“…Listen closely to my words. Do not let them out of your sight, keep them within your heart; for they are life to those who find them and health to a whole man’s body.”
-Proverbs 4:20-22
I’m about to attempt another hurdle, whether I’m ready or not:
Reading.
My work.
Out loud.
As a general rule, a person can read my work, and we can discuss said work, no problem. In this way, I’ve come far. However, I can get reeeally hyper conniption-y at the thought of standing in front of that classroom with nothing but my wits (which will doubtlessly fly away in my distress), my charm (which I have none of), and my brilliant, moving story (which it isn’t).
Not being modest here, it really isn’t the best work I’ve ever done. It’s one of my most roughest-first rough drafts that’s been written, and I’M NOT ALLOWED TO REVISE IT!
Deep breaths. You're scaring me.
It’s not nearly as terrible knowing exactly what my listeners will be thinking as it is imagining what they’re thinking. That’s where fear settles in.
It can be hazardous, being a slave to the imagination. Sometimes it takes you places you reeeally don’t want to go.
Don’t worry, it’ll be fine (I’m pretending all of my fans out there are worrying about this). I have an excellent plan as to how I can wittily convey to my audience that I know it’s an
incomplete story:
Me (standing in front of class and speaking with an unnaturally high-pitched voice): Alright. I know this is an extremely rough rough-draft. I had to stop myself from revising it after I made it, so here we go!
Or perhaps: If you think this short story is sort of confusing, that’s okay. It is confusing. It’s just a rough-draft, people! Please don’t judge me!!!
Or maybe: Well, this story is definitely unfinished. It has a few holes in it, which is perfect, since, well, you’re all supposed to be catching my mistakes, and this will give you plenty to do!
Or-
Me (hiding under a pile of leaves): Phew, I’m glad I decided to skip class today. I think I’ll live out here forever and provide a more biodiverse soil for all the producers and decomposers in our yard.
That last one’s quite tempting. Besides, we could always use a little more decaying material to promote a healthier planet.
Right?
Um. No.
Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure it would take (does a quick calculation), a REALLY long time before any progress was actually made.
Besides, I can’t skip class! That would be cowardly to the deepest, darkest degree of worthless-skin-ness.
These things get easier the more you do them, right?
Right.
Right.
My real plan is to pick a book to read that has some sort of bold, indifferent character, who finds joy in expressing him or herself, and doesn’t know the word, “self-conscious.”
I can be extremely affected by the sorts of books I read. It can ever-so-subtly shift my mood and my writing style, the same way listening to different kinds of music will make you dance in different ways.
(Unless you’re me, and you have only about half a dance move hidden up your dancing repertoire sleeve, but anyway.)
For instance, when I read Mitchell’s Gone With The Wind, last January, I became a sour and moody Scarlett, and my POV distance zoomed in several feet. When I read Paterson’s Jacob Have I Loved, I found myself unwittingly writing in first-person, and I personally took more flights of fancy than what was considered typical. Snicket makes me edgy, and my writing style hardens up like a brick. Don’t even get me started on Thomas Wolff. Lee’s To Kill A Mockingbird, as I’ve already mentioned, reignites my fascination with father-daughter relationships. I also start hemming and hawing and speaking with Atticus’ dry humor.
Scary, right? As you could imagine, I’m never in a worse mood than when I’m reading a book filled with meaningless characters.
Currently, I’m reading The Life and Adventures of Nicholas Nickleby, for the first time. The effect on my writing itself is a little too soon to tell, but I have caught myself using Mr. Dickens’ ironic and sardonic way of speaking, with full sentences, disdainfully honest statements, and an unconsciously superior tone.
What all this means exactly, I’m not sure. I do know that it can both come in handy and get in the way in equal degrees.
All writers should let the world around them seep into their writing. It will amaze you what you end up creating.
For instance, my twin and I (perhaps unwisely), chose to stay up until midnight-and-a-half watching The Enterprise on the television, instead of doing…well…whatever it is normal people do at midnight-and-a-half.
Sleeping, I should imagine. There is a rumor.
Next thing I know, I’m quite literally throwing my book characters up into space!
I mean, really.
Now I have this science fiction short story, which I have to read.
Out loud.
To a classroom full of students who are doubtlessly far more experienced and competent when it comes to anything Trek-y, or alien-y, or anything-that-involves-something-science-fiction-ish-that-one-might-watch-on-the-television-at-midnight-and-a-half.
And to cap it all, guess who got picked to go first?
(I was!)
Also, happy NaNoWriMo! It's just around the corner! If you haven't tried it before, join me in experiencing this for the first time! That's enough exclamation marks for now, I think!
When it comes to speaking in front of a class, I actually find that going first is better than any other position. The reason behind this is because when you go first, you're setting the bar. There aren't any other stories you need to try to compete with, and you get to set the standard for what others should try to meet or beat instead of the other way around. Normally I'd try NaNoRiMo, but I don't think i have enough time for what I'd need to do for it (or the story concept to flesh out). But I wish you luck in your endeavors on it! :D If you ever get the chance to meet my mom, you should ask her…