To Cure a Restless Mind

The dog next door has taken to barking nonstop at different points of the day. His name is Lucas. He's a tiny little thing, light brown curly fur, with so much of it his eyes are hidden most of the time I've seen him. He has a blue cast on one leg, and you can tell when he's outside because amongst the cute little pitter patter of his feet, there's the occasional thunk of plaster on wood. He's a sweetheart, and whenever I see him with his owner when I'm out and about, I stop to give him a scratch behind the ear.

Sometimes he whines, sometimes he barks. We can hear him from the other side of the kitchen wall. His owner has apologized profusely for the sound. I told her it's okay; dogs will be dogs.

We live on the second floor of our tiny complex. Our neighbors below us are Korean (I used to work with one of them), and I often hear him singing, mostly in the morning just after I step out of the shower  or in the afternoon right before dinner. He has a clear voice that's quite soothing to listen to.

There's a married couple on the ground level that like playing a downsized version of badminton in the tiny parking lot. I've seen them most often at dusk, as the atmosphere makes everything glow orange and red, and when things have calmed from the day. They stand about twelve feet apart, batting the birdie back and forth. The woman is beautiful. She has long black hair that she wears pulled back or in a long braid that reaches to the backs of her knees. Both she and her husband came over to meet Emma's dog once as we were chatting in the parking lot. They are very nice people. Everyone we've met here is.

We hear conversations in Chinese next door on the other side, late into the night. It's those times I wonder how much they can hear from our apartment.

I play music sometimes around midday when I'm making lunch or doing the dishes. My roommate has a laugh that could easily carry through walls. I tend to yell a bit when I get excited about something, as does my roommate. I watch a lot of movies on the DVD player, and I often wonder if the volume is too loud.

In those moments when I sit in our living room, thinking too much about all the things that are happening, the things that are worrying me, I notice these little things. I keep thinking about Harriet the Spy and how Ole Golly was always encouraging Harriet to write down everything she saw if she wanted to be a writer. And yes, Harriet was spying on people. But what she came to realize was that as a writer, she was less of a spy and more of an observer. It's the little things that you notice, how everyone has their own way of eating tacos, for instance, or the strange things people put into their shopping carts at the grocery store.* The way light comes through the window in the early morning, how people talk to one another in church as opposed to how they interact at a party or in intimate conversation. It's anything and everything about growing up and living in a new town or in your own hometown. The smell of your grandparents house, or the memories that float in the back of your mind without explanation. It's making sense of how crazy life seems at two in the morning or when your emotions are so overwrought and wrung out you're not sure where to go. As writers, as artists, as people, we are always noticing things. It's proof of the complexity of life, how things are continuously changing, and how it goes on.

We are observers of the world, of the unique life experiences we have. All we need to do is notice them. It's one reason we're compelled to create. We're always on the search for some kind of understanding.


*A few weeks ago, I saw a man pushing a cart entirely full of chicken. I think they might have been leg/thigh combinations.

Top of the World Without Flashlights

On the day of graduation back in May, after a rousing and hilarious game of Apples to Apples, my roommates and I and the remainder of our party guests decided to go to Top of the World* so that Abbey, Emma, and I could see it before we were "officially done" with undergraduate. So, we piled into two cars and followed Amanda up the hill to the outlook point.

Top of the World, if I'm explaining correctly, is a scenic outlook at the top of the tallest point in Manhattan. The hill can easily be identified by 'MANHATTAN' in very large letters that has been put into the side of the hill. Visitors can sit and observe the view from the letters, or take various trails that lead down the hill. The night of graduation was the first time I'd ever been there, so I was especially excited though I knew that it was probably the last time I'd get to spend time with Abbey before she left for Chicago.

Once we'd parked and realized that we'd forgotten flashlights--it was after dark--Amanda led us to the Manhattan sign, were there were two couples enjoying the view,** and we took a moment to enjoy the city at night, from Wal-Mart over to the other side of Tuttle Creek Boulevard.

"There's another place that I should show you, c'mon," Amanda said, leading us back up the path and into brush.

My phone was my only light source, and as soon as she headed what seemed in the dark as off the path, I got really nervous. Regardless, I followed Heidi and everyone else down another short path and up onto a wide expanse of concrete surrounded by trees. Here, we couldn't really see a good view of Manhattan because of all the trees, but we could see the stars. Granted, we couldn't see a lot because of the lights from the city, but there were a few that shone brightly enough for us to catch a glimpse of them.

