Dragon vs. Rabbit
Started to do the year meme, stopped. Started to do the fic meme, stopped.
As I have grown older it's strange to look back on things you once thought you knew 100% in full. For instance the definition of a word; it's use; it's leverage in a sentence, maybe even some general application to a moment in your life. The thing is there is a whole other 1000% that isn't seen until you get there and are like "oh, well that's what they meant". In that moment you're completely sure that whoever wrote this saying, or that adage sat somewhere and thought the same thought as you because what was said was so fitting and so correct in every sense--it must be the same. This isn't always true. The phrase "write what you know" is a perfect example; it's highly misinterpreted to mean, in my opinion, you can only write about everest if you've climbed it. This is a conclusion borne on the backs of normal suburban kids picking up a writing book in the library and thinking "oh what will I write about." But most people, self-aware or no, do have things to write about and things they know about. People know about lies, deceit, jealousy, rage and the full spectrum of human emotions all the key components to the stone-soup base of story. How you present these emotions, how you build the house upon this foundation makes the story good or bad, readable or not.
I was lucky in that while many young girls pondered love, I pondered it only in the context of regret. Thus memory and regret tend to be the brick and mortar of what I write. One of these sayings that circulated through my head as a child was "To live a life free from regret" and in all the stories this meant doing what you want, not hanging back or second guessing yourself and this is the meaning I've always associated with this saying until very recently. There is credence to the "go and get'em" theory, being a wallflower will give you perks but never what you want (the difference between SPAM and the whole hog). At the same time this phrase lacks the flip-side of consequence, the rubber bang snap back when you pull too hard, and that emotion when you go balls out make a mistake and someone gets hurt is also regret.
No, in all honesty these 7 words speak to something else entirely. Being a Sci-Fi fan I was introduced to the idea of the parallel universe early on and I would often cultivate fantasies about the "if"'s and "maybe"'s; if I had said "yes" to dating John so-and-so, gone to this other high school, if maybe somewhere else Taj had been accepted to Prestigious College #1 and she was off being happy, and what would she be like? Perfect, beautiful, quirky, less liberal...the wonder of the parallel universe means that that insect you squashed as a child could have manifold consequences, however we are quick to compare ourselves to the best scenarios and the paired contrasting failures we see in ourselves. Only recently I stopped doing this, and it's because I realized it doesn't matter. Maybe somewhere else these things have, are, and will take place but I can only concentrate on the here and now and there is no point longing for or regretting the billions of other lives I could have lead because this place is where all the decisions this version of myself has led me. I can only work with the time that is given to me (to quote a very wise Wizard).
If you had asked me 5 years ago whether I thought I had writing "talent" my response would probably have been something like a tentative "yes", 3 years ago I would have said 10% talent and 90% effort, now I'd probably say 99.9% effort and that talent is a muddy water to define. I don't talk about muses, bunnies, or inspiration not because I look down on these terms but mostly because I don't really believe in them. I believe in work, critique, and learning from a wide-variety of sources. Today a family friend who has seen me grow up all my life asked me about my writing, and what he meant by that was a scattering of short original stories I showed my parents about four years ago and that they had passed around. I paused when he asked me, thinking of the story I recently turned in for bitter_nakano and said "Don't worry I'm practicing." I cringe when I think of those original fics. They are preachy, immature, over-worded but I get asked about them from time to time even if it's just as a conversation starter.
The story I wrote for bitter_nakano isn't very good. Let me just put that out there. It's long and drawn out but ultimately didn't jell well. It felt dry for lack of a better word, just some overly maudlin fluff, badly pieced from figments of personal memory and other books. I wrote recently how writing can be like snakes shedding their skin; there's that bad point where it's really bulky and gross and you're not sure if it will ever be the silky beautiful thing it once was, and why did you have to grow at all. In fact you're not even sure if you're growing, maybe the skin just came off because you're dimishing. Maybe you should just give up the ghost and hide yourself away, deep underground where no one will see your ugliness and insufficiency.
This is the best metaphor I can come up with for how I feel about 2011. I feel thin, used-up, and defeatist but at the same time at the low point to something far greater knowing that I am almost to the cusp and then tipping, tipping over into a year of maturation and joy.
