I walked into my Monday morning study session, eight-thirty. The room sat chilled from an open window and AC vent. Blinds shifted. Light bounced off the stained white-board. A table that looks taken from surgery stands at the end of the room, and I set my greying Disney backpack down.
After ten minutes, the first student walked in. She sat in the second row, third aisle. "Good morning, John."
"Morning." I wiped my eyes and drew a slash where her name listed on the attendance sheet. "Do the reading?"
"I have a question for you."
I blinked and set my folder aside. "About the reading?"
She nodded. She looked up at the ceiling and moved her hand in the air, fishing for the words that would soon come to her.
When I ask people what inspires them in writing, I am told about childhoods, friends, haunted houses, or food. When I tell people what inspires me, the answers tend to vary based on the day that I've been having.
I started writing in dark times. I didn't have a happy start to my craft. Yes, I grew up as a reader, just as almost every writer did. Many people think that writers are expected to start with a magical moment.
It's arguable to say that the start of a writer is not important. How did Hemingway begin? What made Stephen King get his first published novel? If you've read enough, you'll surely find out the answers. But one thing that stands a mystery is how these authors and more get started writing each and every day.
I watched my tutee as she thought about her question. At eight-thirty, not much thinking goes on unless one is used to the mental-stimulation.
"John," she said, "How does the use of verbs and nouns convey an author's tone or theme?"
A fly buzzed in the air. Below me, my legs dangled from my risen seat. I looked at her, mouth open, and my heart fluttered just a bit.
Inspiration comes to us like questions. Sometimes, we might be stewing on our thoughts for a while, waiting to see what comes out clearly. Other times, our ideas line up, and we're able to toss out something great that surprises even those who are prepared for anything.
I answered that student's question, and she left the session, an hour later, with new ideas to apply in her essay. Four days later, and I'm still pondering the thoughts this student might have, the questions she's waiting to ask. Like inspiration, they might come easy, but we'll have to wait for and see whatever comes out.
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Showing posts with label mt. san antonio college. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mt. san antonio college. Show all posts
Friday, April 18, 2014
Saturday, March 22, 2014
Visualizing Success in Writing and Public Speaking for Authors
I stand outside with my group of three peers, and we have less than five
minutes to make something up. Reading the textbook, I ask my group
what success made them think of. Sports, one says, so we talk about
fighting and basketball. How do we visualize success, I ask. We stand
under the buzzing light of a neighboring portable, thinking about it.
On Thursday nights, I attend a three hour course on developing career and life directions. We've been discussing what colleges have been looking for, but public speaking came up this past Thursday, when we were told we would need to perform a short, two-minute skit in front of the class.
Public speaking is the number one fear in the world, not spiders or HIV. On a daily basis, we put ourselves into situations that require us to speak publicly, yet our bodies begin to break into shakes and sweating when we're told suddenly to perform.
As writers, we don't feel the necessity to speak aloud to crowds of people; our work is solitary. But that's not the truth, for writers are those who sell their books. Writers go to conferences to meet publishers, other writers, and working editors. Your publishers, I argue, do shit of that. We are put on the front lines.
The professor assigned topics on what builds self-esteem. The professor put us outside in the dark lighting of a parking lot at eight, P.M.. He gave one group determination, another persistence. We got visualizing success.
Visualization, thankfully, can be used in multiple situations such as speaking publicly and writing. It helps move us forward in our writing. We all start with one word, Stephen King says. One word leads to a sentence, which creates a paragraph after a while. By visualizing this or performing well in front of a crowd, we feel the difficulty of our crafts drop and our confidence rise.
We're the last group to walk in when the professor presses the door open with his foot. As group one, we go first. We're standing at the front of the class, looking towards football players, adult students, coaches, and a champion softball player. Say your names, the professor says. I say mine first, and we move down the line. One breath. I think about the next, first word, and we start.
Two minutes become five minutes, and our class looks at us with open jaws. One group gets up and leaves the room.
On Thursday nights, I attend a three hour course on developing career and life directions. We've been discussing what colleges have been looking for, but public speaking came up this past Thursday, when we were told we would need to perform a short, two-minute skit in front of the class.
Public speaking is the number one fear in the world, not spiders or HIV. On a daily basis, we put ourselves into situations that require us to speak publicly, yet our bodies begin to break into shakes and sweating when we're told suddenly to perform.
As writers, we don't feel the necessity to speak aloud to crowds of people; our work is solitary. But that's not the truth, for writers are those who sell their books. Writers go to conferences to meet publishers, other writers, and working editors. Your publishers, I argue, do shit of that. We are put on the front lines.
The professor assigned topics on what builds self-esteem. The professor put us outside in the dark lighting of a parking lot at eight, P.M.. He gave one group determination, another persistence. We got visualizing success.
Visualization, thankfully, can be used in multiple situations such as speaking publicly and writing. It helps move us forward in our writing. We all start with one word, Stephen King says. One word leads to a sentence, which creates a paragraph after a while. By visualizing this or performing well in front of a crowd, we feel the difficulty of our crafts drop and our confidence rise.
We're the last group to walk in when the professor presses the door open with his foot. As group one, we go first. We're standing at the front of the class, looking towards football players, adult students, coaches, and a champion softball player. Say your names, the professor says. I say mine first, and we move down the line. One breath. I think about the next, first word, and we start.