There was a rustling in the brush bordering our viewpoint. Then there were noises. My scaredy-cat side thought we were minutes away from being attacked.

"Are you okay?" I asked Heidi, who was nearby.

"Yeah."

The others became louder. Emma and Amanda scoffed at the sounds, and Abbey was jumping around. Alisha was talking about Darren Criss. I stepped closer to Heidi.

"Seriously?!" I finally called out. It wasn't funny anymore. "This is immature. We are in college. GOD."

Amanda came over to me and placed her hands on my shoulders. "Heather, it's just those jerks we interrupted earlier. We are not going to be attacked. They got mad that we interrupted their make out session, and they're trying to get back at us."

"I KNOW," I shrieked. "But I have an overactive imagination that's going crazy right now. This is why I can't handle horror movies."

We made our way back to the outlook point by the parking lot, giggling, talking, and making jokes while trying to soak up every last delicious moment of what had been an amazing, wonderful day. It had been, truly, the best day, and as curfew came at 11pm, I was devastated that it was over. We said goodbyes to Abbey, exchanged hugs with one another and went our separate ways.

This summer, as far as I can remember, was probably the one that went by the fastest. I read a lot, worked, fine tuned my resume, applied for a few jobs. Packed. Moved into a wonderful little apartment that puts the Tiny Blue Room to shame a hundred times over. Classes have been in session for about two weeks, and it's been so incredibly strange not to be going on to campus. As I wait to hear from the jobs I applied for, I am trying to keep my head in the mindset of what I want to accomplish. Graduation day was so long ago, but it feels like it just happened. I'm thankful for the break, but I know I'll be ready to get back into the groove once graduate school gets here.

How strange time is.


*To this day, I'm not sure if it's officially called Top of the World or Manhattan Hill. For the sake of continuity in this post, I'm going to refer to it as Top of the World.

**They were making out. We were being loud. It was awkward.

Treading and Geraniums

When my upstairs roomie came back from work today, I greeted her with a big smile and threw my arms out. "I AM MAKING US DINNER," I announced.

She gave me a worried look.

"What?" I asked her, my smile falling. "Seriously, it'll be good. And it'll use up some of the stuff from the freezer so we don't have to move it next month. I called my mom and she gave me a recipe suggestion."

Her face didn't change at all.

Ultimately, I screwed up the baked potatoes. I forgot to poke them, and they were still a little hard in the middle. I had to reheat mine in the microwave. The chicken was kind of dry (though I encounter this problem whenever I heat up/bake chicken), but the salsa and seasonings tasted all right. My roomie didn't say anything about how she felt about the meal, only answering with an indifferent "fine" when I asked her how the chicken was.

I came out of the experience knowing that my roomie thought my cooking skills were appalling.* But I suppose it doesn't matter that much.

I leave the Tiny Blue Room in a month and a half. The room after the Tiny Blue Room will likely be the same size or even smaller. I don't trust my memory of how big the room really is. It will be, after all, a mere corner of the apartment I'm moving into with my roommate. There is much I have yet to pare down, and it's already halfway through June.

Another of my roomies, Amanda, brought me back a geranium from her work a few weeks ago. She works in a flower shop and has been bringing back ferns, flower arrangements, and just today, a Venus fly trap, for us to enjoy and care for. I was excited about the geranium. I've been trying not to over-water it and pulling off the browning leaves every few days. When we move, I want to put it just outside our door so it can enjoy the fresh air. 

Life after something so ingrained is almost bizarre. Everything seems so much more domestic, much more alien to the senses. The plants need to be watered. Walking the dog doesn't have to be a chore. Cooking is suddenly something that can actually be done, most of the time, but mostly it seems nearly impossible. Time between, before, and after work shifts must be used wisely. Evenings have become open. What is this strange stasis I've found myself in?

The crazy thing is that it's not really a stasis at all. It's more transitionary. I'm trying to adjust myself to the schedule of a graduate. A lot of my college friends have moved: Crystal is in Indiana, Whitney and Abbey in Illinois, others have or soon will be returning to their respective hometowns or new homes in far off places. I've just started the job search and will soon be diving into the grad school application process. Time seems to work differently, now. Things don't work per semester in the real world. I wonder if it's more by season, or perhaps the days meld together in one big clump and the only way to know the date is by the weather when you leave for your lunch break.

