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Posts Tagged ‘truths’

I’m stealing borrowing this idea from Writing Like Crazy.  She posted ten reasons why she writes and it got me thinking, why do I like to write?  Of course there are the obvious reasons: living vicariously through another person, control, and simple pleasure.  But I wanted to figure out why it is I find so much joy in this one simple act that can be down right frustrating and depressing (depending on the writing day I’m having).

1) One day I hope to make money at it.  Now any writer knows, if this is your sole purpose behind putting pen to paper, then you aren’t going to last long, but, on the other hand, I would enjoy making a decent living off my writing alone.  None of this working a whole other job just so I can make ends meet.  I mean, another job would seriously cut into my writing time.

2) I’ve been told I’m a brilliant writer.  It may sound petty, but it’s true.  My Psych 102 professor actually announced this to the entire class, thus embarrassing me to no end.  Whenever I’m feeling down or want to give up, I remember this.  It was the moment when I made the turn from just daydreaming about becoming a writer, to seriously considering it.

3) I like the clickety-clack noise the keys make when I hit them.  My brothers and sisters make fun of me because I type so fast.  One of my sister says it sounds just like the fake typing in the movies, but nobody else really sounds like that.  I thought this was funny because I thought everybody sounded the same when they typed.  I guess it shows what I  know.

4) I get to spend a vast part of the process alone.  This may not sound very appealing to others, but for me this couldn’t be more perfect.  I don’t really work well with others and not in the I don’t-get-along with them sense.  I just don’t bother sharing my thoughts or opinions.  I have a terrible tendency to keep to myself, plus I’m painfully shy.

5) I get to be creative.  I cannot stress just how important this is to me.  Even though I had no trouble in school, I never really enjoyed it and I think it’s sad we don’t put more emphasis on creativity.  After all it helps critical thinking skills, something we want college graduates to have, but most importantly, being creative helps me feel less like a robot and more like a real person.  Sometimes I forget what feelings are until I start playing with my characters.

6) After hours, days, weeks, months and years of working on something, when it’s finished I can print it out and hold it in my hands.  This may not sound important to some people, but when compared to all the work I do at my office, it gets kind of depressing that I’m not really producing anything in the end.  At least nothing worthwhile.  A story can always be read and has beginning, middle and end.

7) The warm fuzzy feeling I get when people connect with my characters.  Nothing feels better than somebody telling you that they cried when so-and-so died, or they laughed when your MC discovered the large rat in his room was only doggie toy.

8) The challenge.  Anybody can write a book.  It takes another type of person to write a good book and an even different type of person to write a great book.  A novel is never perfect, but the challenge of finding as many plot-holes, character inconsistencies, and passive verbs makes writing even more fun.  Sometimes, out sheer frustration, I come up with an even better way to solve the problem than I began with.  Philip Pullman said he isn’t done working out his plots until the MS is on the shelves because then it is too late. I have a feeling I’m gonna be the same way.

9) I don’t think I would be very good at anything else.  No, seriously I don’t think I would.  My mind doesn’t focus long enough for me to be effective at anything, plus most professions I’ve been interested involve far too much stress, think doctor, attorney, or school teacher.  The only other thing I think I would be successful at is being a mother and my mom is one of those.  I don’t think she likes it.

And the final reason on why I write…

10) I like taking other authors characters and have them do what I want.  Don’t look at me that way, you know we all do it.  We’re writers, we can’t help ourselves.  I actually enjoy starting a story out with a set of characters from other things, like anime, manga, novels, movies…anything.  Then I place them in a world of my creation and see what happens.  Eventually, the characters grow and morph into entirely new beings, but in the process, I get to explore some of the themes the author may have touched on, but didn’t really go into too much.  It’s actually a great jump in starting the creative process.

So now that you all know the controlling, manipulative, introverted monster that I am.  Let me know what kind of monstrous writer you are.  What are some of the reasons you write?  Is it for love? The pure joy?  Being able to kill that frienemy without going to prison?  I would like to know.

You know what, I’m actually feeling a bit inspired.  I think I’m going to find my pencil.  I think I left it in the middle of my t.v. after Glee ended their Britney episode with a Paramore number.  Blasphemy I say.

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Okay, now that people have had time to decide whether they think I’m really a liar or not I will reveal the truth.