Two minutes become five minutes, and our class looks at us with open jaws. One group gets up and leaves the room.
Sunday, March 2, 2014
Spring in Academia
It wasn't until I parked that I realized how much I had to rush. Cars lined the fences of Mt. San Antonio College. A breeze had picked up, and crowds hunkered around the crossing sign at the closest intersection, one parking lot away. For the start of a semester, this wasn't too bad.
My classes are mixed throughout the week: Mondays and Wednesdays are Speech, Tuesdays and Thursdays are Nonfiction, and Thursday nights are Career Development. I decided to take a lighter semester as I work in other classes, tutoring students and preparing them for their next courses. Nothing too hard, I said.
I'll be working forty hours a week, at least.
Crossing the street, I had to squeeze my way through trudging students. I then had to climb the hill. My phone said it was 8:35, which meant that I was later for an 8:30 meeting.
The American Language department wasn't too much of a walk from where I was. There, I would find my first work section, a linked or connect unit of two classes leading from 9:45 A.M. to 2:05 P.M.. A line led out the front doors. Students of various nationalities fidgeted, sighed, groaned. Those at the end of the line didn't seem any happier, speaking in broken English.
Eight minutes passed until I found the office of the professor I would be working under. The office hid at the end of the hall, but when I stepped in, the professor greeted me and pulled me to a chair. I was given a textbook, syllabus, and discussion of what to expect. Smiling, I agreed that this semester would be interesting, fun.
Class started on time, and I might another professor. She gave her name, office hours, and expectations. Halfway through, she introduced me. I stood in front of the class, eyes watching over me. Day one, and I knew that I was in for a ride.
My classes are mixed throughout the week: Mondays and Wednesdays are Speech, Tuesdays and Thursdays are Nonfiction, and Thursday nights are Career Development. I decided to take a lighter semester as I work in other classes, tutoring students and preparing them for their next courses. Nothing too hard, I said.
I'll be working forty hours a week, at least.
Crossing the street, I had to squeeze my way through trudging students. I then had to climb the hill. My phone said it was 8:35, which meant that I was later for an 8:30 meeting.
The American Language department wasn't too much of a walk from where I was. There, I would find my first work section, a linked or connect unit of two classes leading from 9:45 A.M. to 2:05 P.M.. A line led out the front doors. Students of various nationalities fidgeted, sighed, groaned. Those at the end of the line didn't seem any happier, speaking in broken English.
Eight minutes passed until I found the office of the professor I would be working under. The office hid at the end of the hall, but when I stepped in, the professor greeted me and pulled me to a chair. I was given a textbook, syllabus, and discussion of what to expect. Smiling, I agreed that this semester would be interesting, fun.
Class started on time, and I might another professor. She gave her name, office hours, and expectations. Halfway through, she introduced me. I stood in front of the class, eyes watching over me. Day one, and I knew that I was in for a ride.
Saturday, January 4, 2014
2014: Steps to a New Path
Something dripped out of my nose, and crawling out of bed felt like stepping from a cliff. It was Christmas, and, like many years before, we had to wait for the family to arrive before anything could be eaten or opened. Snorting, I tried to keep positive as my cat prevented me from anything more than a shuffle under the covers.
I had slept most of the day. When I woke at six, hungry, my sister had arrived; she had woken me up by slamming the door, shouting about how her tire had exploded and she had to be towed home.
The evening went well with the nephew opening his new favorite toys, a Hot Wheels Car Maker and Disney Infinity video game, and the rest of us getting things we each can use and cherish for the next upcoming year: 2014.
In our family, we don't exchange resolutions or stories. Our New Years Eve is spent with pizza, and that's about it. After Christmas had gone, we would fall into our own spaces and hibernate or, if we're lucky, clean. But the rest is needed just as much as the organization. For me, January marks the start of back-to-back conventions, conferences, and hours of work tutoring.
2013 was an amazing year outside of the threatening belief of rapture and Earth destruction, but it's time to step out and progress further into this new decade. Rather than continue the current path I'm falling, I plan to write more with the time I have rather than wait to spend my time on one day of writing; to step outside my comfort zone and make a difference for others, if not myself, while taking school more seriously.
I want to thank all the friends and family, whether related or not, for the year of publications, hours of work, months stressing and worrying, and moments of breath and pause. Each day is a new experience, and each moment spent with each other is a new direction. 2014 is the year of the horse, and like Equines, the only thing we can do now is stride towards a new adventure.
I had slept most of the day. When I woke at six, hungry, my sister had arrived; she had woken me up by slamming the door, shouting about how her tire had exploded and she had to be towed home.
The evening went well with the nephew opening his new favorite toys, a Hot Wheels Car Maker and Disney Infinity video game, and the rest of us getting things we each can use and cherish for the next upcoming year: 2014.
In our family, we don't exchange resolutions or stories. Our New Years Eve is spent with pizza, and that's about it. After Christmas had gone, we would fall into our own spaces and hibernate or, if we're lucky, clean. But the rest is needed just as much as the organization. For me, January marks the start of back-to-back conventions, conferences, and hours of work tutoring.
