So Tired. Very, very tired (floating--light--sleepy smile). I've just survived two of the longest days of the year. . .semester. . .life.
Yesterday I was busy doing all the crazy assignments that I had to turn into day. Then I had Bible study, where it was just Sarah and Maggie (the two leaders) and me, so we got distracted from the book of Hosea and instead tried to work through the passage that says it's wrong for women to have short hair. If anybody has any answers on that one, feel free to enlighten me. Then I went to see "300." Basically it's blood, violence, violence, violence, sex, and storytelling--in other words your typical greek epic.
So last night I got around five hours sleep.
My first class this morning was my Spanish class, where we had a huge test.
Then came fiction, where I had to stay awake and participate.
Then Journey of the Hero, where I had to stay awake, and turn in my 14 page paper on Gilgamesh.
Then Write About Literature, where I had to stay awake and turn in a 20 page reading journal
Then Cross Cultural Journalism, where I had another midterm.
And now I'm back in my room, trying to stay awake long enough to have dinner.
Then I will hopefully go sleep, study psych (for another test tomorrow), watch LOST, etc.
Tomorrow's going to be crazy too.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Thursday, March 15, 2007
The Dangers of Editing
Peer Editing is bad for me. So is writing in books.
Point Number One.
This semester I'm in an introduction to creative writing class. So for every class we're supposed to read one of our classmate's stories and write a 200 word or more critique by the next class (and trust me, that gets old after a while). But the reason I bring this up is that now my automatic mode is to grab a pencil and start marking up someone's work.
Point Number Two.
Some teachers have finally forced me to admit the necessity of writing in books. I've spent the first nineteen years of my life avidly resisting this intrusion. When asked why, the best I can do is fumble for an answer that consists of "Well, I've always shared books with my siblings, or checked them out from the library, so writing in them wasn't really in option." While this is mostly true, I've been reflecting on it and realized that there was a bigger reason. I think of books primarily for enjoyment. And if a whole bunch of notes are scattered all over the page, you can't let yourself fall into the secondary world; you are always being pulled back and forced to analyze the passage before you can even really read it. If a book is worth reading, I liked to pass it on to someone else and let them enjoy it as well. They can't do that if notes are written all over the page and passages are underlined for no apparent reason. Why did they underline that passage about the circus? Or so-and-so's hair? Maybe this is only a problem for OCD people like myself, who must read every word of every sign, cereal box, and posted flyer. But one of my good friends brought this up too, so I don't really think so.
Result.
There are reasons why crazed OCD editors are not let loose on the unsuspecting world. Now that I have overcome my law about not writing in schoolbooks, at least (in pencil, mind you), and now that I have been consistently reviewing and critiquing people's work, I can't get myself to stop. I was reading a fiction book last night, and while I liked the plot idea, silly though it was, my overwhelming desire was to take a pencil and write notes of correction all over the pages. Change this sentence, please please please show don't tell, is this your character's view, or your own, check historical accuracy, lame sentence, etc.
This new editorial furor is not limited to books. I find errors on websites, handouts, everywhere. Unfortunately, there are a few problems and limitations. It has not helped me look at my own work objectively. I see what I think I wrote, and often not what is actually there. Second, it is not a consistent gift. I suppose that’s what happens when you have a dyslexic, spelling-disabled fantasy reader turned journalist to deal with. So in the end I’m left in my lovely castle of words until a jarring error sends me spiraling down to earth. Just make sure yours isn’t the one in a hundred error I’ll catch. :)
P.S. I have no clue why they make “dyslexic” such an impossible word for dyslexics to spell. It’s cruel.
Point Number One.
This semester I'm in an introduction to creative writing class. So for every class we're supposed to read one of our classmate's stories and write a 200 word or more critique by the next class (and trust me, that gets old after a while). But the reason I bring this up is that now my automatic mode is to grab a pencil and start marking up someone's work.
Point Number Two.
Some teachers have finally forced me to admit the necessity of writing in books. I've spent the first nineteen years of my life avidly resisting this intrusion. When asked why, the best I can do is fumble for an answer that consists of "Well, I've always shared books with my siblings, or checked them out from the library, so writing in them wasn't really in option." While this is mostly true, I've been reflecting on it and realized that there was a bigger reason. I think of books primarily for enjoyment. And if a whole bunch of notes are scattered all over the page, you can't let yourself fall into the secondary world; you are always being pulled back and forced to analyze the passage before you can even really read it. If a book is worth reading, I liked to pass it on to someone else and let them enjoy it as well. They can't do that if notes are written all over the page and passages are underlined for no apparent reason. Why did they underline that passage about the circus? Or so-and-so's hair? Maybe this is only a problem for OCD people like myself, who must read every word of every sign, cereal box, and posted flyer. But one of my good friends brought this up too, so I don't really think so.
Result.
There are reasons why crazed OCD editors are not let loose on the unsuspecting world. Now that I have overcome my law about not writing in schoolbooks, at least (in pencil, mind you), and now that I have been consistently reviewing and critiquing people's work, I can't get myself to stop. I was reading a fiction book last night, and while I liked the plot idea, silly though it was, my overwhelming desire was to take a pencil and write notes of correction all over the pages. Change this sentence, please please please show don't tell, is this your character's view, or your own, check historical accuracy, lame sentence, etc.
This new editorial furor is not limited to books. I find errors on websites, handouts, everywhere. Unfortunately, there are a few problems and limitations. It has not helped me look at my own work objectively. I see what I think I wrote, and often not what is actually there. Second, it is not a consistent gift. I suppose that’s what happens when you have a dyslexic, spelling-disabled fantasy reader turned journalist to deal with. So in the end I’m left in my lovely castle of words until a jarring error sends me spiraling down to earth. Just make sure yours isn’t the one in a hundred error I’ll catch. :)
P.S. I have no clue why they make “dyslexic” such an impossible word for dyslexics to spell. It’s cruel.
Friday, March 09, 2007
The Short Version
Life is crazy, hectic, awesome, depressing, and busy busy busy. I'm overwhelmed enough already without the black cloud of you-haven't-updated-your-blog worries. So instead of giving a play by play of the last few weeks, I'm merely going to give you the short version.
My Life Recently Consists of:
the woman in white, ruf retreat, parking tickets, reading journals, gilgamesh, long papers, fiction writing [for class], carrying an insanely heavy backpack through the rain, anne of green gables, the theban plays, corpus callosum, psychology notes, cross cultural journalism, freaking out about next semester, getting new tennis shoes muddy, babysitting, spanish subjective tense, peer-edits, being accepted into the magazine sequence, mr. knightley, supernatural, lost, battlestar galactica, s'mores, planning for summer, advil, lots of driving, decisions, dragons, naps, noise, tests, weird short stories, good friends, freecell, and schoolwork, schoolwork, schoolwork.
My Life Recently Consists of:
the woman in white, ruf retreat, parking tickets, reading journals, gilgamesh, long papers, fiction writing [for class], carrying an insanely heavy backpack through the rain, anne of green gables, the theban plays, corpus callosum, psychology notes, cross cultural journalism, freaking out about next semester, getting new tennis shoes muddy, babysitting, spanish subjective tense, peer-edits, being accepted into the magazine sequence, mr. knightley, supernatural, lost, battlestar galactica, s'mores, planning for summer, advil, lots of driving, decisions, dragons, naps, noise, tests, weird short stories, good friends, freecell, and schoolwork, schoolwork, schoolwork.
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