It's almost Halloween and I can't wait for the candy. The big downside of not being able to trick or treat anymore (or steal from children's candy stashes) is that the variety of candy that I eat this holiday will be much lower than usual. A couple mini candy bars here and there, practically no weird candy that I pretend I don't like but eat anyway. I'm almost disappointed about it but I keep having to remind myself that I'll be able to bake anything I want, like pumpkin scones with maple glaze. Mmm guess I know what I'm doing this week!
I've been having a tiny meltdown that started this past weekend and peaked last night when I got home from the trip with my mom and asked my dad to push my resume at his company in the hopes that I might get a job there easily. I'm struggling in the same way that I was back in LA; I can't find an industry that suits me. My qualifications are few and I know I'm stuck in entry level positions for now, but even narrowing things down that much doesn't help me at all when it comes to choosing an industry to enter. I've worked in telecommunications and I think I have a good sense of what I don't want to do, which...also doesn't narrow things down much. Part of me wants to forego a career right now and work on learning programming languages and trying to succeed as a writer. A basic no-frills job with good benefits and little stress would be ideal for me to pull do for at least a couple months while I apply to a non-traditional programming course in NY, learn on my own, and write. I'd be able to save up and spend my mental energy outside of work rather than killing myself for a career I don't yet know I would want.
What's stressing me out the most (besides the fact that I do need a job and the income and stability it would provide) is completely conflicting advice that I get from the important people in my life. It's not particularly useful to be told over and over, "You could be doing something so much more with your life." Okay. Couldn't everyone? I feel like I know what I want but there's still that risk that I face, say, with writing. I could spend the next five decades trying to write and perfecting my craft, but never find success doing that. At what point do I either give up or relegate it to a hobby rather than a pursuit? At the same time, jobs come and go and I could build a career, giving everything (time, energy, more time) I have to that, then have it pulled out from underneath me.
There are no guarantees in life. So what do I do with it?
Come on, life, tell me what I should do.
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
28 October 2013
22 October 2013
Science Fiction
I've been starting to look into NaNoWriMo for November and I'd really like to write a science fiction story, but can't seem to come up with any good ideas. I stumbled across this flowchart with fantasy/sci fi book suggestions and I'm looking forward to going to the library now!
30 September 2013
Bliss
I've been baking for a couple years now, not really seriously, but enough that I've invested in a ton of equipment: dedicated pans, a cookie dough scoop, two flour sifters, several ramekins, a massive bag of active dry yeast. I bake often enough and have such a small sweet tooth that I find fault in every recipe that I make. Cookies are always too dry, too crumbly, too soft, too hard, too floury, too sweet. Cakes taste off, frosting gets overly sweet, icing doesn't set....the list goes on. I'm my own harshest critic, and I rarely stumble upon recipes that seem worthy enough to add to my personal recipe box.
But today I came across a fudgy brownie recipe that baked up so wonderful that I have to reconsider my life. I always thought I preferred cakey brownies, so the recipes I would make usually ended up having three or four eggs, lots of flour, and a small amount of butter or oil. But I gambled and this recipe paid off.
This isn't a baking blog, so I won't get in depth about the experience, but producing such an excellent product is invigorating, and I feel suddenly supremely confident about my baking abilities (my last batch of cookies had a bad brown-granulated sugar ratio and turned out too dry and crumbly). If one recipe can turn out this good, think of what else is out there just waiting to be made!
Now if only I can replicate this kind of success in my writing...
But today I came across a fudgy brownie recipe that baked up so wonderful that I have to reconsider my life. I always thought I preferred cakey brownies, so the recipes I would make usually ended up having three or four eggs, lots of flour, and a small amount of butter or oil. But I gambled and this recipe paid off.
This isn't a baking blog, so I won't get in depth about the experience, but producing such an excellent product is invigorating, and I feel suddenly supremely confident about my baking abilities (my last batch of cookies had a bad brown-granulated sugar ratio and turned out too dry and crumbly). If one recipe can turn out this good, think of what else is out there just waiting to be made!
