Twas the night before Christmas, when all through Monica's house,
Not a creature was stirring, 'cept for Monica's mouse.
The words on her screen had been written with care,
In hopes that someday a full story would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While waiting to go Mass in new threads.
And mamma on the couch, and I in my lap,
Had just settled my PC while the others did nap.
When out on tumblr there arose such a clatter,
I saved every image to preserve this dear matter.
Away to a new window I opened like a flash,
Brought up my Pinterest and shouted, "HULK SMASH!"
... except not really, because as I mentioned earlier, everyone is asleep.
Here I am, waiting for Midnight Mass, and writing fairytales. I've successfully downed a cup of Earl Grey and a mug of coffee. I have scrolled through a bazillion pages of gorgeous Frozen concept art to fuel my aforementioned fairytale writing binge. I honestly just want some more writing time for Christmas. Is that too much to ask? Oh, and I want Eleven to stay forever.
Stay? Please? DAT FOG WATCH. DAT VELVET VEST. *dies inside*
^ Best Doctor Who Christmas special, like, EVER. Brilliant.
Break is just scrumptious. I can't really explain it. It's been a busy succession of tiny little moments that haven't been particularly Christmas-like in nature but I just know that I am on the brink of something magical and sacred and it's exhilarating, honestly. Plus, reading for fun. I'm rereading Mansfield Park. It's even better the second time around. It's as if the characters are all tugging on my sleeve and saying, "Remember me? You've only analyzed half of what I have to offer. Would you care to take a turn about the Room of Literary Bliss?" And then Edmund Bertram gets me enough paper to write a thousand letters back home and I save the most perfectly crisp page just for him and--- I digress.
So, one semester down, one dragon slayed.
OH MY GOOD HEAVENS, I just realized my family is watching Monsters U in the other room!
Things can get a
little weird in Ally and I's dorm room when it's as late in the evening as it
is late in the semester. Our room becomes a passing stop for equally overtired
comrades, who are given the rare opportunity to witness Ally and I in our most
fragile mental state. Take, for example, our practice night for Flirting
Friday.
After respective
cases of tummy troubles and burnout, Ally and I resigned ourselves to a night
in last Sunday. A double feature of Singin' in the Rain and Return to Me was in
order. We topped off the afternoon/evening with giant fuzzy blankets and room service
(a.k.a. a pair of nice friends who kindly brought us dinner around five or so).
The night went on, and slowly our minds unraveled. We were exhausted in every
sense of the word. Between exams and the comings and goings of daily life, I
think I speak for both of us when I say that I was completely and totally DONE.
Honestly, Thanksgiving break should have started that weekend for me -- I don't
think anything received my full attention the rest of that week. On a crazy
scale of one to Norman Bates, we were about a seven. It was in this mentally
unstable state that somehow, someone proposed the idea of Flirting Friday.
According to
tradition, Friday is "Fluff-off Friday" for Ally and I. No
housecleaning ("house" being our tiny dorm room). No laundry. No
chores. Just well-deserved relaxation after a week well done. Trading it in for
Flirting Friday didn't sound very appealing, but I humored Ally, as well as a
friend who was keeping us company in our room.
I, Honest Abe, told
'em like it is: "But I can't flirt to save my life."
So Ally decided to
show me how it was done.
Her version of
flirting, or at least the version that was presented to me on that exceptional
evening, was discussion of Shakespeare punctuated frequently by the word
"like". (Even when she's it down, Ally still comes across as smart.)
Then it was my turn. There was lots of hair twirling… Yup, that was pretty much
it. I quit a few lines in. It was BAD.
So we laughed it all
off and abandoned the idea of Flirting Friday. At least, I did… until the
memory came rushing back during a Black Friday interaction that revolutionized
my self-image*.
* That was
definitely hyperbole, just to clarify. Exaggeration hand raised all the way up,
peeps.