2013 was an amazing year outside of the threatening belief of rapture and Earth destruction, but it's time to step out and progress further into this new decade. Rather than continue the current path I'm falling, I plan to write more with the time I have rather than wait to spend my time on one day of writing; to step outside my comfort zone and make a difference for others, if not myself, while taking school more seriously.
I want to thank all the friends and family, whether related or not, for the year of publications, hours of work, months stressing and worrying, and moments of breath and pause. Each day is a new experience, and each moment spent with each other is a new direction. 2014 is the year of the horse, and like Equines, the only thing we can do now is stride towards a new adventure.
Monday, November 25, 2013
Campus History That Lives
Not so long ago, The Conjuring, a film based off an actual paranormal investigation and exorcism during the 60s, came out on DVD. The story is changed a bit just to keep audiences watching as usual, I believe, but the recreations of paranormal activity are pretty similar to the real thing: wall banging, hair pulling, skin biting and clawing, and item throwing can happen. It was just the other night, during a class of mine, that I felt my school might actually be haunted.
It was a lecture during my Novel course, and I had my yellow legal pad out for me to take notes. We were discussing plot. I tried to think on how I could incorporate certain aspects into my current novel without pulling the fun from the characters.
The sound of a desk moving came from the room's left corner. There was a projector, table, and leaning poster of Pulp Fiction sitting against the wall, but they hadn't moved.
It had came from the other room, where the school's newspaper was made and edited. I read the newspaper whenever it comes out, and asides the occasional grammar error, it's pretty strong. Their room is placed next to the computer lab I was going to use for work, before I changed rooms due to lacking keys.
The Novel class would go until ten, and I asked myself what if the school was haunted like The Conjuring. Mt. San Antonio College (Mt. Sac) used to be a military hospital, first army then navy, during World War II. Not many students know this, and when they learn, it's a surprise.
Locations such as Mt. Sac are prone to paranormal activity. The history is right, and the constant construction changes the landscape every year. When a location is changed from what it once was, spirits tend to be disturbed. This is mostly seen in homes and hotels, but if a location is carrying enough emotion in the walls, anything can happen.
Which is why I wouldn't be surprised if Mt. Sac was haunted. While the desk could have been moved by a staff member, student, or custodian, it's easy to see where energy can be focused enough to yank an object for a couple of feet. The sound of boots clapping down an empty hallway would not be anything too far from real.
The lecture finished at the hour. I stayed behind to talk with a couple of classmates and our professor. We talked about movies, the ones people have to watch. After ten minutes, I looked at the clock, said goodnight, and walked the empty but lit corridors to a supposedly empty parking lot.
It was a lecture during my Novel course, and I had my yellow legal pad out for me to take notes. We were discussing plot. I tried to think on how I could incorporate certain aspects into my current novel without pulling the fun from the characters.
The sound of a desk moving came from the room's left corner. There was a projector, table, and leaning poster of Pulp Fiction sitting against the wall, but they hadn't moved.
It had came from the other room, where the school's newspaper was made and edited. I read the newspaper whenever it comes out, and asides the occasional grammar error, it's pretty strong. Their room is placed next to the computer lab I was going to use for work, before I changed rooms due to lacking keys.
The Novel class would go until ten, and I asked myself what if the school was haunted like The Conjuring. Mt. San Antonio College (Mt. Sac) used to be a military hospital, first army then navy, during World War II. Not many students know this, and when they learn, it's a surprise.
Locations such as Mt. Sac are prone to paranormal activity. The history is right, and the constant construction changes the landscape every year. When a location is changed from what it once was, spirits tend to be disturbed. This is mostly seen in homes and hotels, but if a location is carrying enough emotion in the walls, anything can happen.
Which is why I wouldn't be surprised if Mt. Sac was haunted. While the desk could have been moved by a staff member, student, or custodian, it's easy to see where energy can be focused enough to yank an object for a couple of feet. The sound of boots clapping down an empty hallway would not be anything too far from real.
The lecture finished at the hour. I stayed behind to talk with a couple of classmates and our professor. We talked about movies, the ones people have to watch. After ten minutes, I looked at the clock, said goodnight, and walked the empty but lit corridors to a supposedly empty parking lot.
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
Using Journalism as a Form of Character Creation
It's been a while since I last posted here. School is in session, and work has me making sure students are on their game most of the time. This leaves little room for me to write anything out of my Novel course's required chapters (the class being taught by John Brantingham himself).
When I'm free, however, I do find the time to draft short non-fiction pieces. I'm a huge fan of travel writing and watching a landscape come to life with just a few words. It's magic--the same magic which brought me into writing creatively. Even without traveling to my favorite city up north, I can at least describe it.
There's another purpose to being a fictional reporter. As a writer, I find myself constantly squabbling over how important it is to give a strong, detailed character illustrated by his or her actions. The mind can only see so much, so I have to put the character to work, just so everything becomes clear to the reader. In a recent, featured article in The Writer, Patrick Scalisi discusses how a writer can form stronger characters just by treating an exercise as if a professional, journalistic interview. It doesn't require the author to be a professional in journalism, as Scalisi argues, and it allows the writer to express any ideas while letting the character have his or her way.