Now if only I can replicate this kind of success in my writing...
26 September 2013
Worrying
I inherited a terrible habit from my father: worry.
As a child I felt anxious about a lot of things: whether or not I was as smart as I thought myself to be, whether I would pass my classes or ace a test, whether I would ever gather the courage to talk to the cute guy in my English class, what I wanted to study in college and where I wanted to go, whether I would figure out my life before it started, and whether I'm doing things wrong.
I would also worry about things that were outside my control like: what if the other third-graders make fun of my clothes? what will happen in the Middle East (I was a strange middle-schooler)? what if my parents aren't happy ever again? what if my siblings aren't successful in life?
I still worry constantly. What if the job I'm currently in is where I still am in six years? What if I get married young and then regret it? What if I get pregnant and don't want the child? What if I end up living in a terrible neighborhood? What if I change jobs and the new job is worse that the old one? What if I'll never become a writer because I'm just not good enough?
I also still worry about things outside my control. What if my young cousins forget who I am or we grow apart and I don't see them often enough to soothe my guilty conscience? What if I try to become friends with my parents and for one reason or another it doesn't help our relationship? What if I do this move across country and it turns out to have been the wrong decision.
There's the fear of making mistakes, and then there's the fear of others making mistakes.
I had a conversation this evening with my roommate about worry and our relationships to others when we are trying to give them advice or guide them or teach them from our mistakes. She does it with her teenage sisters, hoping to keep them from making the same mistakes that she did as a young adult. I reminded her that the best thing she can do for them is to be a role model to them, not offer unsolicited advice except in the most non-judgmental way, and to listen listen listen to them, treat them like equals and not children, and allow them to come to you with their mistakes, their concerns, and their problems so that they can feel that there is a non-parent in their life who cares about them enough to want to see them succeed.
Of course, I finished telling her my feelings on things, and I immediately wondered what the hell I'm doing with my brother. He's becoming independent and finding his way in life and here I am in the same boat as my parents and aunt feeling like I need to do all I can to guide him and ensure that he doesn't sink. It's the worry that I feel, and I wouldn't say that it's misplace, but it's misguided. Yes, I should worry about him as much as I worry about everyone else, but no, I can't change the course of his life just by giving him unsolicited advice that encourages him to do things the way I did (or wish I did). He will need to learn on his own how he wants to live his life and if he makes mistakes on the way, better to learn now than later. By worrying and guiding and helping for the past two years (the guiding didn't affect much), all I've done is ensure that I will be more worried that I was in the first place because now I feel like my interference was a key to his success, when really all it may have done was hinder it. At least hinder independence.
I'm probably rambling, I don't even have my contacts in. But this is something that has been bothering me for a while--I spent so much energy worrying about other people that I would displace well-founded worry about my own life and situation.
As a child I felt anxious about a lot of things: whether or not I was as smart as I thought myself to be, whether I would pass my classes or ace a test, whether I would ever gather the courage to talk to the cute guy in my English class, what I wanted to study in college and where I wanted to go, whether I would figure out my life before it started, and whether I'm doing things wrong.
I would also worry about things that were outside my control like: what if the other third-graders make fun of my clothes? what will happen in the Middle East (I was a strange middle-schooler)? what if my parents aren't happy ever again? what if my siblings aren't successful in life?
I still worry constantly. What if the job I'm currently in is where I still am in six years? What if I get married young and then regret it? What if I get pregnant and don't want the child? What if I end up living in a terrible neighborhood? What if I change jobs and the new job is worse that the old one? What if I'll never become a writer because I'm just not good enough?
I also still worry about things outside my control. What if my young cousins forget who I am or we grow apart and I don't see them often enough to soothe my guilty conscience? What if I try to become friends with my parents and for one reason or another it doesn't help our relationship? What if I do this move across country and it turns out to have been the wrong decision.