I don't know where
my sisters and I got the bright idea to drive to the theater that is attached
to a mall on Black Friday when there is a perfectly good theater half the
distance from our house in the opposite direction, but that's what we did. I
think my sis wanted to get some shopping in, and naturally she was the only one
who had luck in the half hour we spent running like mad around the store.
ANYWAYS. We walk in to the theater with just enough time to snag tickets and
seats before the previews start. I pay for all of us -- 3 PM showing of
Catching Fire for four -- and we head towards the ticket-ripper-guy. He was
pretty tall, had some seriously curly, relatively long hair, and I couldn't peg
an age on him. (Had to be at least eighteen.) As he ripped our tickets and
pointed us towards Theater 1, he cracked a joke about not getting lost. It was
pretty funny, sure. I mean, Theater 1 was in plain sight from where we were
standing. Everyone gives that polite laugh that is genuine but not quite genuine
because it wasn't *that* funny. Last girl standing, I hand him my ticket, and
he looks at me and says something about "following my friends" or
something like that. And it hit me like lightning. His tone, the look he was
giving me… It wasn't a normal social interaction.
THIS GUY WAS
FLIRTING WITH ME.
Instead of panicking
or making some derptastic noise, I felt a surge of power. The perfect witty
comeback materialized right in the forefront of my mind. I knew precisely what
smile to give him. I could have even batted my eyelashes for good measure. IT WOULD
HAVE BEEN BLACK FLIRTING FRIDAY, PEOPLE.
But I didn't. I
wasn't interested. I think I laughed politely again and booked it to the
bathroom. Yet even though it was an isolated incident and I didn't follow
through with it and it wasn't even that big a deal, for about two seconds I
possessed the power of flirtation. It was empowering. But honestly, I'm pretty
happy being my incapable-of-flirting self. Can you imagine if I had the power
of flirtation in addition to all of my other numerous gifts, namely my knack
for humility? A girl can only be so many things before it starts becoming
unfair. You know, before people start to hate you... I think I'll leave the flirting to the professionals.
Please don't kill me. O_O
PS - Catching Fire
was pretty good. DUDE, KATNISS' SWEATER THING. It's like a cocoon, but for
PEOPLE.
I guess it's high
time I gave you folks an update on my NaNoWriMo experience this year. In case
you weren't already aware, I didn't win this year. In fact, I didn't come
anywhere close. I still have to update my word count. I think I hit somewhere
in the 10,000 to 15,000 word range. November ended up being an awfully
stressful month for school, and I couldn't exactly stay up late to get ahead on
my word count like in high school. Truth is, I'm not that disappointed. I
started writing a trio of wonderful fairy-tales that have so much promise, I
could care less if they won me NaNo bragging rights!
For the past two
months, I've been falling in love with fairytale writing all over again. It
relieves my stress instead of adding to it, even when I hit roadblocks.
Fairy-tales provide such a wonderful opportunity to communicate a meaningful
message, tie in themes and symbolism, throw in some quirky characters, while
also maintaining a sense of humor. To top off my fairy-tale love affair, I had
the pleasure of watching Frozen this past weekend. That movie reminded me why I
love story-telling so much. It was beautiful. I would highly encourage you all
to see it. Don't listen to the music until after you've watched it, even though
it's awesome. Oh, and prepare to laugh hysterically. I'd recommend checking out
your sense of decorum at the door.
Let it be known that
I write this post while rocking out to the Frozen soundtrack. Gosh, it's so
good, it makes me want to write for Disney or something.
Look, Anna has
freckles! Makes me feel a lot better after this post. Also, Hans has SIDEBURNS and a CRAVAT. Who designed these characters? Can I write them a thank you note? And would they kindly send me an exact replica of Anna's outfit, right down to the boots? Pleaseandthankyou.
In other news, it snowed today. It was the first real snow here at school, and Ally and I were naturally ecstatic. It was the kind of snow that made your hair sparkly and crunched under your feet. Combined with all of our Frozen references, I daresay it was a pretty good morning.
