Fate, Dedication, and a Hint of Luck

This entire school year has played out in ways that I couldn't even imagine (and I came up with a lot of scenarios), or even would have thought was possible, yet here I sit. Ranging from school, to family, to friends, to my love life, and everything in between, life proved to me that you can have a life like a story you once read, or wish to write. Don't be mistaken, my life has definitely not become some fairy tale, however, I try to focus more on the real-life magic that I've been granted rather than the harsh reality that cannot be changed.

When it comes to school, I must admit this wasn't my best year; fifth grade will probably always be the winner for that, I kid you not. Math and science have always been the weights pulling me down in the ocean that is school, making it hard to keep my head afloat with the rest. You know what though? I have continued kicking my legs, pushing against the current with my arms, and staying above the water so I can breathe. For me surviving was only the half of it. And without a second to think about it, I'll confess I could have done better, but I'm trying to learn from it all. My favorite class though, AP Lang (the reason for this blog altogether), I have done well in and that alone makes this entire year worth it. I have learned more than I could have ever hoped for, and I know for a fact that these lessons will stay in my mind and I will only continue to learn and grow with them. I will be forever grateful that I had the opportunity to be in that class with a teacher who was constantly pushing for more, and of course the amazing, hilarious support from my classmates. By the end of the year, as yearbooks are passed around the classroom, I would like to think we have become our own little, dysfunctional family.
Note: I love the girls around me so much, I'm lucky to have gotten to know them this year, I hope we continue to be friends for a very long time and do all the things we planned.

A lot of family hardships had hit me this year, mainly the second semester. I may be a girl who can type a thousand words without even a mere thought, but I will become the quietest soul you have ever seen when it comes to talking about the sad, scaring, personal issues. Maybe if I did speak up more, more than the 5 extremely close friends I told, things would have sailed smoother within some classes of mine; that wasn't the case though. For a long time my perception on how to be strong was deceived by abandonment and miss-given advice; crying was for the weak, accepting help from others was shameful, and talking about your problems automatically made you burden. Then one day I hit a breaking point, and I cried, I confessed I didn't know what I was going to do, and I simply talked about all the emotional bullets I have been hit with. I can say that with absolutely no shame, because there was nothing to be ashamed of, life is hard, and everyone needs help every now and then. That's why I will always be there for anyone who needs it.

This year I fell in love by luck, or perhaps fate had a helping hand, regardless I know to treat what I have with respect and never take it for granted. Now, falling for someone can be surprisingly easy, it's keeping that someone that takes a world of dedication. Life was already tough, juggling school, family, activities, maybe a job, and whatever else you occupy your time with. Suddenly now you have an entirely new person who is relying on you. They want the same amount of love and attention you give everything else, if not more. Can you as a person handle that? I was foolish when I fell, didn't even bother to look at all the rocks that could pierce me like a sharpened blade, but with that hint of luck that got me there and hours of non-stop of dedication and patience, I haven't hit a rock yet. I'm blissfully in love.

Through this year my love and passion for creative writing has only grown stronger. The harsh reality of being an author had hit me multiple times this year, but it only made me flinch for a second. You know why? Because when I wake up, I crave a pen and paper. When I think about what I want to do for the rest of my life I always see combining words to create something appear. More than anything, it's what makes me happy no matter what mood I'm in. When others just don't understand, it's the final thing that stops me from giving up. Writing is who I am.

That's why I strongly believe with the fate I'm given, constant dedication, and a hint of luck... nothing can stop me from achieving exactly who I want to be.

Writing For A Cause

Despite your choice of writing (short stories, novels, poetry, journalism, ect.) I feel you should always be writing to make a point or impact someone, hopefully for the best. There should be a purpose to your words.

I have had moments in life that have destroyed me, but I got through them by expressing myself through writing. Anything I ever intend to share, I always hope there is a lesson to be taken from it. Whether it is clear what my intentions were, or if it so dark that people can see that there is more light in their lives then they realized.

What's the point of writing if it doesn't do anything? I'm being really serious. If you aren't feeling something by the end of a poem or story or article, how will anyone learn from it? It's pointless. The greatest power of literature is to reach people who otherwise could not be reached.

Journalists, stick up for causes you're passionate about. For me I'd be covering the debate on legalizing gay marriage. Novelists, write what you know and help people learn from it as you did. In my novel I want people to see what I have gone through personally, and that you can get back up from darkness like that. Poets, get all that emotion out as best you can without worrying. In my poems I tend not to come to a conclusion by the end, but hopefully it's enough to get people to come to their own.

Writing is powerful. Don't waste your potential of changing people's lives simply by using your words.