There's the fear of making mistakes, and then there's the fear of others making mistakes.
I had a conversation this evening with my roommate about worry and our relationships to others when we are trying to give them advice or guide them or teach them from our mistakes. She does it with her teenage sisters, hoping to keep them from making the same mistakes that she did as a young adult. I reminded her that the best thing she can do for them is to be a role model to them, not offer unsolicited advice except in the most non-judgmental way, and to listen listen listen to them, treat them like equals and not children, and allow them to come to you with their mistakes, their concerns, and their problems so that they can feel that there is a non-parent in their life who cares about them enough to want to see them succeed.
Of course, I finished telling her my feelings on things, and I immediately wondered what the hell I'm doing with my brother. He's becoming independent and finding his way in life and here I am in the same boat as my parents and aunt feeling like I need to do all I can to guide him and ensure that he doesn't sink. It's the worry that I feel, and I wouldn't say that it's misplace, but it's misguided. Yes, I should worry about him as much as I worry about everyone else, but no, I can't change the course of his life just by giving him unsolicited advice that encourages him to do things the way I did (or wish I did). He will need to learn on his own how he wants to live his life and if he makes mistakes on the way, better to learn now than later. By worrying and guiding and helping for the past two years (the guiding didn't affect much), all I've done is ensure that I will be more worried that I was in the first place because now I feel like my interference was a key to his success, when really all it may have done was hinder it. At least hinder independence.
I'm probably rambling, I don't even have my contacts in. But this is something that has been bothering me for a while--I spent so much energy worrying about other people that I would displace well-founded worry about my own life and situation.
19 September 2013
Perfectionism
The other day I read a very excellent article on how to overcome perfectionism in your creative pursuits; the key is to learn to accept less than perfect results. Sounds pretty easy. I'll be focusing on writing simply because that is what I like and understand.
I'm a fan of the suggestions, that is, giving yourself a handicap (extreme time constraints, unusual criteria, or a more tangible handicap) when producing your work, which will help you to appreciate what you produce under these circumstances.
This reminds me of National Novel Writing Month* (NaNo) which encourages the goal of producing a 50,000 word novel in only 30 days. I've participated for the past three years, mostly willingly, though it's slowly becoming more of a ritual. For most people, it's a large goal set within a small time constraint, and one of the most commonly heard suggestions to reach your goal is to write without editing, which is something that lots of people find very difficult.
It can be hard to see yourself as a writer of a specific caliber and then for 30 days produce work that feels so far below your usual standard that your first inclination upon finishing a sentence, a paragraph, or a chapter is to throw the whole thing away and never do it again.
It's the same as the feeling that I get when I try out a recipe I'm really excited about (like double chocolate m&m cookies) and enjoy everything about the process, then get to the very end, pull the cookies out and they're nothing like what I was expecting. They're misshapen and crumbly, not at all like the gooey, chewy, shiny cookies in the picture on the recipe. They don't even live up to the taste expectation, and I find that I can't eat more than half due to extreme disappointment. I end up leaving them in the kitchen for my roommates or taking them into work (if they're not embarrassingly bad).
Same with writing, but as there's less need to share, it's much easier to hide away writing that you hate and ensure it never sees the light of day. I have three half-written first-draft NaNovels on my hard drive, and only four people have seen them because I'm so embarrassed by the hastily constructed metaphors, overly flowery description (hey, I was trying to hit my daily word counts and needed to come up with something), meandering plots, and weak characters.
But...
But the goal of NaNo is to get you, as a writer, to finish your goddamned project. That's the first step. Finish a first draft, take a break, then rework your plot, rework your characters, rework your story, and write the second draft. Not everyone does things this way, but it allows you a second chance to tackle that imperfect draft you tossed aside at the end of November.
Maybe that's the way to quell that terrible perfectionism: constant improvement.
*National Novel Writing Month takes place in November, and more information can be found here. I highly recommend the challenge--you might go insane, but it's a ton of fun.