Interested in non-fiction, I decided to give it a try with my latest character, Paul, a narcissistic cheater living two lives.. The interview piece is short, but I was able to see more so on the first layer of my character, Paul Greer, while understanding what he has to hide deep inside. Here's what came out:
When I'm free, however, I do find the time to draft short non-fiction pieces. I'm a huge fan of travel writing and watching a landscape come to life with just a few words. It's magic--the same magic which brought me into writing creatively. Even without traveling to my favorite city up north, I can at least describe it.
There's another purpose to being a fictional reporter. As a writer, I find myself constantly squabbling over how important it is to give a strong, detailed character illustrated by his or her actions. The mind can only see so much, so I have to put the character to work, just so everything becomes clear to the reader. In a recent, featured article in The Writer, Patrick Scalisi discusses how a writer can form stronger characters just by treating an exercise as if a professional, journalistic interview. It doesn't require the author to be a professional in journalism, as Scalisi argues, and it allows the writer to express any ideas while letting the character have his or her way.
Interested in non-fiction, I decided to give it a try with my latest character, Paul, a narcissistic cheater living two lives.. The interview piece is short, but I was able to see more so on the first layer of my character, Paul Greer, while understanding what he has to hide deep inside. Here's what came out:
The ferry roars into the docks and when
settled, its gates open to let out dripping tourists and locals, each
with cameras in their hands. Their ponchos glisten against the muted
background of San Francisco's bay, and I watch them peel the layers
away until they stand in jeans and sweaters.
One man stands in a polo-shirt and
pair of slacks. In his hand, he has a cell-phone and pair of bug-eyed
sunglasses.
Paul Greer works in Los Angeles as an
attorney and public speaker. For him, traveling up north is just
another day to add to his resume. We sit down on a bench in front of
the clock tower standing over Market Street, with sandwiches in our
hands, warm.
“My trips are usually centered on
wealthy businessmen, divorcing families, land owners.”
“Do you ever feel the drive's too
much?”
He smiles and I can see lettuce stuck
between his teeth. “It's worth it.”
For him, the cool winds overlap into
his burning world down south, where his family lives and works
without him. He brings them food, souvenirs, and portraits they
cannot get unless they spend the salary on traveling, something he
says is an arguable approach.
“My wife has a kid, and there's
another one on the way.”
“Does that upset you they'll be
growing up only seeing you half of the time?”
“We get used to it, and my son knows
a trip means toys, bread.” He takes another bite out of his
sandwich. “He's fond of those shaped bread loaves, from Boudin's.”
As we're talking, a group of students
rush to a halted street-car, the F-Line. The bell rings and the back
door opens. Passengers get out, and Paul watches. We wait for the
door to close and the tube of chrome to screech away.
“I never get used to this city. I
call it the city of love, and each drive up here is a new experience,
new dream.”
My sandwich begins to get cold as a
pelican waddles up, head turned and eyes watching me. “What does an
attorney dream of?”
He holds for a second when the bird
moves up, and his right foot lifts, scaring the pelican away.
“I've asked the same thing with the
Boogeyman, and I still haven't found an answer. I go where the money
is.”
“And is the money always in San
Francisco?”
He nods his head, bites the steaming
pastrami once more, and doesn't wait to speak. “Sometimes,” he
says. “Sometimes.”
John Brantingham is an author teaching in Southern California. His work can be found at johnbrantingham.blogspot.com.
The Writer is a monthly publication, which can be found online at Writermag.com.
"Character Profile," written by Patrick Scalisi, can be found here, http://www.writermag.com/2013/09/30/character-profile/
Friday, June 7, 2013
Writing Tutoring and the Future
As a writing tutor, I get an experience of both being a student and a teacher. It's an odd mix as I have never thought of myself as a teacher, but I've been told by students that's how we--meaning tutors--are seen as. That's not the reason I tutor, however. For me, tutoring is a way to keep myself busy and talking and thinking about writing. Some would argue that's like doing homework every day, but I find it play-time.
This semester was different for me as I actually had a professor mentor over me while I tutored in her classroom. It was a new form of work I have never been given, and it brought many challenges along the way. But I ultimately learned a lot, such as how to handle the different types of learners further, how much planning goes into a lesson, how flexible a professor/instructor must be with the tasks at hand and how the students digest it, and how many ways writing can be looked at. Not only did this help me as a tutor, but this affected me in my writing.
The structures and tones I witnessed opened my eyes, and the stories some students told me gave me a further glance into human nature and the conflicts that can occur. One student, an older woman, told me large stories of her day-to-day concerns and accomplishments; then she proceeded to discuss how if something happens on a small scale, it can affect her and the day in its entirety. Story wise, this gave me the opportunity to apply ideas on character direction in impossible, stressful situations. Even in non-stressful situation, a character could react horribly, putting them into a new conflict (though, the student I speak of never did such a thing, I must add). The position didn't just affect my fiction, but it changed how I viewed my own future and direction.
Two years ago, I would have never thought of becoming a professor in anything, but I fin myself thinking towards the idea every day. Being payed to help others and push them to a new level with writing, something I'm passionate for, sounds amazing even there are those who are obviously less passionate. Furthermore, my own studies have revealed that I'm heavily interested in focusing on female literature and feminist arguments even more so than I had thought before. I plan to see a counselor next week and announce my major in English, so I'm excited, but as the semester wraps up, My plan is to dive heavily in fiction.