Poetry: My Only Language

Though short stories are one of my favorite things to write, with the aspect of control over the a life I could never live, or already have. It gives me time to write out and evaluate situations I'm going through or have been through. Pretty much it's a complete escape into another world that allows me to explore options and freedom of stress.

But sometimes you can't escape your issues through a story or play out all the different scenarios in writing. You can't write a new path and pretend everything is okay when it isn't. When times like that come around, when creating a new story isn't an option... that's the time for the truth to come pouring out through paper and pen. That's when poetry becomes my only language.

Poetry is a  productive and healthy way to face all my problems head on without drowning in the fear of them. I cannot express how many times poetry has saved me, quite literally.

Whether to express my darkest feelings, or try to get down in words the love I feel towards someone, it always helps shed some life on the subject. My conscious and heart finally agree to work together and get done the truth that's within me.

When I'm done I can reread to see how I feel about the situation. Or even at times I can reread it and see how much I'm over reacting. It's incredible how reading thoughts like that helps you see how the anger or fear or depression blinds you from reality. By just doing that you can save yourself a world of unneeded pain or anger.

This is one of my favorite pieces that I've written:

Here's to the broken hearted
The carelessly discarded
Here's to the blood shot eyes
The disregarded cries
Fighting the dark
Like a dying lighter spark
Bite your tongue until it bleeds
Because your words are what plant the seeds
Of doubt inside your mind
Lost but no one wants to find
The broken soul you have become
Cut and smoke, now perminately numb
A blinded future with a haunted past
How long can this high last?
How can you kill the enemy without suicide?
I'll stop. It's over. I'm fine. I lied.
Move on as if I was never here
For I never was, my faithless dear

The Hard Truths of Writing

Though this career is pretty much my dream, and I can fantasize about it all I want, there are a lot of hardships and difficulties you go through for even a chance of your dream to come true. I always knew that it wasn't an easy career path to follow, and while doing research for my career project for AP Lang, I ran across a blog (which I will post a link to at the end) that helped put things in place in my mind about what'll it take to achieve my dream.

Pretty much every part of this career is up in the air. There is no real formula of success in this business. I mean, true, vampires may be in now, but by the time you're done writing your Twilight-rip off and it's published...? Everyone has already moved on to salsa dancing robots (okay, maybe that won't be a thing any time soon, but you see my point). Really there is no way to tell what'll work and what won't until it just does. No one can predict that though, so there's never any sign or hint if your book will sell 1 copy, 100 copies, or if you're lucky they could fly off the shelf. You just don't know.

Oh writing! It's so freeing, so different, so unique! You wrote the most beautiful, tragic, inspiring love affair that not even Romeo and Juliet can touch! Soooo... the editors are definitely going to pick up your book and give it to a publisher right? WRONG. If they don't think it'll sell, they're not passing your book on to any publisher. Like every other business, it's all about the money. Sure there's still a ton of passion and love for literature, but a fat paycheck always helps, doesn't it?

In this career you have constant competition, with over a billion books a week being released. Anyone can publish a book at this point with self-publishing. Real, good old fashion, book stores are going under (two Barnes and Noble have already been closed near my house). People who love you online- through a blog or twitter you might run- aren't exactly going to go out and buy your book. The book you poured your heart soul in to? Yeah, everyone hates it.

Writing is one big gamble. You never know what'll happen. Nothing is set in stone with what's in, what people want, what people will say. Every time you try you might just get a big, "LOL NOPE."

But if you love to write, if this is your passion, don't ever give up. Because yes, there's many chances to get turn down, but there is still all those chances to have your dream fulfilled and get published.

Keep knocking on those doors, because even if a thousand shut you down, that thousand and one door might just be your ticket to your dreams.

Here is the link to the incredible article: 25 Hard Truths About Writing and Publishing

The "L" Word

"L". Now what could that stand for? With all the nouns and adjectives in the English the language the possibilities can go on forever, but for me, for this blog post, it stands for one crucial part of me and my life. It's a bit personal compared to my other posts so far, which I feel is a good thing because I believe over half of writing is who you are and what you feel. So try to keep an open mind as I explain the L word that has altered my writing more than I imagined it could.

L stands for "love": A huge part of our life is love, especially in our teen years. We all crave for the affection of others, especially from one person in particular. The person who's love we want more than anything else. Maybe it's just me, maybe it's just how I've been affected, but falling in love has not exactly been my friend when it comes to writing. The chase drove my mind wild with perfect endings. The rejection caused heartache that burst into flames and a million poems of pain. The back and forth tag game never let me stop wishing and wanting. I wrote all of that out, I projected everything I was hoping for on a piece a paper. All I could do was imagine the "what if"s and feel the pain when none of that happened. Which sounds quite terrible, and trust me those were some of the worst feelings I have ever experienced, but it was pure inspiration for some of my most incredible work. So now my "problem" (I put in quotes because in hindsight it really is not a problem)... I've fallen in love. True love, real love. Love that isn't tag or a crazy chase. I've caught her, and though there are still incredibly hard times and a bit of heartache, the love is there. Even in doubt, that love is there. Ever since I've fallen in love like this my writing just hasn't been the same. It had made me realize I live off of my own grief and pain, that fighting through all that darkness was what made my writing bright. Yet with love, there is always a shining light.

