupid to write what you know, especially for fantasy writers.  I mean, none of us know what's it like to live in a magic land or to live in sixth century BC Greece. It's all about your imagination.

At the same time, it's hard to write what you don't know.  Like...I think I have a mother fetish. What do I mean by that?  The MC of my novel is a mother.  And I'm trying really hard to make her feelings and thoughts authentic, but what the hey.  I don't know what's it like to lose a child. Heck, I have no idea what it's like to go through labor and watch a BABY pop out of your loins. It's pretty hard to simulate something like that.  And plus, the fanfiction story I'm supposedly working on at the moment (supposedly, because it's been on hiatus for the past week and a half) is about a mother dealing with her son being a "problem child."  He has ADHD and dyslexia, and he attracts all kinds of monsters.  I don't even know anybody personally who has dyslexia.  I've met maybe one person who had diagnosed ADHD.  And I've definitely not met any children of Poseidon.

I'm still pretty young, so there are plenty of experiences in life I haven't had.  It makes it all the more difficult to write certain scenarios in an emotionally accurate way.

The Friday Five

AH.  I have absolutely nothing useful to say.  Which is why I did not post yesterday, even though I planned to.  

1. Harry Potter 6 is coming out.  This is exciting.  Are you excited?  I don't have tickets yet.  This is not okay!  I need tickets.  If I miss the midnight premiere...I don't even want to think about it. Also, the Percy Jackson teaser trailer is reportedly coming out with the HP movie.  As low as my hopes are for this project, I am still dying to see the trailer.  

2. How long does it take you to finish a draft?  I am feeling epicly slow.  Especially for summer.  I should be whipping this thing out faster.  New goal: be done with this draft before the semester begins.

3. I am not suicidal.  There is a line in Chapter 3 of ATRS: "There were worse things than dying young."  Someone in my writing class said in his feedback, Don't get any ideas.  :-)  Haha, thanks for the concern.

4. There are other things you can learn in a creative writing course other than creative writing. For instance, we learned the origin of the condom (we are so classy).  Also, yesterday, the same guy who told me not to kill myself (yay?) taught me something utterly cool.  You know the clicky button on your key that unlocks your car?  If you  put the key up to your head, it works from farther away.  None of you know me in real life, but I am probably one of the most gullible people you will ever meet.  I thought he was pulling my leg until he dragged me out to the parking lot and made me test it out for myself.  It works!  This is never going to be useful to me in any way, but still...awesome.  Although, I told him if I get brain cancer one day, I'll be sure to put the blame squarely on him.

5. Would somebody please explain to me how Facebook is useful in furthering your writing career?  The only thing I know Facebook to be useful for is destroying your chances at getting hired if someone tags you in drunk pictures.  Yet I keep seeing all these agents saying you need to get a Twitter, you need to get a Facebook.  I have a Facebook, of course, but it's because I've had one since high school, and everyone my age has a Facebook.  You use it for social networking with existing friends.  How do you meet new people over Facebook?  I don't friend anyone I don't personally know.  Therefore, no one who does not personally know me can look at my information.  And I flat out refuse to get a Twitter.  No offense, but unless you're a celebrity, I do not care to know about your minute-to-minute doings.  The only time I went on Twitter was for news on the Iran election.

6. (I know I said there would be five, but I thought of something else, and it took me a long time to come up with that title so DEAL WITH IT) I am helpful on Lady Glam's blog.  I have officially shed my stalker status.  Win.

As usual, more writing needs to be done, and I am a slacker.  Story of my life.

Point of View

Lin started the blog chain this week on choosing points of view.

I don't think about point of view.  It just...happens.  ATRS is in first person, because that's how I started writing it.  In the back of my mind, I may have vaguely thought since the story was a bizarre one and mostly happens to one character, it would be better to have it told from that character's point of view.  But mostly, I put words onto a page, and they ended up being in first person.

My second novel is in third person limited.  This seems to be a popular style these days.  At least--I see it everywhere.  I mainly picked it because I had recently finished the first draft of ATRS, and I was tired of writing in first person.  It's that simple.  When I'm writing in a particular point of view, the short stories I do during that time are generally in another point of view.  Just to keep things interesting for myself.  I'm selfish like that.

Confession: I can't do third person omniscient.  I confuse myself.  It sounds forced.  I've read wonderful things in this point of view, but I can't pull it off to save my life.