Conversation can be intimidating. I fluctuate between being an expert conversationalist and a floundering, speechless dimbo. My go-to conversation-starter spiel goes a little something like this.
1. Shout and/or say the person's name in a strange accent.
2. Ask a ridiculous question while bouncing around like my sister when the rest of my sisters and I spiked her milk with sugar a few years ago.
3. Stumble through the rest of the interaction.
* If you don't believe me, I can have any number people confirm that THIS IS A THING and I really do it.
On account of my general social awkwardness (which may or may not be apparent), I love it when other people approach me. (Assuming I want to talk to them. Obviously.) I don't have to scream their name like I'm being murdered in a horror film to get their attention! Better yet is when they come prepared with a topic of conversation, lest I resort to pithy arguments where my opinion makes virtually no sense. This too is a "thing". I've done it several times over. Pity me in my lack of social prowess.
Enter my Pride and Prejudice tote bag.
This thing is washable canvas, perfectly sized to contain my schoolbooks and my allergy medication, AND is the ideal conversation starter. I have lost track of the number of compliments this bag has earned me. Some of them have been from gentlemenly persons. They were males who were dead serious about my Jane Austen paraphernalia. As it turns out, some of my college friends had scoped me out as potential friend material way back during orientation on account of my bag. (Emily detailed the whole start of our friendship on her blog.) I'm telling you, this tote bag is amazing. Thank goodness I have a second one at home.
(Long story. Another post for another day.)
I guess the moral of the story is that it's a good idea to wear your heart on your sleeve. Or, more specifically, your interests on your bag. Makes the whole conversation thing at least twenty times easier. The end.
I think I need a writer's retreat. Even after a week of fall break, the words are just... Well, the only analogy I can think of is the feeling peanut butter stuck to the roof of my mouth. The stories are there, but they're almost as sticky as Ally's super-duper-borderline-crazy organic peanut butter. They're stuck to the roof of my... brain? See what I mean! I'm so desperate, I'm comparing things to peanut butter. I need a drink. By drink, I mean tea. Or coffee. Hot chocolate is also acceptable. Oh my heavens I haven't a pumpkin-flavored beverage yet. This is a major problem. Someone, anyone, please! I need a good dose of pumpkin before autumn gives way to the winter blues!!!
GOOD GRIEF, LOOK AT THAT. WHAT IS THAT? THE NECTAR OF THE GODS!?
Back on track. I don't see a real, honest-to-goodness writing retreat anywhere in my near future, but I do see a whole month dedicated to novel writing. Ladies n' gentlemen, it is that time again. That time of the year when my crazy levels are at least three standard deviations away from average and my friends and family start to seriously reconsider my presence in their lives. It's almost NaNoWriMo!
*ze super cool image from ze NaNoWriMo webzite*
This year is a really awful year to attempt writing a novel in thirty days. I know for a fact that I am going to be super stressed about school and whatnot. But I also know that I would kick myself if I didn't at least sign up and write on the first day! Who knows what will come of next month. I think I can convince a few other sorry suckers to try their hands at (at least) a few days of frenzied writing spurts with me. The tentative plan is to reboot my NaNo novel from last year, which was not at all what I intended it to be but still showed a lot of promise. I figure if I start fresh, I can redo the whole premise but maintain the integrity of the characters and the overall feel of the story-world. Cool stuff, huh?
Now that you all know my plans, I can get back to my Astronomy homework. Maybe I'll even get a NaNo-planning session in... A girl can dream!
“I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.”
Isn't this beautiful? http://kasia1989.deviantart.com/art/Friendship-Anne-From-Green-Gables-337566594
It is October, which has to be my favorite month. It's a delightful combination of brisk fall air, pumpkin-flavored desserts, cozy sweaters, boots, and steaming hot beverages. Autumn is also my most productive writing season. With rainy days and nostalgia practically humming in the air, there is no shortage of inspiration during the fall months. Endless scope for the imagination! Therefore, this is about that time of year when my Anne-ish tendencies really start to show.
