Agonies of a Young Author

This makes me laugh and cry at the same time. Really, what are we poor English majors to DO in life??

Ah, careers and jobs and salaries and real life matters. How you depress me. So very, very much.

I like my rosy pink bubble of illusion, thank you very much. I'm comfortable in here. We have discussions about death in Emerson and the cult of Harold Bloom. And cookies.

Lots of cookies.

Write Now:
What I'm listening to: "Not Fair" by Kate Havnevik
What I want most: someone to tell me "Do X. Study Y. You'll be fine. Z is the greatest, happiest place in the whole wide world!" (*sigh*)

So I have recently finished a completely empowering, you-go-girl, popular-fiction-is-not-a-crime kind of article. Here's the thing though-- with all my bravado, I still treat fiction as my secret mistress. It's the passion I get on the side while loyalty still remains with poetry.

The kind of fiction I write is not conclusive to the contests on literary magazines that I would submit my poetry to. My poetry is much more high-brow than my fiction (well, mostly). Still, that doesn't mean I lack ambition for my fiction. I do want to have it published, and I do want people to read it-- it's just stepping out a little and admitting to both at the same time. Especially in professional (day job) settings.
           *Yes, I write about pretty flowers and zombies.*

I cringe a little when I think about turning in my resume or showing up to a job interview. How do you make popular fiction credible to the literary (slash and/or snooty) crowd? When you live in (and for) academia, what strategies of reconciliation can you use to balance both sides (of yourself)? And how do you advocate something that (even) you (yourself) are ashamed of?

I don't like this trait. But I'm also not sure what to do about it.

Write Now:
What I'm listening to: "It's Not Alright ft. Sinima" by Iras
What I want most: to find a downloadable version of this song. Stupid iTunes.

I am desperately, deeply, unshakably in love with Winston Weathers. And his theory of alternative grammar. Sadly, the book has been out of print for about 30 years, and therefore no link to the actual book. But my library had a copy, and. . .

It's a very passionate love. Very, very passionate. I'm very much in love.

So I thought I would share allllllll this love with you! *grin*

I can't seem to figure out how to embed .pdfs (anyone on Blogger? tips?) so I will have to give you link soup instead:


the review

my BAMF! 5 page essay
(and yes, I totally quoted the Shoebox Chronicles in my epitaph!)

my equally as BAMF! worksheet 
(feel free to complete it haha)

Another handout from Humbolt University 

ENJOY!!

Write Now:
What I'm listening to: KT Tunstall "Ashes"
What I want most: ice creammmmmmm

The dread word.

Finals. (*shudder*)

At least I have the excuse of a poetry portfolio to prepare for to get in those hours of poetry fix. On the other hand, I have the excuse of a poetry portfolio to prepare for to screw away 5 hours or so. Uhhhhhh, I mean...

Ahem. Anyways.

So I have 40 or so poems to do a final revision on and get printed. But this is amongst my other papers and finals, so Time. Management. Is. Key.

Also, Internet. Use. Must. Be. Limited.

But I really dislike that last sentence. Right now, I'm so starved for outside stimulation to offset the pressures of studying one subject for hours on end that my normal internet routine is not cutting it.

So I'm opening it up to comments. Where do YOU go for intellectual stimulation and/or wonder? What writing rejuvenation do you find out there on the web? Is there any author whose you have a blog-crush on, and who never fails to make you feel better?

It's not winter, but the three M's of the post title seem to have forgotten (harhar!) that fact. Me? I'm in total reclusive mode because of the recently finished conference that I helped plan/coordinate/run at my campus, and haven't stirred from my bed (unless absolutely necessary; sometimes not even then) since it ended on Sunday. The Muse? Well, haven't heard from her in a while. She seems to be snuggled down in some cave, and everytime I activate the G.P.S. something happens and static washes across my monitor. And my memory...

Ah, my memory. I'm losing it-- totally, completely gone, and finals coming up next week.

NEXT WEEK!! Can you believe it? Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! *tears out hair molecules by the root*

So many things to do. So many. Including back posting a couple of things, but really...

Voice of Reason: ... really, it ain't gonna happen, Shelly honey. Maybe it's okay to let a few things go....

Me: (*stubborn two year old*) No!

Voice of Reason: Shelly, honey, do you really think that you can handle all of finals while adding on low priority things like writing and blogging?

Me: LOW PRIORITY?!?!?!?!?!?!

Voice of Reason: (*exasperated*) I meant that relatively...

Me: Writing is my life! Writing is all I have! Finals mean nothing! Nothing! NUUUUUUUUUTHIN'!

Voice of Reason: (*exhausted*) You aren't going to be logical on this are you?\

Me: (*stubborn two year old*) No!

and so on and so forth.

Write Now:
What I'm listening to: Library!!! Finals!!! Madness!!! Shhhhhhhh!
What I want most: A Kahlua and hot stone massage. At the same time. Somewhere on the beach.

So many writing deadlines! So many writing deadlines! So I will just give you the new logo that I designed for the hypothetical website template that I will gradually shift the blog and my website into. Someday.

Someday.

Right Now:
What I'm listening to: shhhhhhh! I'm in the library
What I want most: to finish this article, and that paper, and that essay, oh! and that essay too, and, and, and, and ....

"DIE, MIDTERMS, DIE!"

*chops off head of Middle East Cultures*

*immediately spins, backhands East Asia*

*swings at American Lit, follows through with blow from the hilt, and reverse lunging stab through the stomach*

*pants uncontrollably, wipes at sweat*

...

*spots stray East Asia paper* *eyes widen*

"ARGH! DIE, MIDTERMS, DIE!!!"

muhblugaglaubauelgh midterms muhblugaglaubauelgh

I've recently been thinking about academic writing, and thinking about doing a college honors thesis that I would want to develop into a book, a masters thesis that I would want to develop into a book, a Ph. D thesis that I would want to develop into a book. I've gone on a quest to buy reference books at Barnes and Nobles on academic writing (thanks again for the birthday present Paternal Voice!) and approach professors about this topic. But undergraduate publishing is one of those goals that are more hazy than say, publishing a single poem, but more concrete than say, buying a yacht and sailing around the world in 180 days. It's a desert mirage, close enough to touch but as insubstantial as the sand.

I don't know why this mentality seems to take over sometime. The kind of half-carelessness, half-lacking-in-awareness, half-un-prioritized mentality that stops you before you ever take a step. The kind that never says "You can't" because you never even reached "You can."

It's a stupid sort of mentality, and one I fell into without even really realizing it. It's not just dreaming, saying "I will" without following through, but something more sly and insidious. But I'm not going to focus on the mentality, but on how I broke it.

Last night, I submitted a term paper to a campus academic journal. It felt weird, taking something I've already written and just submitting it, without the agony and the massive bouts of indecision. I spent maybe 45 minutes tops to edit it, not because it was brilliant, but because the paper was stoutly solid. One of those papers that serve to build a reputation on, but nothing to gather any calls of genius.

But it didn't need to be. What I needed, I submitted. And I submitted an academic paper, a hurdle that I never foresaw facing in the first week of classes, much less in this semester. I was preparing for a battle that never came, and the ease of the entire process is discerning.

But I submitted an academic paper.

And even if I'm entering into a race that I didn't sign up for because I was training for the race next year, guess what? I still took that first hurdle.

I submitted an academic paper.

Right now:
What I'm listening to: "Alejandro" by Lady Gaga
What I want most: a little free time to write from a new book of exercises