As a student, it's difficult to find free time that works with class, work, and fiction writing. The same can be argued for anything: being a professor, parent, business-person, police-officer, etc. But these next few months will allow me to tackle my writing skills at the same level I had previously, and I will be able to read as many books as I want to assist. The students laughed when I stated I would be writing all summer, but they didn't realize how much this is a passion for me. That, or maybe my thriller stories are really starting to affect me.
This semester was different for me as I actually had a professor mentor over me while I tutored in her classroom. It was a new form of work I have never been given, and it brought many challenges along the way. But I ultimately learned a lot, such as how to handle the different types of learners further, how much planning goes into a lesson, how flexible a professor/instructor must be with the tasks at hand and how the students digest it, and how many ways writing can be looked at. Not only did this help me as a tutor, but this affected me in my writing.
The structures and tones I witnessed opened my eyes, and the stories some students told me gave me a further glance into human nature and the conflicts that can occur. One student, an older woman, told me large stories of her day-to-day concerns and accomplishments; then she proceeded to discuss how if something happens on a small scale, it can affect her and the day in its entirety. Story wise, this gave me the opportunity to apply ideas on character direction in impossible, stressful situations. Even in non-stressful situation, a character could react horribly, putting them into a new conflict (though, the student I speak of never did such a thing, I must add). The position didn't just affect my fiction, but it changed how I viewed my own future and direction.
Two years ago, I would have never thought of becoming a professor in anything, but I fin myself thinking towards the idea every day. Being payed to help others and push them to a new level with writing, something I'm passionate for, sounds amazing even there are those who are obviously less passionate. Furthermore, my own studies have revealed that I'm heavily interested in focusing on female literature and feminist arguments even more so than I had thought before. I plan to see a counselor next week and announce my major in English, so I'm excited, but as the semester wraps up, My plan is to dive heavily in fiction.
As a student, it's difficult to find free time that works with class, work, and fiction writing. The same can be argued for anything: being a professor, parent, business-person, police-officer, etc. But these next few months will allow me to tackle my writing skills at the same level I had previously, and I will be able to read as many books as I want to assist. The students laughed when I stated I would be writing all summer, but they didn't realize how much this is a passion for me. That, or maybe my thriller stories are really starting to affect me.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Open Arms and Manuscripts: Writers' Weekend and the Jitters
This past weekend in sunny Southern California, Mt. San Antonio College hosted its Writers' Weekend event, a three day conference consisting of students, professors, published writers, and professionals all following one passion: writing, of course! It started on Friday with opening ceremonies and pushed through to Sunday with hours of creativity and socialization. And as a writer with anxiety, this was an amazing experience.
At the beginning, I was a bit nervous on what would happen, but in an hour of that, every sign of worry went out the door. Yes, I hand the schedule in my hands, and I had planned which events were my go-to choices, but that didn't make things easier; even with a clear path and destination, my mind is working overtime to try and plot possible scenarios. However, I found myself enjoying the plan I had set forth, and each panel was educational and enjoyable. One of the highest points was having the chance to meet Bonnie Hearn Hill, an author and one of the friendliest persons I have ever met. Walking in, I didn't know what to expect, but the discussion, which progressed for fifteen minutes, was amazing. We discussed writing in its structure and even found ourselves on the topic of Virginia Woolf. I passed a story to her and was ecstatic to find it was taken well; being creative, I take my work as what it is, but hearing someone compliment it nearly gave me heart-palpitations. The session reminded me that everyone in the writing community is there for each other, regardless of level, and that was a special thing to experience. While meeting other writers was a special moment, the panels were just as eye-opening.
Sunny Frasier, an acquisitions editor and mystery author, hosted a panel on genre fiction, which presented the world of publishing in a realistic, understandable way. As artists, writers have multiple reasons for why they create, such as passion or hobbies. For me, writing is a form of release and meditation, communicating to the outside world what the darkness is and how to overcome it (Stephen King calls it telepathy in his memoir, On Writing [which you all should read!]). But, like everything, we writers need to make a living, and Sunny presented how it is possible to do so with publishing. Genre is a form of entertainment, like all forms of reading, but it's more commercial than literary fiction, text that is seen regularly in College. Sunny's words of encouragement and wisdom were entertaining on their, and I know that I'll be keeping these notes with me every time I write.
While not as big as major writing conferences, Writers' Weekend brought me further into the literary world; I engaged myself with people of similar interests, and the anxiety and fear washed away at how excited and friendly everyone was. Of course, that's the case for everything, but in an art form that relies heavily on solitude, it's nice to remember that there are others out there pulling their hair just as much as I am.
I highly recommend Writers' Weekend, whether handling anxiety, publishing, or not. It's a glorious event with educated, creative people, and they gave away free pizza (now, let's not make that the only reason it was great). Looking forward to returning, I plan to spread the word out, and use what I've learned for writing sessions to come. Kudos to John Brantingham, Llyod Aquino, Michelle Dougherty, and the volunteers who put it all together.