Anne-ish tendency: (n) an inclination towards the literary, the imaginative, and the occasionally stubborn nature of a certain Anne Shirley; see "Anne of Green Gables"
Isn't this cover cute!?
After a long and stressful week full of schoolwork and studying, last night I desperately needed to indulge my inner Anne. My friend Emily from There is a Bend (she's kind of sort of adorable so you should really check out her blog) invited Ally and I to her room for coffee and tea. (I never thought I would find myself drinking caffeinated beverages at 9:30 PM, but somehow college makes caffeine seem like a good idea at any time of the day.) Long story short, we all ended up breaking out our old writings. And oh, did my Anne-inclined heart ache! After days upon days of bumbling through college and not feeling quite myself, I could feel my familiar Anne-ish tendencies welling up in my chest. It was wonderful. Sitting in the depths of despair while being a pseudo-adult can be really exhausting. Sometimes, you need a healthy does of Anne-ness to make life bearable.
“That's the worst of growing up, and I'm beginning to realize it. The
things you wanted so much when you were a child don't seem half so
wonderful to you when you get them.”
How I felt getting dropped off at school.
Though I have yet to discover our local Lake of Shining Waters, this school has great potential as my own personal Avonlea. The gym rents out canoes, for heaven's sake. It's like they want me to act out The Lady of Shalot in the Shenandoah River!
* ~ * ~ *
In looking up all of these quotes for this blog post, I have realized that I desperately need to reread Anne of Green Gables. Also, I need Gilbert's stupid face.
Stahp it. You're too cute. And stupid. But mainly cute.
Did you guys know that they're making The Book Thief into a movie? Well, they are. I need to get to the store so I can buy approximately 500 boxes of double ply tissues.
GUYZ, it looks SO GOOOOOD. I watched the trailer for the first time with a friend this morning, and the whole time, we were like this:
RUDY, RUDY, RUDY!!!!!!!! GUYZ, HE LOOKS SO ADORABLE. And Max! And the Hubermanns! Can we make that 1,000 boxes of double ply tissues?
YES, ME. Being a freshman is hard. I have no idea what to expect. Things are awkward half the time because practically everyone is a stranger. It's this bizarre mix of exciting, terrible, stressful, and fun, all at the same time. Fortunately for me, I have Ally from Charlie and Me as a roommate, which means that we don't fight over house rules or boys or muffins.
We also back each other up during awkward or difficult moments.
Furthermore, it means we watched The Importance of Being Earnest. So let me tell you earnestly a thing or two about my first week of college. May you learn from my experience, dear reader.
1. Getting a cold without Mom's TLC is miserable, so come prepared.
*achoo*
I got a sore throat on the second or third day being away from home. It was miserable, and I was panicking, because I've had some pretty nasty cases of strep throat in the past and I know for a fact it's not fun. Fortunately, I came to school fully stocked with Vitamic C drops, honey, Advil, and all the other things a sicky Vicky might need. I don't know what I would have done without them.
2. Keep your expectations realistic.
You're not going to walk on campus and be the coolest thing anybody has ever seen. You're also probably not going to meet your future spouse on the first day (emphasis on the "probably"). So if you're hoping for this:
Expect to be momentarily impressed before getting distracted by one of the other zillion things going on.
And if you thought you had just signed up for four years of fun and games, well... Keep in mind, you're going to be studying a lot of German grammar.
You'll look perfectly plain in the process, but you ARE supposed to be getting an education.
3. Always make time for writing, even it requires a make-believe excuse.
Writing is therapy. I can say this with every fiber of my being after orientation week. Whether I was typing up a blog post, jotting down thoughts in my random journal, working on a fairytale, utilizing my prayer journal, or throwing together a passage for a potential novel, I felt so much more relaxed during and after writing. It keeps your head screwed on straight and lets you take out all of your stress on the page. Do whatever it takes to make writing a daily exercise.