Recently I've realized this more. At first I was actually upset, just a little bit. It bothered me knowing I wasn't writing as well as before. It bothered me even more that sadness and depression had so much control over my inspiration. You know what though? I have decided to fight that. Yes great ideas come from the struggle of sadness, but you know what? Even greater ideas can come from love. Just the other day I began writing again, which I had missed so much. It was awkward at first, finding the words again, finding myself and the drive, but I did. And so far it really isn't that terrible at all.

Love. Finding it can throw you off, sometimes in more ways than one. Maybe writing isn't as easy as it was before. Maybe feelings doesn't come rushing out. But honestly, having the mind set and sensibility to stop and re-examine my work is more helpful than hurtful. At first what seemed like an ironic curse has shown me that once you are fully in the light, you can appreciate the beauty in the darkness while moving forward.

And despite how much I passion for writing; if I had to choose between my love for it and the love of my life... I'd rather be standing in the sunshine.

Story-ception

Think about it. Inception is a dream within a dream. Plotting an idea and making someone believe that that was their own to begin with. I try to do the same with some of my stories.

Suddenly before you is a character you seem to know all to well. Just their attitude and appearance sound hauntingly familiar. Who knows? Maybe you do know them. Maybe that's exactly the point. Read the story more and, yeah, okay, this character definitely rings a bell. Before you know it you realize that this character was that girl you met on the bus four years ago when you got caught in the rain. Or that jerk who tortured you in 7th grade because you were the first kid to get acne. Or even your brother who's hug you're now missing.

Did I know that girl you met? The jerk picking on you? Had your brother and I been introduced? No. But I take from the girl I met in haze. The jerk who made fun of me for what I couldn't control. And I can definitely make you like that was your who just opened his arms for a hug.

I take the things in my life, especially the small things, and expand them until they're clear. Then I go in and generalize them, without letting whatever or whoever lose the spark that made them important to begin with. So now not only do we have the main plot line I wrote going on, but at the same time you will be focused on that event or character, wondering what will happen, now feeling a secret second connection.

You wouldn't believe how easy it can become to do. You've got to enjoy the little things, or else your story won't be worth reading. No one wants to read a robot.

Off to write in my book! Who knows? You might be in the next chapter ;) Read carefully my friends.

Once Upon A Time...

Like any story, good or bad, there is always a beginning. Like a story, my journey to become a writer has a beginning. We can call it page one, the first page to the first chapter to a book that would soon explode with twists and turns and at times the unthinkable... but that's the best type of story. As exciting as my journey has become (I say that with slight sarcasm, you may not finding as interesting as I find it), let's start with the beginning, shall we? Explain how the first word was written down in my life's journal.

It's sort of crazy how I remember the moment I found out this was what I loved so clearly. All the other students around me didn't even exist. I was having fun deciding what words to use and where to place them. My mind was going a thousand miles an hour, actually excited about working, it was insane. My eyes were glued on what I was typing and nothing else mattered. I was in some sort of zone that I had never felt before, but loved the rush I was getting. All these feelings and get this- I was in third grade writing up a paper on Thomas Edison.

Ironically enough, I didn't even want to write this paper. We had to choose an important figure in history to write about, and of course all the girls instantly wanted to write about Amelia Earhart and other female figures. The thing is, no two students could write about the same historic figure. Before I knew it all the girl figures were taken and all the other ones that sounded interesting were gone as well. There I was, stuck with boring Thomas Edison, inventor of the light bulb. Big woop.

After I started working though and got to the writing part, it somehow became fun. I realized I had control. I had control over what was said and how I would say it. All this information I read about Thomas Edison I could now take it, reword it to make it my own, make it interesting, show my opinion, add my take on what I read and write it how I viewed. For some reason that gave me so much joy. Then, when I was done, it was about 3 pages where all the other kids wrote about 1. I got an A+ on that paper, and I'll never forget the feeling I got from accomplishing something like that.

That was the very tiny push that started the snowball effect. I completely lucked out on my next two teachers for 4th and 5th grade. They both promoted creative writing and pushed me to the next level each assignment we were given. Through those two years I began to write short stories and poetry and before I knew it all this writing not only became a huge part of my life, but, in a way, it was saving my life too.

It all starts with a beginning.