At the beginning, I was a bit nervous on what would happen, but in an hour of that, every sign of worry went out the door. Yes, I hand the schedule in my hands, and I had planned which events were my go-to choices, but that didn't make things easier; even with a clear path and destination, my mind is working overtime to try and plot possible scenarios. However, I found myself enjoying the plan I had set forth, and each panel was educational and enjoyable. One of the highest points was having the chance to meet Bonnie Hearn Hill, an author and one of the friendliest persons I have ever met. Walking in, I didn't know what to expect, but the discussion, which progressed for fifteen minutes, was amazing. We discussed writing in its structure and even found ourselves on the topic of Virginia Woolf. I passed a story to her and was ecstatic to find it was taken well; being creative, I take my work as what it is, but hearing someone compliment it nearly gave me heart-palpitations. The session reminded me that everyone in the writing community is there for each other, regardless of level, and that was a special thing to experience. While meeting other writers was a special moment, the panels were just as eye-opening.
Sunny Frasier, an acquisitions editor and mystery author, hosted a panel on genre fiction, which presented the world of publishing in a realistic, understandable way. As artists, writers have multiple reasons for why they create, such as passion or hobbies. For me, writing is a form of release and meditation, communicating to the outside world what the darkness is and how to overcome it (Stephen King calls it telepathy in his memoir, On Writing [which you all should read!]). But, like everything, we writers need to make a living, and Sunny presented how it is possible to do so with publishing. Genre is a form of entertainment, like all forms of reading, but it's more commercial than literary fiction, text that is seen regularly in College. Sunny's words of encouragement and wisdom were entertaining on their, and I know that I'll be keeping these notes with me every time I write.
While not as big as major writing conferences, Writers' Weekend brought me further into the literary world; I engaged myself with people of similar interests, and the anxiety and fear washed away at how excited and friendly everyone was. Of course, that's the case for everything, but in an art form that relies heavily on solitude, it's nice to remember that there are others out there pulling their hair just as much as I am.
I highly recommend Writers' Weekend, whether handling anxiety, publishing, or not. It's a glorious event with educated, creative people, and they gave away free pizza (now, let's not make that the only reason it was great). Looking forward to returning, I plan to spread the word out, and use what I've learned for writing sessions to come. Kudos to John Brantingham, Llyod Aquino, Michelle Dougherty, and the volunteers who put it all together.
Monday, March 25, 2013
TC-Class: Parasitic Plagiarism and You
The art of plagiarism is one many
students find themselves running into, sucking the life out of their work and creating chaos. It is a tricky
subject, plagiarism is, in that the idea of stealing someone's exact
words, phrases, and ideas brings up quarrelsome thoughts to some writers: they are
just words and expressions. This is where most incoming students get
nailed, and they land on the receiving end of a failing grade, perhaps even
expulsion.
But to plagiarize something is
actually quite tricky; to take someone's own words and try to pull
them off takes some time to perfect, and, realistically,
it is a wasted effort in the fact that he or she gets nothing out of it. No, in college, where ideas are to be expressed in an open, mature manner, it is
much simpler, and fun, for the writer to create their own masterpiece of
communication and spread it about the campus, possibly attached with
a well deserved A.
To refrain from plagiarism, it is best
for the student to understand that everything a published writer brings to a
work is by ownership his or her own: words, syntax (the way the words are pieced
together), ideas (arguments, stories, logical connections, etc.); and
if the work is of fiction, the student writer must remember to attach
each bit of dialogue and plot structure into attribution, or giving
credit back to the original author (“In the short story 'Apology
Accepted,' John J. Lewis illustrates...”).
MLA, or the Modern Language
Association, is a swell group that provides structure and orderliness
to the act of attributing a work; their handbooks direct student
writers to introduce an author at the start, and follow up by mentioning him or her after each quotation
or idea in parenthetical citations (along with a nifty page or
paragraph number). When asked not to directly quote though,
paraphrasing becomes a tricky obstacle.
Paraphrasing can be difficult, but
remember: it is telling the idea in your own words, still giving all
credit back to the author. Located on their website, Purdue OWL
states, "Paraphrasing is one way to use a
text in your own writing without directly quoting source material. Anytime you are taking information from a source that is not your
own, you need to specify where you got that information." Paraphrasing and quotations should be used as needed in order to respectfully attribute back to an author, but every original idea regarding a subject must come from the student. Look at it that the
author still needs a reason to get payed for his or her work, and
while you might not be payed, you are taking that away from him or her.
As a student, the average college writer is stepping
away from high school and onto bigger, better, less dramatic things,
but that means giving credit where credit is due just as a
professor would give a high passing grade for the work that student has
completed on their own.
Plagiarism is a parasitic pest; once a
student begins to commit it, it will continue to grow in that
student, and fester, until finally he or she is caught and removed
like a tick, marked forever as a thief of logic. That is not to say
that writing strong and logical, original ideas is difficult; rather, it
is much easier in that the student writer is creating, bringing life into a
piece that no one else has seen before. It is rewarding to see the
polished work--the writer's own work--return without someone else
stealing the vibes. Any college student, experienced or not, can
argue the same.