Any other college newbies who are putting their pens to paper?
As a child, Disney gave me some unrealistic expectations in regards to hair. I was never satisfied with my own hair. I wanted it to be Aurora-curly, Belle-brown, Ariel-long, and look as fantastic as Pocahontas' hair in the wind.
Amazing what her hair can do with a minimum amount of product.
I grew my hair long and the color turned out alright (Anne Shirley auburn, if you ask me). However, no matter how often I wished on a star, my hair never became curly. Guys, I eventually resorted to eating the crusts off my sandwiches!*
* Recent discussions have informed me that apparently not everyone grew up being told that eating bread crusts makes your hair curly. So here's your daily dose of folklore!
If I was Aurora, I would spend hours just whipping my hair to and fro. It's so BOUNCY!
After years of using lame hair products, curling irons, and one ridiculously bad perm, I accepted my fate. I have come to love my hair, and when I'm lucky, I even get to enjoy the occasional curly hair day.
Another important thing to know about my hair is that when little strands of it are exposed to rain, the beach, or a pool, I have a halo of Felicity-style curls. It's pretty much AWESOME.
See the itsy bitsy curls?
(Alright, alright, I'll start getting to the point!) So last week, after taking a jog in the rain and returning with a couple tendrils sticking out here in there, I got it in my head that maybe, under the proper conditions, the rest of my hair would just magically curl itself. I popped in the shower and helped myself to my younger sister's curly hair formula shampoo and conditioner. And you know what happened?
Absolutely nothing.
Mainly it just made my hair less shiny than usual, which made me kind of sad. Talk about a failed experiment! Now, for the analogy part of this post!
While I was trying to salvage my tired-looking locks, I came to the realization that I treat my writing a lot like I do my hair. I'm always wishing for it to be curly --- i.e., to be poetic and be perfect right off the bat. I'm constantly fighting any straight and/or wavy tendencies. I have to learn to see the beauty in the writing voice that I do have... and to appreciate the occasional curl that comes my way.
Anyone else fighting their natural voice, or their natural hair?
I just finished reading Jane Austen's Persuasion, and let's just say I'm a little overwhelmed... and making plans to reread every Austen novel ever. I'll tell you why!
When my dad convinced me to read Pride and Prejudice, I didn't really see much beyond the face value of the romance. And let's face it: P&P is an awesome romance. Lizzy and Darcy's love/hate relationship has inspired countless other love/hate love stories. (Plus, Darcy is pretty much one of the most attractive men in all of literature.) Meanwhile, my fourteen/fifteen year-old self had no appreciation for anything resembling "depth". It was a love story that made people think you were smart if you said you read it! What's not to like!?
Fast forward to eighteen year-old me closing her copy of Persuasion. I felt satisfied, and yet... This wasn't "bright, sparkling" P&P. I mean, I had giggled over Wentworth's swoonworthy declaration of love (give that man an AWARD), but still... Had I missed something? Wanting to read some more, I flipped to the front of the book to read the introduction essay.
Those who are attracted to Jane Austen because of nostalgia for the stability of class and clarity of old-fashioned values in picturesque English villages miss the most profound theme in her writing. Celebrated for simplicity, quaintness, and old-fashioned certainties, Austen in her last novel turns out to be complicated, thorny, and most of all, anxiously uncertain about the world developing around her. At times she appears to be talking herself into a "cheerful confidence in futurity." It is tempting to imagine where she would have taken this direction had she lived. But this novel was to be her final attempted act of (self-) persuasion.
Um, wow. That's a lot to swallow.
The extra bit of insight Susan Ostrov Weisser's essay provided had me analyzing every chapter, every character, everything. Furthermore, the essay called into question the Jane Austen stereotype: "sweetly old-fashioned, genially mild and reserved, spirited but primly spinsterish". The mysteries of Austen's character make her novels even more open to interpretation, if you ask me.
This comic makes me proud that Mansfield Park is my favorite one of her novels.