Music for 2012: YEAR OF THE DRAGON
As I have grown older it's strange to look back on things you once thought you knew 100% in full. For instance the definition of a word; it's use; it's leverage in a sentence, maybe even some general application to a moment in your life. The thing is there is a whole other 1000% that isn't seen until you get there and are like "oh, well that's what they meant". In that moment you're completely sure that whoever wrote this saying, or that adage sat somewhere and thought the same thought as you because what was said was so fitting and so correct in every sense--it must be the same. This isn't always true. The phrase "write what you know" is a perfect example; it's highly misinterpreted to mean, in my opinion, you can only write about everest if you've climbed it. This is a conclusion borne on the backs of normal suburban kids picking up a writing book in the library and thinking "oh what will I write about." But most people, self-aware or no, do have things to write about and things they know about. People know about lies, deceit, jealousy, rage and the full spectrum of human emotions all the key components to the stone-soup base of story. How you present these emotions, how you build the house upon this foundation makes the story good or bad, readable or not.
I was lucky in that while many young girls pondered love, I pondered it only in the context of regret. Thus memory and regret tend to be the brick and mortar of what I write. One of these sayings that circulated through my head as a child was "To live a life free from regret" and in all the stories this meant doing what you want, not hanging back or second guessing yourself and this is the meaning I've always associated with this saying until very recently. There is credence to the "go and get'em" theory, being a wallflower will give you perks but never what you want (the difference between SPAM and the whole hog). At the same time this phrase lacks the flip-side of consequence, the rubber bang snap back when you pull too hard, and that emotion when you go balls out make a mistake and someone gets hurt is also regret.
No, in all honesty these 7 words speak to something else entirely. Being a Sci-Fi fan I was introduced to the idea of the parallel universe early on and I would often cultivate fantasies about the "if"'s and "maybe"'s; if I had said "yes" to dating John so-and-so, gone to this other high school, if maybe somewhere else Taj had been accepted to Prestigious College #1 and she was off being happy, and what would she be like? Perfect, beautiful, quirky, less liberal...the wonder of the parallel universe means that that insect you squashed as a child could have manifold consequences, however we are quick to compare ourselves to the best scenarios and the paired contrasting failures we see in ourselves. Only recently I stopped doing this, and it's because I realized it doesn't matter. Maybe somewhere else these things have, are, and will take place but I can only concentrate on the here and now and there is no point longing for or regretting the billions of other lives I could have lead because this place is where all the decisions this version of myself has led me. I can only work with the time that is given to me (to quote a very wise Wizard).
If you had asked me 5 years ago whether I thought I had writing "talent" my response would probably have been something like a tentative "yes", 3 years ago I would have said 10% talent and 90% effort, now I'd probably say 99.9% effort and that talent is a muddy water to define. I don't talk about muses, bunnies, or inspiration not because I look down on these terms but mostly because I don't really believe in them. I believe in work, critique, and learning from a wide-variety of sources. Today a family friend who has seen me grow up all my life asked me about my writing, and what he meant by that was a scattering of short original stories I showed my parents about four years ago and that they had passed around. I paused when he asked me, thinking of the story I recently turned in for bitter_nakano and said "Don't worry I'm practicing." I cringe when I think of those original fics. They are preachy, immature, over-worded but I get asked about them from time to time even if it's just as a conversation starter.
The story I wrote for bitter_nakano isn't very good. Let me just put that out there. It's long and drawn out but ultimately didn't jell well. It felt dry for lack of a better word, just some overly maudlin fluff, badly pieced from figments of personal memory and other books. I wrote recently how writing can be like snakes shedding their skin; there's that bad point where it's really bulky and gross and you're not sure if it will ever be the silky beautiful thing it once was, and why did you have to grow at all. In fact you're not even sure if you're growing, maybe the skin just came off because you're dimishing. Maybe you should just give up the ghost and hide yourself away, deep underground where no one will see your ugliness and insufficiency.
This is the best metaphor I can come up with for how I feel about 2011. I feel thin, used-up, and defeatist but at the same time at the low point to something far greater knowing that I am almost to the cusp and then tipping, tipping over into a year of maturation and joy.
Music for 2012: YEAR OF THE DRAGON
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