Purdue OWL on Quoting, Paraphrasing, and Summarizing can be found here:
http://owl.english.purdue.edu/owl/resource/563/01/
---Plagiarism:
http://owl.english.purdue.edu/owl/resource/589/01/
Purdue OWL on Quoting, Paraphrasing, and Summarizing can be found here:
http://owl.english.purdue.edu/owl/resource/563/01/
---Plagiarism:
http://owl.english.purdue.edu/owl/resource/589/01/
Thursday, March 14, 2013
Writing from the Prompt
In college, one of the most important things when it comes to writing is being able to follow directions correctly by understanding what's asked. If a professor states they want a four page minimum and several sources prevalent throughout the piece, then it's best to give them what they ask for; however, essays and summaries are not the only forms of writing that can be prompted.
I visited the classroom of John Brantingham after work to visit the Creative-Writing Club, a group of writers I haven't worked with before. He wasn't there, taking some time off to recover, but the club was hosted by the president and other coordinators. Walking in late, I slipped into the back, but I found myself added to the activities of introducing ones self and, of course, writing under a timed, prompt restrained setting. We were asked to write creatively, though: fiction and poetry was up for grabs, and I decided on doing the fiction. For the short-story, we had a few restraints written on the board:
"Can you tell me why he's following you?" David wiped the sweat off his brow, staring out the bungalow's front window.
Amy held herself from an unseen breeze. "I'm not sure, but he's everywhere."
"He can't be everywhere."
"Yes, he can," she said.
David turned. The golden giraffe pin, something only given to experienced handlers throughout the year--from what he said--glinted in the young woman's eyes, burning her. It illuminated her split ends into hanging embers of ash.
"Listen, Amy, you're just tired. You've been working too much."
She sighed. "And what are you saying?"
"No one's chasing you out there, is what I mean; no one's hunting you."
"You don't know. You don't know what I've been through," she said. "The freak watches me sleep. And that makeup."
David turned to the window once more, palm on the glass with the other hand up.
"His makeup looks like he buck-fumbled through it."
"Does it frighten you?" he asked.
Amy opened her lips, glancing at the handler. She wanted to tell him yes. She wanted to say how she wished David would hold her, letting her cry in his arms, taking away the weeks of hiding in the restroom and tidying a knife beneath her pillow. But, when he turned, her eyes clenched at the reflection of his dulled, misshapen clown nose.
It isn't much, but it gave me a chance to just let a story come out, and allow the characters to breathe and become their own entities. Working with this novel, The Neptune, has pulled me from that very idea; I feel as though I need to plot so heavily, when I should let the work write itself instead.
For Mt. Sac students, the club is on Thursdays, 2:30 to 4:00 P.M. and is hosted in 3411 of 26A. I'm personally looking forward to returning. Stop by if you want to give writing a chance!
I visited the classroom of John Brantingham after work to visit the Creative-Writing Club, a group of writers I haven't worked with before. He wasn't there, taking some time off to recover, but the club was hosted by the president and other coordinators. Walking in late, I slipped into the back, but I found myself added to the activities of introducing ones self and, of course, writing under a timed, prompt restrained setting. We were asked to write creatively, though: fiction and poetry was up for grabs, and I decided on doing the fiction. For the short-story, we had a few restraints written on the board:
- The Protagonist's name was Amy.
- Amy worked in a clown store.
- She was deeply in love with a giraffe handler.
- Amy had an evil clown stalker.
- We must use the word "Buck-fumbling" within the literature.
"Can you tell me why he's following you?" David wiped the sweat off his brow, staring out the bungalow's front window.
Amy held herself from an unseen breeze. "I'm not sure, but he's everywhere."
"He can't be everywhere."
"Yes, he can," she said.
David turned. The golden giraffe pin, something only given to experienced handlers throughout the year--from what he said--glinted in the young woman's eyes, burning her. It illuminated her split ends into hanging embers of ash.
"Listen, Amy, you're just tired. You've been working too much."
She sighed. "And what are you saying?"
"No one's chasing you out there, is what I mean; no one's hunting you."
"You don't know. You don't know what I've been through," she said. "The freak watches me sleep. And that makeup."
David turned to the window once more, palm on the glass with the other hand up.
"His makeup looks like he buck-fumbled through it."
"Does it frighten you?" he asked.
Amy opened her lips, glancing at the handler. She wanted to tell him yes. She wanted to say how she wished David would hold her, letting her cry in his arms, taking away the weeks of hiding in the restroom and tidying a knife beneath her pillow. But, when he turned, her eyes clenched at the reflection of his dulled, misshapen clown nose.
It isn't much, but it gave me a chance to just let a story come out, and allow the characters to breathe and become their own entities. Working with this novel, The Neptune, has pulled me from that very idea; I feel as though I need to plot so heavily, when I should let the work write itself instead.
For Mt. Sac students, the club is on Thursdays, 2:30 to 4:00 P.M. and is hosted in 3411 of 26A. I'm personally looking forward to returning. Stop by if you want to give writing a chance!
Monday, February 18, 2013
San Gabriel Valley LitFest & Semester Update
I've decided to come out of my cave for once. Over the weekend I went to the San Gabriel Valley Literary Festival, which is a new event located in West Covina. I dropped by on Saturday, after having my brakes clunk to junk on Thursday, so I wasn't able to make it to the Friday open-mic events. When I got there in the morning after some trouble, 12:15 to be precise--which I guess is noon--I started by going to a literary magazine's reading. The day continued with reading after reading, until finally I made my leave at three for errands. But it was all fantastic.