In short, I now want to reread all of her books and start asking some bigger questions. I'd highly encourage you to do the same!
Of course, this doesn't mean I'm going to stop enjoying period dramas from a nostalgic perspective. (see below)
Have you ever read a book and were surprised by the deeper meaning of its contents?
Upon my return from camp, my family decided to rewatch Schindler's List, which they had viewed while my sister and I were at camp. For the two of us, it was our first time watching the film.
For those of you who haven't seen the film or haven't heard of it, it's a Steven Spielberg movie dealing with the Holocaust in World War II. The plot is centered around a man named Schindler, who employs Jews in his factory in order to maximize profits. The movie is rated R, and with good reason. There is language, nudity, violence, the whole lot of it. Fortunately, nothing is done excessively or with the intention of exploiting the viewer's emotions. The vast majority of the movie is in black and white. The music is beautiful. The acting, the cinematic elements are all superb. In short, it was art.
I told my family after we finished the movie (it took us 3 nights, by the way, watching 1 hour per night) that my dream is to write something beautiful like that, that deals with the human experience and actually matters on some level. I'm not sure that I'm capable of writing The Book Thief, but that will always be my dream. Write something as well as Jane Austen, with the same sense of poetry and character as The Book Thief, and with the artistic nature and sensibility of Schindler's List.
Until then, I'm stuck writing really poor excerpts of a story that I can clearly envision but not seem to put down on paper;oij;MLSBPOIWULKJSDGPiouknlSDVpoaiwulkjasf!!! That was me banging on the keyboard, by the way.
I'm going to be at camp for the next week, and I won't be home most of the following week. You'll have to look elsewhere for your occasional literary and/or geeky fix.
I guess that means it's time to say goodbye, eh?
By the way, I am totally capable of making non-Doctor Who related references. For some reason they are simply the ones that first come to mind. Plus, the fandom makes the gifs and images so goshdarn accessible... You want something else!? *sigh* Fine.
If you really must know, I had the pleasure of seeing Ally, Marlene, and Athena from Charlie and Me over the weekend. As you can imagine, much silliness ensued. There may or may not have been light saber fights involved.
Anywho, Ally gave me a lovely idea! She told me she had gotten up early, made herself a cup of tea, and given herself some time to write. I decided to do the same. I gathered up my favorite Bl. Pier Giorgio Frassati mug, the ingredients for a perfect cup of Earl Grey, as well as Ally's graduation gift to me. (This is my cue to gush about how AWESOME my present is.)
Ally got me some "unblockers", or "inspiration dice for writers and storytellers" by Palimpsestic. According to the tag, "these dice feature words and phrases torn directly from a used and abused 1962 copy of Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen". Let me just tell you, these things are so cool. They're covered with all sorts of great, story-worthy words ("influence", "horrid man", "young ladies", "conjecture", "evening", etc.)! I tried rolling them all at once, then tried a single roll. I got the word "listen", and next thing I knew I was jotting down character and story ideas at light speed! If you want your own pair, go to http://palimpsestic.etsy.com. (No worries -- I didn't peek, Ally!)
Also, I found a webpage that said this at the top while searching for some background info for my writing.
Is there a novel in every person?
Are there stories that have never been told because they seemed unimportant?
What is the value of the lives of people who will never be famous or have their biographies written?
BIG QUESTIONS. Questions that maybe I'll answer some day.
So! Moral of the story: Writing in the morning is great, and it's even better with tea.
"Super-heated infusion of free-radicals and tannin, just the thing for healing the synapses..."
My sister and I are recovering from a bout of what we'll call seasonal confusion. See, we just spent three days at the beach, and it was COLD. Now I see why the place was practically deserted... Nobody goes to the beach in early June. The ocean is almost as cold as Steven Moffat's heart.
The man DRINKS our TEARS, people. He's cold.