I'm a fan of the suggestions, that is, giving yourself a handicap (extreme time constraints, unusual criteria, or a more tangible handicap) when producing your work, which will help you to appreciate what you produce under these circumstances.
You want to hold yourself to much lower standards in order to push yourself to actually follow through with your creative endeavors. It doesn't matter if it's bad, nobody (including yourself) is expecting perfection from you under these circumstances. - Mark Mahoney
This reminds me of National Novel Writing Month* (NaNo) which encourages the goal of producing a 50,000 word novel in only 30 days. I've participated for the past three years, mostly willingly, though it's slowly becoming more of a ritual. For most people, it's a large goal set within a small time constraint, and one of the most commonly heard suggestions to reach your goal is to write without editing, which is something that lots of people find very difficult.
It can be hard to see yourself as a writer of a specific caliber and then for 30 days produce work that feels so far below your usual standard that your first inclination upon finishing a sentence, a paragraph, or a chapter is to throw the whole thing away and never do it again.
It's the same as the feeling that I get when I try out a recipe I'm really excited about (like double chocolate m&m cookies) and enjoy everything about the process, then get to the very end, pull the cookies out and they're nothing like what I was expecting. They're misshapen and crumbly, not at all like the gooey, chewy, shiny cookies in the picture on the recipe. They don't even live up to the taste expectation, and I find that I can't eat more than half due to extreme disappointment. I end up leaving them in the kitchen for my roommates or taking them into work (if they're not embarrassingly bad).
Same with writing, but as there's less need to share, it's much easier to hide away writing that you hate and ensure it never sees the light of day. I have three half-written first-draft NaNovels on my hard drive, and only four people have seen them because I'm so embarrassed by the hastily constructed metaphors, overly flowery description (hey, I was trying to hit my daily word counts and needed to come up with something), meandering plots, and weak characters.
But...
But the goal of NaNo is to get you, as a writer, to finish your goddamned project. That's the first step. Finish a first draft, take a break, then rework your plot, rework your characters, rework your story, and write the second draft. Not everyone does things this way, but it allows you a second chance to tackle that imperfect draft you tossed aside at the end of November.
Maybe that's the way to quell that terrible perfectionism: constant improvement.
*National Novel Writing Month takes place in November, and more information can be found here. I highly recommend the challenge--you might go insane, but it's a ton of fun.
04 September 2013
Adding yet another potentially unhealthy habit
If I decide I want to fix a habit, there are numerous places I can start. I can stop biting my fingernails, thus depriving myself of germs and satisfaction that my brain so desperately craves. I can stop procrastinating, reading useless articles on the internet and taking inane quizzes about whether I am truly an introvert or have an anxiety disorder (do I??). I can stop using internet speak when I talk to specific friends, which just looks strange amid manicured and correctly capitalized and punctuated sentences.
HOWEVER
It is paramount that rather than dwelling on the negative in my life, I begin introducing positive. Those same evenings that I lurk on Reddit or skim internet forums, in the back of my mind I know that I ought to be writing. Three years ago I told myself that I would start writing a novel a quarter, or a short story a month, or a flash fiction piece a week, or even a couple sentences a day. For three years, I failed to convince myself to follow through, and all I have to show for it now are a couple unfinished (and restarted) novels, portions of short stories, multiple scenes without context, and a number of languishing story ideas that cry in the corners of my Google Drive and look up expectantly when I open my idea file and throw another half-baked on in there to waste away with the rest.
For the next month (that is, 30 days) intend to start fresh, and commit to writing 10 minutes of fiction a day. That's every day, including weekends. I've had the hardest time committing myself to a routine habit, even one as mundane as writing daily. I'll spend weekend days lounging around in bed, watching five movies, going out to eat, and half-heartedly attending parties. But there's no excuse--10 minutes a day is nothing. I probably spend that much time preparing for bed (on the days I don't pass out in my clothes).
So that's it. Write fiction for 10 minutes a day. Let's see if I can do it.
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