This would be my first literary festival outside of regular fandom conventions, and the same feeling of mutual appreciation was there, but focused devotedly on writing and literature. I wish I could have returned for Sunday, so next year I'll be sure to clear it up, and come April when Mt Sac. hosts their writer's conference, I'll be there to socialize and learn--socialization seems to be my weakest point.
Learning, however, is something I will continue to be doing until that point, with Mt. Sac returning to school next Monday. I only have Math, Literature, and one training course, but I will be tutoring students within the classroom and I'm excited.
And as far as my writing goes, with the bumps and bruises along the way, I have several stories revised and ready to ship out. I've been working on a book, too: It's a sci-fi horror story taking place on a large military ship, called The Neptune. I'm taking it slow, learning the process of writing a much larger story, but I'm having fun doing it (or at least I think I do). My chapters run quite a bit short, but I'm not too worried about it right now; the plot is giving me shivers as I go.
To all those returning to school, good luck, have fun, and drive safely the first few days; being from Mt. Sac, it's easy to see how a parking lot can become a focal point of trauma throughout someone's life.
This would be my first literary festival outside of regular fandom conventions, and the same feeling of mutual appreciation was there, but focused devotedly on writing and literature. I wish I could have returned for Sunday, so next year I'll be sure to clear it up, and come April when Mt Sac. hosts their writer's conference, I'll be there to socialize and learn--socialization seems to be my weakest point.
Learning, however, is something I will continue to be doing until that point, with Mt. Sac returning to school next Monday. I only have Math, Literature, and one training course, but I will be tutoring students within the classroom and I'm excited.
And as far as my writing goes, with the bumps and bruises along the way, I have several stories revised and ready to ship out. I've been working on a book, too: It's a sci-fi horror story taking place on a large military ship, called The Neptune. I'm taking it slow, learning the process of writing a much larger story, but I'm having fun doing it (or at least I think I do). My chapters run quite a bit short, but I'm not too worried about it right now; the plot is giving me shivers as I go.
To all those returning to school, good luck, have fun, and drive safely the first few days; being from Mt. Sac, it's easy to see how a parking lot can become a focal point of trauma throughout someone's life.
Monday, January 7, 2013
2013: Good Vibrations
Being a little late never hurt anyone, or that's at least what I'm told constantly. The holidays went well, and New Years started off on a great note: dental appointments are half-way taken care of, my novella is close to having its first draft completed, and my life is just brimming with positive vibes.
A couple of things are coming up, though. School has once again started at Mt. San Antonio College, so I've been brought back to the Writing-center as a tutor; I'll be working morning shifts, keeping my head in the game of writing. Also, starting next week on Wednesday, I will be out of town at Further Confusion, a fan-driven arts convention in San Jose, California. The event hosts writers, artists, costumers, and musicians, all within the convention-center and adjacent two hotels. I've also submitted one story to the con in their program book; I won't be told if I'm in it until I have the book in my possession and can read my story. If so, I'll bring a few copies home. The convention hosts panels, too, where attendees can learn, instruct, or introduce themselves. I plan to attend several writing ones, just to get names out there and talk shop. The convention lasts until Monday, and is open to the public; however, membership to visit the dealer's hall, panels, shows, and dances is around 50$!
Other than that, I'm keeping life at a low hum of energy. Classes for the next Spring semester start February 25th, and until then I will keep busy by writing, of course, and keeping fit. The family's interested in getting a membership at the YMCA, and I'm all for it--I live better in the swimming pool than I do on dry land. My mail will play host to monthly-or-so care-packages between me and my girlfriend in Florida, so I will also spend time looking through my knick-knacks for various Disney themed trinkets.
The year's started off so well, but let's work towards a brighter tomorrow!
A couple of things are coming up, though. School has once again started at Mt. San Antonio College, so I've been brought back to the Writing-center as a tutor; I'll be working morning shifts, keeping my head in the game of writing. Also, starting next week on Wednesday, I will be out of town at Further Confusion, a fan-driven arts convention in San Jose, California. The event hosts writers, artists, costumers, and musicians, all within the convention-center and adjacent two hotels. I've also submitted one story to the con in their program book; I won't be told if I'm in it until I have the book in my possession and can read my story. If so, I'll bring a few copies home. The convention hosts panels, too, where attendees can learn, instruct, or introduce themselves. I plan to attend several writing ones, just to get names out there and talk shop. The convention lasts until Monday, and is open to the public; however, membership to visit the dealer's hall, panels, shows, and dances is around 50$!
Other than that, I'm keeping life at a low hum of energy. Classes for the next Spring semester start February 25th, and until then I will keep busy by writing, of course, and keeping fit. The family's interested in getting a membership at the YMCA, and I'm all for it--I live better in the swimming pool than I do on dry land. My mail will play host to monthly-or-so care-packages between me and my girlfriend in Florida, so I will also spend time looking through my knick-knacks for various Disney themed trinkets.
The year's started off so well, but let's work towards a brighter tomorrow!
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