I know I'll be glad to get back into the learning mode whenever I start grad school. But for now, I'll enjoy writing, drawing, and adjusting to this new life. Especially evenings like tonight, in which Amanda suggests making pina coladas and indulging in both chips and salsa and mint chocolate chip ice cream. Which, of course, is a delicious combination.



*With that being said, another of my roomies tried the chicken and liked it. When I make the recipe again, I'll know what to do and what not to do.

Resolutions Revisited

So, as soon as I posted my resolutions the other day, I realize that I forgot a couple that I had wanted to add. Anyway, the addendum:

15. I want to cook more, and get more creative with it. Mostly my dinners consist of Kraft dinner or a serving of pasta topped with Alfredo sauce and mozzarella cheese. I need to allow more room for creativity and healthy eating.

16. I have a lot of books on my bookshelf that I haven't yet read. I need to have read--or at least attempt to read--every book I own by the end of the year. I need to allow myself the time to read as well, because I'm really bad about that.

17. Write more ideas down, regardless of whether they're drawing- or writing-related. I used to be really good with this, but somehow my little notebook wasn't always with me last year...and the few ideas that I was really excited about disappeared into the void.

I know I probably have forgotten a couple more. If and when they come back to me, I'll write them down. Anyhoo.

Also, I will post about Mockingjay in the next couple of days. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to post it; I needed time for it to sink in before I could really write about it. I'm thinking the thoughtbox will be a little different than the ones I've done before because I just have so many feelings about the book... But it will be up soon. I promise.

Resolutions for 2012

When I sit down to write out my resolutions, I tend to look over the previous year's to construct the new list, adding things here and there. Thus.

1. Control the amount of money I spend on music. Last year I resolved to not buy any more music until I had every Beatles album, and I failed miserably. I think it might be a good idea to stick to that same resolution again. No other music until I have completed my Beatles discography. 
2. By the end of 2012, I have to have gone through everything I own--both at home and in the Tiny Blue Room--and gotten rid of all that I don't need any more. Clothes should be taken to Goodwill or Habitat for Humanity, books should be taken to The Dusty Bookshelf, and music and movies should be taken to somewhere that will take them and sell them again. I've been too lax in the control of my hoarding, and I need to buckle down. A massive "spring cleaning" is needed. 
3. Better scheduling and following of deadlines. This is one of the things I have the most trouble with. 
4. Journal/freewrite/write everyday, even if it's only 15 minutes. 
5. Finish writing the novel I started for Nanowrimo 2011. 
6. Complete Nanowrimo 2012 in November.
7. Budget better so that I can start saving a little money. 
8. Try to cut down on the amount of pointless internet surfing that I do. 
9. Get applications for grad school sent out. Take the time to go through picking schools to apply to. 
10. Organize my music, books, and artwork.
11. Make more work, and try to work through any artistic block that may arise. 
12. Try not to get so angry with my roommates...because that was another huge problem for me last year.
13. Professionalize my wardrobe so that I'm ready for the upcoming changes that will accompany my upcoming graduation. 
14. As my sister pointed out to me, I need to allow myself more time to relax and de-stress. 

One of Those Cliche End of 2011 Posts...

I think this year was one of the only years that I slept soundly Christmas Eve. I woke up once during the night when I heard the ringing of a bell, and though I knew it was not what I thought it was, there was a brief moment in which I wondered if, after all those years, I'd finally had some kind of evidence of Santa Claus. The semi-concious mind is a fascinating thing.

A lot has happened in the last year. I became a proud godmother. I have settled into the Tiny Blue Room. I read some of my poetry in Pittsburgh, PA, where Jessica, Kelsey, Laura and I hung out with other English majors, basked in all things English-y, and ate sandwiches topped with french fries. I discovered a lot about drawing and what it means to me personally and in my work. I've thought a lot about the future, and in the process learned a lot about myself and how I want to live my life. I went to see the final HP movie with my sister and my best friends. I was sorted into Ravenclaw on Pottermore. I tried my hand at nonfiction and found another mode of expression that I connected to, learning many things about myself in the process. I completed the requirements for both my French minor and English major. I am three art classes away from graduation. And I started this blog.

I have a lot of thoughts. But now is not the time.