Second person is dumb.  This is my conclusion.  I have seen maybe three books in my life that have this point of view, and I've never read past the second page.  It's too distracting.  I won't say I'll never read something good in second person, but the author will either be a blowout bestseller or threatening my death.  Someone will have to hogtie me to a chair, flip pages, and peel my eyelids back with duct tape for me to finish it.

I've only written multiple narrators for fanfiction and only short stories in that category.  I love it when authors can do this effectively, but I myself prefer to stick with one person.

I'm slightly ashamed to admit it, but POV is something I don't give a lot of thought to.  When stories come to me, they come via one character, and it becomes natural to pick that character to tell the story.  

I don't think I'll be attempting a first person for a while after ATRS is done.  I constantly have to worry about not starting too many sentences with I, and after awhile, it gets nauseating to look at (only my own work ^-^).

Maybe other people will offer better insight.  Also, I'm incredibly sleepy.

Monday: Lin Wang - Teen Writer

Tuesday: Somewhere Nowhere In My Kingdom

Wednesday: Me

Thursday: Gibber Jabber and Sometimes Helpful Nonsense

Friday: Girl-With-A-Notebook

PS I hope Lisa and Laura feel really good about themselves for introducing me to Statcounter.  It is a soul-sucking useful tool for seeing how many hits your site gets every day.  It also lets you see what region of the country everyone is from which is good for stalking...research.

Things I Am Displeased With...And Goals

Displeasing things:

1) Degrassi.  Is too addicting.  Must stop watching.  I get the idea that more people in America watch this show than in Canada, even though it's a Canadian show.  Uh, I think it's time for college to start again, because I'm getting too bored.  All I want to do is watch TV, be on the Internet, and sleep.  And not write.

2) Michael Jackson's death.  I know this is a late realization.  So you know, I never listened to MJ's music until he died.  After it happened, since it was all over everything, I started to get into it, and guess what?  I love it!  I haven't been listening to anything except his stuff lately.  And now I'm upset because I'm obviously an awful person for not appreciating a musical genius until he's no longer with us.  I felt so guilty I actually prayed about it, so maybe God can relay my messages along.  No seriously.  I don't think I've ever felt this guilty about a celebrity dying before.  So...I'll probably be watching the memorial on Tuesday.

Goals:

3) Fourth of July baby.  I hope everyone had an awesome 4th of July.  It was raining here (LAME), but it stopped at night in time for the fireworks show.  Then we had skillet cookies and all was well.  So anyway, I knew during the election season (because I am a CANDIDATE STALKER; watch out 2012) that Malia Obama was a 4th of July baby.  My friends and I were talking about how cool it would be to have a birthday then.  It is probably the only cool holiday in which to have a birthday.  Christmas?  No.  Everyone will simply use the excuse to give you one set of presents instead of two.  But 4th of July?  Party!  You get fireworks on your b-day.  How fabulous.  Anyway, so if it's possible, I would like to have a 4th of July baby.  Someone pointed out it would actually not be that fun because you would be in the hospital all day in labor.  But that's only one year.  The rest of your life you can be like, "Hey, I have a 4th of July baby!  What now?  That makes me more patriotic than you."  BAM.

4) Have a better writing week.  Last week was awful.  I skipped at least two days, and I didn't write more than 1,000 words on the other days to make up for it.  I am in the throes of the dreaded midway slump.  I don't know what it is that makes the middle of a story so hard to get through. But I am having an awful time with it.  Probably not helping at all that I keep getting sidetracked by Michael Jackson music videos.  And Degrassi.  Plus, rehearsal for Sound of Music starts this week and ajskdfioejakl;sdflkdjsk.  Meltdown.  

I miss Beauty and the Beast.  Speaking of which, I saw the Beast at the fireworks, and since I couldn't remember his name, I hailed him down by screeching, "Beast!  Beast!"  It was really inconspicuous, let me tell you.

Um, sorry for getting too off topic.  It's Monday.  Tell me your writing goal!  Make me feel less lame for slacking off last week!  And give me some tips about how to work my way through The Midway Slump!

Fantasy Or Reality?

All righty, here we are again at another installment of The Blog Chain.  This topic comes courtesy of Jenita, and you can read her detailed, focused answer at the link.  Because I'm going to warn you right now.  My answer will not be focused.  When are my blog posts ever focused?  So, do I prefer fantasy or reality?  And why?