Due to this aforementioned seasonal confusion, I found myself lacking the typical summer cravings (watermelon, strawberries, hamburgers, ice cream, etc.) So when we visited The Bookend Cafe, I did not order a summery drink. Oh no. I ordered an iced pumpkin spice latte. And let me tell you, it was delicious. Totally worth the caffeine headache.
This place was adorable. If you ever visit Delaware, I would highly encourage you to drop in. The combination of coffee, tea, and used books had me on Cloud Nine. The place is super cute and I would love to hang out there every morning, sipping a beverage while I write a best-seller. Unfortunately, I didn't end up purchasing a book, although a few volumes were highly tempting.(HIGHLY tempting. But with college coming, I'm minding my funds and hoarding my Barnes & Noble gift cards.)
Isn't this display *darling*!?
I did my best to read and write while I was at the beach. I got some in, but not as much as I had hoped. Lots of time was spent on the town and at church. The time I did get to myself, I found incredibly hard to write during. I really am stuck this time, guys. So stuck that I'm beginning to fear I'll never get unstuck. I'm Pooh Bear stuck. I'm throwing words at a wall and they aren't sticking. I'm desperate. I need an idea so badly I could cry. Oh bother!
Poor Pooh. :(
I just can't seem to find the story I want to tell. Believe me, I'm praying about it. When I find it, I'll be sure to let you know. Until then, I'll keep writing sweet nothings and wishing for rain (more specifically, brainstorm-induced rain, a.k.a. ideas).
Ladies n' gents, I just graduated on Friday. *cue the fanfare* So much has happened that would be of interest to you readers out there. For example, I won the Great Expectations Award at valediction. My English teacher gave the most amazing speech, wherein I was compared to Austen heroines and presented with so much Pride & Prejudice merchandise I nearly imploded with joy. There was another Darcy encounter (see here and here). It will probably be the last. (Maybe there will be other Austen hero encounters in the future?) We had to sit next to each other for extended periods of time, and I attempted conversation, and... Well, it went something like this conversation, minus the sexual tension. It was just full of AWKWARD.
I also failed epically at defending Matt Smiths' portrayal of the Doctor within the same time frame. Eleven, I am sorry... so sorry.
The night after my graduation, I had this moment with my mom:
Since then, I've been alright. Lots of partying, eating, dancing, running around, swimming, being generally crazy. Summer is lovely, and I had forgotten just how wonderful it is. I've been going on my daily walks and making plenty of fun plans, and I'm even leaving for the beach tomorrow! Doesn't that sound like fun!?
The beach is going to mean lots of writing time, as well as reading time, which I am looking forward to. I have no project to speak of. I intend to join my friend Ally over at Charlie and Me with her plans to having a Write Cleanse experience. Other than that, I'm winging it!
Please pardon my online absence; I've been veryvery busy and I had a lot to do, and I didn't have a minute to explain it all to you. I hope to have plenty of fresh, summery stories to share with you when I get back from vacation! Until then, enjoy the start of this magical season. Read at every chance you get. (In case you're wondering, I'm enjoying a borrowed copy of Percy Wynn: Or Making a Boy of Him.) My first summer recommendation for you all would have to be In the Kingdom of the Fairies: A Memoir of a Magical Summer and a Remarkable Friendship (find it here). My mother read it to my sisters and I when we were young and we devoured it.
I'll let you know when I'm back from vacation. There is a possibility of going to a used book/coffee/tea shop, so wish me luck!!!
So I'm just sitting here, watching The Princess and the Frog for probably the 30th time, singing to myself and shopping for graduation gifts for my best friend. I keep eating, even though I didn't get to go on my walk today, but I just love peanuts and peanut butter and food in general so much. (You would never believe it, but I was a picky eater two years ago.) I'm also sitting and waiting for Daniel Vincent Gordh to respond to my tweet.
No activity so far. I'll keep you all posted.
In this wonderful movie, there is this spiffy little ditty called "Dig a Little Deeper". And right in the beginning, Naveen is all: "What we want, what we need, it is the same thing, yes?" And Mama Odie is all: "Is it the same thing!? NO!"