Favorite Books Read in 2011

• Anna and the French Kiss by Stephanie Perkins
• The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky
• The Sky Is Everywhere by Jandy Nelson
• The Invention of Hugo Cabret by Brian Selznick

The Jury Is Still Out Award 2011

• Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins (Thoughtbox coming soon...)
• I Kissed A Girl, 3x07 of Glee

Favorite Glee Episodes Aired in 2011

• Silly Love Songs 2x12
• Born This Way 2x18
• Prom Queen 2x20
• I Am Unicorn 3x02
• Asian F 3x03
• The First Time 3x05

The Television Cool Point Award 2011

• Every single episode of Modern Family, one of my favorite shows ever. 
• The First Time, for many reasons.

Favorite Movies 

• Super 8
• Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2
• Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows

Music (does not mean it has to have been released this year...)

• Florence + The Machine, "Ceremonials"
• Alanis Morissette, "Jagged Little Pill"
• Madonna, "Madonna"
• Lady Gaga, "Born This Way"
• Coldplay, "A Rush of Blood to the Head"
• Panic! At The Disco, "Vices and Virtues"
• Freelance Whales, "Weathervanes"
• Jessie J, "Who You Are"
• Adele, both "19" and "21"

See you in 2012. I'm off to knit and continue with my Glee marathon to ring in the New Year.

Little Known Fact #3

I am extremely self-concious about many things: my writing, my drawings, my "cartoon fingers" (as one of my best friends once affectionately called them), my social skills, etc. The thing I am most self-concious about, however, is my chubbiness and my weight.

When my grandparents (Dad's parents) were still alive and we would make our annual trip up to Michigan, there was one summer in which some local boys would come to the park just across the block from my grandparents' house and harass my sister and I. They yelled, "Chunk-EE, Chunky Soup!" at me. I had never met them before, and we were only ever in Michigan for a week or two each year.

There was at least one girl in my class in Junior High who consistently referred to me as "Heifer". Up until that time, I had been called "fat" or "fatso."

Almost every time I go shopping for clothes, some kind of disaster arises.

When I was in second grade, I really, really wanted to become a gymnast (as the Olympics were being held in Atlanta, GA that year). Mom had found a simple body suit-type thing that resembled a gymnastic unitard for me, and I was so thrilled to have something to practice my "sweet routines" in. I was so excited about this outfit that I put it on and ran down to our-neighbors'-down-the-block's house to show Audrey, the oldest girl of the family and the one I remember wanting to impress the most. She was sitting on the stoop of another neighbor's house with Amy, who was in high school. When I ran up to them, Audrey looked up at me, and burst out laughing.

"What?" I asked shyly, my face falling. "What's so funny?"

She doubled up even more, her blond ringlets framing her face. "Nothing--" she tried catching her breath--"The dog peed." I don't remember how Amy reacted. She seems to fade into the memory.

I think I knew in that moment that Audrey was lying.

When I walked into my boss's office earlier this evening to get a band-aid for my thumb, and stood there talking with her and one of my coworkers, my boss turned to me.

"Heather, you were doing so good on that diet you were on last year. You should get back on it. You were loosing all that weight..."

I clammed up and busied myself with trying to get the finger cot I'd pulled out of the first aid kit over the band-aid and the rest of my thumb.

"Is that a touchy subject?" she asked.

I sighed. "Yeah..."

She may not have meant it the way I took it. I don't know. My reaction, however, was truth: this single interchange and the little discussion that followed it made me want to curl up in a distant corner and cry.

A Two-Parter Ramble

I'm going to borrow a segue technique from John and Hank Green, the Vlogbrothers, who happen to be my favorite YouTube people (and the only ones I regularly watch). So, without further ado, this post comes in two parts.

Part One: Being Home


Last weekend was the first weekend since June that I was able to spend more than just 24 hours with my family. Heidi and I coordinated our visit so we'd have a weekend where all four of us (Heidi, Mom, Dad, and I) were in the same house. It was far too short of a weekend.

I'll be honest: I did not get a lot of homework done when I was home. For some reason, my motivation shuts off whenever I'm there, as if every visit is a vacation for me. The only thing I actually accomplished was watching online lectures for Art History, which I made my sister watch with me. She spent the entirety of them playing with Naomi, one of our cats, and playing on the Facebook Sims.