Well, I'm writing a fantasy.  And my second project is slated to be a fantasy.  But does that mean I prefer it?

I don't.  I like fantasy and reality the same.  But the books I read tend more often than not to be fantasy because I prefer books that provide some form of escapism.  Something that doesn't relate to my life in any way (exception: Asian-American literature, and we'll get to that).  Of course, don't get the idea that my family is in dire financial straits and I'm in an abusive relationship and my parents neglected me as a child.  My life is totally fine, and I count my blessings.  

Still, a book should take me away somewhere, make me believe in the world it presents.  This includes fantasy (most obviously), and maybe some genres you wouldn't think of.  A good thriller. A historical romance.  Dystopic fiction.  That sort of thing.  I don't like contemporary stuff.  I hate to use this term, but I don't know how else to define it: chick lit.  I have read good chick lit.  I just don't go out of my way to read something that isn't recommended in that "genre" (again, I don't like the idea of chick lit being a genre, because there's no such thing as manly lit, so the term is stupid).  I had a wonderful high school experience, and I am incredibly NOT into things like Gossip Girl etc.

Ha, that was the worst answer to the question ever.  

Okay, FINE.  I guess, I prefer fantasy.  Harry Potter, Twilight, Percy Jackson, Narnia: all of this stuff is lovely.  To be specific, urban fantasy is better in my mind because it provides just enough reality to make me think, "Wow, I could almost believe there really is a Camp Half-Blood" or "Maybe one day I can find that magical wardrobe!"  I grew up with Harry Potter, and when I was eleven, I half-hoped I would get that Hogwarts letter.  (This right here is going to provide the anti-magic, psycho book-banning people plenty of fodder for labeling HP a product of the devil.)

Also, fantasy is good because it puts characters in situations where their true meddle is tested.  In drastic ways.  You don't get these drastic tests in reality-based books.  I will go ahead and incite some controversy by saying that fighting a dragon is harder than anything you'll encounter in a high school scenario.  Fighting a dragon who is your mother turned insane by a witch is EVEN HARDER.

I said earlier the only exception I have to this rule is Asian-American literature.  I am always on a hunt for this stuff (particularly Chinese lit).  For those of you who can read/write Chinese, I mean AA lit in English.  For example: The Joy Luck Club, The Fold, Wait for Me, Seeing Emily, etc.  I have a fascination for the AA experience and how it relates to my own.  Maybe because sometimes, I need to know other people understand what it means to grow up American in a Chinese household.  This is more than generational gap, people.  This is cultural, linguistic, moral gap.  Literary therapy is much needed.

And that's all.  My disclaimer, as always, is up top: "unorganized observations" and nobody wins at unorganized posts like I do.

Let's get this battle going.  Fantasy or reality?

See everybody else's less ambiguous answers:

Monday: Girl-With-A-Notebook

Tuesday: Gibber Jabber and Sometimes Helpful Nonsense

Wednesday: Somewhere Nowhere In My Kingdom

Thursday: Moi

Friday: Lin Wang - Teen Writer

What Do You Want?

Back to my usually scheduled writing-related posts.  Rebecca had a post about what she wants out of her writing, which is to be a successful YA career novelist.  This makes me step back and think what I want out of this whole thing.  What is my ultimate goal in writing?  

I think I may be in the minority here.  I don't want to be a career novelist.  As in, I don't want it to be the source of food on the table, roof over my head, money for my retirement.  The very idea makes me uncomfortable.  I'm getting a degree in history, and hopefully going on to work in the law.  That's what I want to do.  I'm very practical.  I'm getting an education in these areas because I intend to use it.  I did not fight my parents for months on end to get a degree in history only to end up throwing it away for writing.  I love my major.  I love the track I'm on now.

I've written for years on things I knew would never see the light of day.  It didn't bother me.  I was fine and dandy writing fanfiction, and I suspect if I'm not published, I'd be fine and dandy doing it still.  But I don't want it to be my job.  Because I like it being a sort of...extremely passionate hobby.  When you make your hobby your job, it invariably changes.  There's no getting around it. You look at it differently.  You have to think about whether your next novel sells, because if it doesn't, you won't get a paycheck.  You're on a hardcore timeline for when you need to turn out drafts.  And you have all day to write.