Back to that song. Here it is if you haven't had the pleasure of watching TP&TF.
Besides the fact that this is totally in true in life (desire of the flesh vs. desire of the spirit), this rule totally applies to characters. Every character has something they want, and something they need. The best cases are the ones where they aren't the same thing. Some examples...
The Princess and the Frog: Naveen wants his rich lifestyle, Tiana wants her restaraunt, and they both want to turn human. What they need is love --- which they find in each other! Naveen also needs to become less spoiled, and Tiana needs to see the big picture.
Tangled: Flynn Rider wants a life of luxury. Rapunzel just wants to see the lights that she sees every year on her birthday. What they need is love (it is a Disney movie, after all)! I would also say that Flynn has to learn how to think about someone other than himself (love) and Rapunzel needs to learn how to be independent.
See? They've all got dreams! Desires! Wants! Needs!
Emma: Emma doesn't want to get married. She wants to play a role in other people's love lives and flatter herself. What she needs is a dose of humility... and to see that Knightley is destined to be her man!
"She's right, you know. I'm your man!"
Ella Enchanted: SPOILER ALERT! The ending is such a perfect example of want vs. need. Ella wants to marry Char more than anything, but she knows she needs to keep him (and the country) safe, so she says no. Which, of course, breaks the curse so that she can have what she wants too. ;)
"I was almost as bad in this terrible adaptation of a great book as I was in Daniel Deronda!"
Not every story will have such an explicit contrast between wants and needs. Still, your character MUST have a goal of their own, however small. They may even have multiple goals, or conflicting goals! Either way, every character is after something. (Unless you're Holden Caulfield and would rather wander aimlessly about New York. But I believe he's after love, too.)
What might your character(s) be after? How might different characters' desires and needs conflict with others' desires and needs? Here are some suggestions:
You may or may not remember this post, where I talked about an encounter with this guy who looks like Daniel Vincent Gordh (from "The Lizzie Bennet Diaries") and sort of acts like Darcy (although the question of Darcy-caliber-character remains unresolved).
I play good Darcy. Hehe.
Well, there was another encounter. It goes a little something like this...
So, I'm walking into my AP Exam, lookin' like a boss. I wore a dress and everything. Everyone else is wearing sweatpants and I'm all:
I'm gonna be one fly companion, ladies n' gents. I can't save the world unless I feel confident, and there is nothing like a dress to make me feel kick-butt. I'll probably have to pair it with sensible shoes, biker shorts, and wear 20 hair ties on my wrist, but I'll be ready to defeat evil across the galaxy.
ANYWAYS. I walk up to the door and said Darcy character is on the other side. He's just chilling with like 1 or 2 people, like usual. (*cough*BingleyandCaroline*cough*) So this is what I see in my brain:
And I walk in all like:
I'm heeeeeeeeeeeeere.
And he reaches over and pushes open the door. Not a full-out "I'm opening the door for you in a gentlemanly fashion", but it indicated knowledge of my existence and at least some degree of chivalry.
So after my exam, I go to Panera's with mah BFF and I'm all:
HE SORT OF HELD OPEN THE DOOR FOR ME!
Derp derp derp, we eat our food, I file it away in the cabinet titled "Monica Will Not Be Perpetually Single and Sometimes People Are Nice" folder.
Now, fast forward to my second AP Exam this morning.
This time, I wear sweatpants like everyone else cuz I overslept my alarm. First one there anyways. Guidance counselor shows up. She unlocks the door, I come inside, bunches of people arrive. Put my social skills of an agoraphobic lobster to work. Then, as I'm about to head back to the back room to stalk the other people, guidance counselor is all like:
"Can you hold open the door to let people in? Otherwise it stays locked."
Everyone deserts me, and I'm left standing there, waiting for the late kids, with the realization that the closest thing I've ever had to a Darcy moment was a fluke. He held the door because otherwise, me and the three people behind me wouldn't have been able to get in.