Regardless, the weekend was wonderful. Heidi and I watched a TON of movies:

• Wild Target, with Bill Nighy, Emily Blunt, and Rupert Grint. This movie is HILARIOUS. There's just something magical about British comedy that American comedy has a hard time living up to for me. Perhaps that's too cruel for me to say, but I really believe that. Now I just need to hunt down a copy for myself....
• Take Me Home Tonight with Topher Grace, Anna Faris, and Teresa Palmer. The movie was pretty funny, and I liked the touches of '80s culture included. Two things, though: first, I'm not a big fan of Dan Fogler (see above for a watered-down version of my thoughts on American comedy). Second, while I really appreciate what the movie's simple plot was trying to accomplish, I felt that Adventureland, which focuses on a similar kind of post-college state of wandering, was much more successful--and thorough in the journey of the protagonist--in conveying it. The holes in characters and the plot irritated me to no end. Overall, though, it was fun. I thought Topher Grace and Anna Faris topped themselves. 
• Jane Eyre, with Mia Wasikowska and Michael Fassbender. LOVE. I would cross oceans for this movie. No joke. 
• Crazy, Stupid, Love., with Steve Carrell and Julianne Moore. There were plenty of romantic comedy cliches, cheesy writing, and an almost completely predictable outcome for the characters. It was, however, very funny, and surprising at times. I loved Robbie, the son ("I love you. Please."); Jessica, the babysitter (her characterization/subplot was amazing); Hannah and Jacob's relationship (so funny and so tender, and it helps that I love both Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling). Little surprises all around. Plus, Josh Groban makes an appearance. 

The four of us took a mini-daytrip to Beatrice, where we scoured the $5 bin at Wal-Mart and returned with a large stack of bargain CDs between us. I met up with Maggie on Sunday for dinner to catch up with her and Emi, who's eyes are still as big and happy as they were when I saw her last at the end of May. She is adorable and I feel incredibly proud to be her godmother. Meanwhile, I joked around and talked music with Dad, spent time with Mom, filling her in on classes and such. Heidi and I cruised twice around town, blaring music from our iPods and pouring out our hearts about the things in our lives that were simultaneously important and heartbreaking in some form or another. There's something incredibly therapeutic about sharing this with my sister. I remember when Dad and his brother Rod would go cruising when we were little; there was a reason we were never allowed to join them--that was their time to share. Nothing but music, conversation, and honest heart-pouring. Those moments are special to me, more than I can put into words.

Part Two: Two Concerns and Many Feelings


First, I grow more and more wary of the future each day. I have no idea where I'll be at this time next year (and I feel the time swiftly slipping away from me). I do want to go to graduate school, but call it laziness or being too busy, I haven't looked into anything yet. There are so many feelings that I can't yet articulate, and I know I just have to push them and the worry aside and get the ball rolling so I don't waste any time. I know it will work out in the end. I mean, I do have time, and there are a few other things I've put on my educational bucket list (more travel, a writing fellowship, etc.) that are also on the timeline. I just need to sit down, make lists, prepare applications, take the GRE, and write.


Second, I noticed something when I was at dinner with Maggie on Sunday, and it's been hanging over my head since then, amplified from what it was before. I don't remember the exact train of our conversation or what prompted me to say it, but at one point, I made an off-hand comment that was along the lines of, "Well, if and when I ever get married and have kids..." Maggie, who was in the process of trying to keep Emi occupied (she was being fussy), laughed a little and looked up at me.

"You never know; if [so-and-so] got married, anyone can." Or something like that.

I feel like sometimes I let my cynicism about marriage get out of hand. No matter how hard I try to remain neutral concerning me and marriage, I feel like I always sound so bitter about it, as if I bring it up just so I can beat it to death over and over again, which is not my intention at all. It's not that I don't believe in it--because I really, really do--but part of me honestly feels like I won't ever get married, that God does not mean me to be.

Amanda gets really mad at me when I start talking like this. "God meant for you to be a mother," she says, speaking with a firm tone and looking me directly in the eye. "You have to have confidence in yourself. He has someone for you." My argument (which I feel is just as sound) is that maybe God does not have this planned for me, that I'm meant for something different. So, shouldn't I have trust that He knows what's best for me? Everything happens for a reason.

Thing is, I haven't dated in over four years. Most people my age are at a point where they are settling down. Facebook seems to magnify a pressure that doesn't really exist that I am desperately behind the times. I'm not socially comfortable enough to be able to use whatever "flirting protocol" is required to date, and of the two guys I had some sort of more-than-friends-type feelings for, one flat-out told me he'd never date me because I reminded him too much of his ex, and the other was only at K-State for a semester and I never understood what was going on with my relationship with him, anyway. When I go out to the bars with friends, I'm the one who stands just off to the side watching as my friends get hit on and the guys in question giving me that "Who are you?" look in the few times they break eye-contact with the object of their affection.