All day to write.  Does that sound cool to you?  It sounds cool for about three days.  When I have an infinite amount of time to write, you know how long it takes for me to turn out a chapter?  An infinite amount of time.  If I have two hours, you know how long it takes?  Two hours.  Don't ask me why.  Maybe I have psychological time-management issues.  But that's the way it is. That's why it's so hard for me to get my butt in gear in the summer.

Now, don't get me wrong.  I want to get published.  I want to continue publishing lots and lots of books.  I want to have a NYT bestseller (it's a blatant lie if you're a writer, and you can't admit in the secret, darkest corners of your ambitious heart that you want to hit a bestseller list of some sort).  I want to be good, and I take it seriously.  I'm trying super hard to be good and improve.  I want to be see my name in print before I die.

However, there are a lot of things I want to do before I die.  Get married, have kids, go to an Ivy League school, live in Seattle, go to Europe, Australia, go parachuting, you know.  Publication is just another goal on that list.  A big goal, highlighed and underlined in red, but just another goal, nonetheless.  

Even if I don't ever get published, I'll continue to write.  I write because I love it.  If I don't get published, I'll still love writing.  If you don't become a professional book reviewer, will you stop reading?  Same idea.

It's interesting to see what different people want out of their writing.  It's important to know what you want, regardless.  Have you thought about this lately?

Public Enemies - A Lesson In Fail

I am not one to do movie reviews.  I am not a movie connoisseur.  But I am so moved by this movie that I need to tell you right now, after having gone to the midnight premiere.

Moved in a way that makes me want to vomit.  This is, hands down, the worst movie I've seen in the past two years.  I wished it was over after the first half hour.  The sheer amount of hatred I have for this movie could fill Santa's sleigh for several Christmases.  And maybe critics will call it "art."  But let me tell you:

If you thought Transformers lacked a plot, this movie made Transformers look like The Dark Knight.  It has no plot.  I'm not exaggerating.  I can't even summarize this movie because I don't know what the fuck happened in it.  Novel-writing 101 should tell you 7 minutes into the movie, you need an inciting incident.  There is no inciting incident.  I don't care about the characters because there is no characterization and no link with the audience.  I couldn't decide who I wanted to die more (and rest assured, I wanted everyone to die).  I tried so hard to like somebody, anybody, but I couldn't give a damn about a single person.  By the end, my friends and I were rooting for Bale to blow a hole through Depp's head so we could leave the theater.

By the end, I wanted to blow a hole in my own head.

Mostly, this makes me horribly sad, because I never thought I would see the day when Johnny Depp and Christian Bale would make a bad movie apart, let alone together.  This isn't only a bad movie.  This is Meet-The-Spartans-bad.  This movie has no redeeming qualities.  These are A-list actors!  How could they watch this movie and let it out into the world?  Now, I have an intense need to watch Sweeney Todd, Pirates, and The Dark Knight to remind me that these two actors are actually good.  I can't believe this thing got halfway decent reviews on Rotten Tomatoes.  I have officially lost all faith in critics.  I don't care how artistic you think this movie is (and if it's art, than my novel must be Shakespeare-caliber work), it has no entertainment value.  I'm not being biased at all when I say if this movie got 57% fresh, Transformers deserves 95% at least for having cool special effects and causing audiences to want the Autobots to win.  The cardinal rule of novels, movies, whatever: I need to care about the characters.  They had no motives for doing anything.  They had as much motive as I would have if I randomly decided to punch myself in the face right now.  Well, actually, I would have a motive, because then maybe I could get amnesia and forget about how my two favorite actors failed so epicly.

And I wish I was blowing this out of proportion, I really do.  Unfortunately, I'm not.  I'm not even mad I wasted six bucks.  I got a lot of laughs out of it, so I'm going to pretend it was a comedy and call it a day.  I'm mad Johnny Depp and Christian Bale took on this project in the first place.  Did they fail to read the script?  Did they not realize the director was Michael Bay, minus cool CGI, plus living in his mother's basement with a five dollar camera and two dollar lighting system? Did they think, "Gee, I really want to screw up my career in the biggest way possible.  Whatever shall I do?"

TELL ME.  Because I am in total disbelief.  I feel a lot better about my novel now, because I'm firmly convinced I could write better dialogue on the toilet.  While smoking weed.  I guess that's a plus.