The last time I talked with Nate about dating, he suggested online dating sites. I shot down that idea almost immediately.

My ex-boyfriend (the only one I've had) told me four years ago that I was "too perfect." I'm still not sure what that had to do with our relationship and why we ended up in the mess we did.

My heart is much too invested in this complicated thing I've found myself in. And I have to understand that in no way am I supposed to find someone at this very moment; I have all the time in the world, if that is indeed what I'm meant to have in my life. Brandi, bless her heart, encourages me to embrace my single status (as, we joke, Jason Derulo does in the song). And I try. As I try to gain and maintain the confidence Amanda has urged me to find. Sometimes, though, the feelings get too heavy. I just wish things made more sense, sometimes. I can't spend the rest of my life dwelling on these things, you know?

So when my bitterness seemed to creep into my conversation with Maggie on Sunday, I felt awful that I ruined the mood of the conversation. I did not want her to think I was rude, or against anything related to it. It was just me, feeling too much, getting caught up in them and letting some slip away, becoming entangled in it.

First Week Thoughts

Right now my thoughts are pretty foggy.

My art history class is going to have a different format than I'm used to. I've had the professor for two other art history classes, and the way he's structured the class in the past is with lecture from which we will take notes in class. I've been pretty happy with that format. I'm an incessant note-taker, and it gave me a chance to take a lot of notes and therefore keep up with what he was saying. This semester, however, he has split the class in half. One group will meet on Tuesdays, the other on Thursdays. On class days, we will be doing in-class activities/presentations based on the lectures and activities we had to do online throughout the week.

Part of me is excited about this format; the professor talked through some of the goals of the in-class activities, including some practice with writing criticism/analyses and artist statements in relation to what we're talking about. The other part is worried. I'm not yet sure what that worry is in response to (though I have a feeling it's not just about one thing). I'm giving it two weeks before I have an opinion about it.

Drawing 3 does not seem as scary as it was last fall. We're starting with a focus on observational drawing. I did a drawing of my cell phone yesterday in class--unfinished, because we only had an hour and the instruction was to make the object we chose as observed as possible. I'm also waiting to have an opinion until I've attended more sessions, but right now I'm feeling good about it. This is good news considering how close I am to developing and putting up my BFA show. I know it will be challenging--incredibly so--but I feel positive.

I know I'm going to love my Intro to French Lit 2 class. We're reading a great variety of literature from the Middle Ages (Le Moyen Age en francais) to the 1700s. I'm stoked; I haven't read a lot of literature from the time period yet, so it will be something different and exciting. The best and also the most nerve-wracking part of it is that because it is a language course, the class is entirely in French. We're reading these classic French works in French (some of which has been translated into the modern French from the original Old French). Mind = blown. My worry, however, is that it's going to become overwhelming. My French vocabulary is not very good at the moment (I'm working on it), and it might take me awhile to get into the swing of reading in addition to our class discussion. I'm so excited for it, but I know it's going to take a lot of work.

Finally, there is Advanced Creative Non-Fiction, a class that will also be a challenge. I have a lot of feelings about this class, and they are all good. I can't wait to be back in the swing of writing again, especially because I haven't done a lot of non-fiction writing. I write fiction and poetry, so this is definitely going to be a different kind of experience and will give me the chance to expand on my knowledge in and of creative writing. I want to do it justice, though. I don't want to fall into a pattern of embellishment and exaggeration. I was so worried about not being able to remember everything--something I'm convinced is impossible to achieve. What if I couldn't produce anything that is able to capture what I want to say? One can't "make stuff up." We had to read a couple of short essays discussing the genre itself--which is much more varied than I ever imagined: essay, travel writing, literary journalism, memoir, cultural criticism, food writing, and so on. Mind = Blown. In that chunk of reading, I gained more enthusiasm and excitement for trying out the genre then I'd ever thought I'd have. There was something, too, that my professor said yesterday in class that soothed my concerns. I don't remember her exact words, but it was something along the lines of: "be truthful to the memory as you remember it." I think I wrote it down in my notes from yesterday; I'll look it up and post it, because it really struck me.

Perhaps I worry too much.


Edit 25 Aug: I have written in my notes (probably not word-for-word): "be true to the memory as you have it." Another thing I wrote down that struck me as interesting is "silence is a power in literature." Also, "verity."