1.  As the youngest sibling of four children, my parents let me do whatever I wanted, including roam around our five acre lot unsupervised.  So when my mother would come looking for me I would hide up in the old pepper tree and pretend I couldn’t hear her.  I did this so often that our neighbor’s bird would call out my name throughout the day, along with some very colorful words it had picked up from my father.

False. While it is true that I lived on five acres and my mother let me roam around freely I am not the youngest of four children.  I’m actually the fourth child of eight and while there is a bird across the street from parent’s house who mimics the not so gentle vocabulary of my father, the name the bird calls is not mine, but my youngest brother’s, who like my older sister, has an affinity for running from my mom and hiding in the pepper tree.

2.  Most children learn to tie their shoes by the end of kindergarten, but I was stubborn.  I didn’t understand why, with the invention of velcro, anybody would ever need to learn to tie one’s shoes.  It was quick, it was easy, and it was also embarrassing by the time I hit sixth grade.  So I did what any kid would do in my situation and I gave into peer pressure.  Imagine my parent’s shock when their eleven year old confessed she still didn’t know how to tie her own shoes and she needed them to show her how.

False. I actually learned to tie my shoes long before I even started school.  My two older brothers and sister could all tie theirs and I hated waiting for my parents to tie mine.  So one morning I woke up.  Carried my shoes out to the living room and spent the day figuring out how to tie my shoes all by myself.  My mother still laughs at my stubborn refusal for help.

3.  In my second year of college I ditched my last class of the day to go out on a date with a very cute boy.  We had a great time and we even returned to the college parking lot fifteen minutes before my class let out.  While we were standing by his car talking, my father and my ex-boyfriend both showed up looking for me because the gas light had been on in the car and I hadn’t returned home yet.  The cute boy of course left, but not before seeing my ex walk over to me and try to kiss me.  The next time I saw the boy I explained what had happened without much hope of a second date.  Even I thought the story sounded ludicrous.  A few weeks after the incident in the parking lot, the boy asked me out again.  Apparently the story was too ridiculous not to believe and we’ve been dating ever since.

True. Surprisingly this one is true.  There had been many times I didn’t come home after class and my parents never came looking for me.  To make it worse, my little sister kept telling my father that I shouldn’t even be out yet, but he wouldn’t listen to her.  Apparently my father then called up my ex-boyfriend who freaked out too and then got jealous when he saw me with someone else.  I’m just thankful that my boyfriend believed me.  We’ve now been together for almost four years.

4.  When I was really small I idolized my oldest brother, not just to the point where he could do no wrong, but to the point where I utterly believed he was invincible.  At first my parents thought it was cute and my brother laughed away my admiration, but I had a really vivid imagination even then and the idea of him being invincible turned into a theory that he was made of stone.  I quickly decided to act upon this new idea and I did it the only way I knew how; by testing it out.  At first I used small things for my experiment, like toys and other tiny objects I could throw.  Then, whenever my brother walked by, I would chuck them as hard as I could.  He would just turn, smile and walk away confirming what I had suspected.  Eventually I grew weary of fire tactics and began using bigger objects, like my wooden rocking chair and metal baseball bats.  My brother wasn’t quite as good natured about me running up and slugging him as hard as I could with the crowbar I found outside, but he still remained unharmed.  Determined to prove once and for that my theory was indeed correct, I snuck up on my brother with two eight pound weights in my hands and dropped them on his head.  Let’s just say I learned my brother wasn’t indestructible that day.

False. Okay so Cat got this one, but there is a twist.  I did idolize my older brother and I even had a special nickname for him, Rat-bones, but I never thought he was made of stone.  No that honor goes to my first little brother.  And the person getting hit wasn’t my oldest brother, it was me.  To make it worse, I wasn’t sleeping the day my little brother dropped the weights on my head, I had just finished dressing my baby sister and was playing with her on the floor when two dumbbells fell from the ceiling crushing my skull.  In his defense he never bludgeoned me with a crowbar, only everything else.

5.  My neighbor used to suck her thumb all the time.  She even had a blanket she would carry around with her when she did and whenever my mother babysat her she would bring it.  One day, while my mother was watching us, my sister and I decided to play a game.  Since our neighbor was pretty gullible we decided to pretend we were calling the cops on her for sucking her thumb.  We told her she would be arrested and her blanket would be taken away.  She didn’t believe us though, even when we took the phone in the back of the house off the receiver and pretended to dial 911 on the other phone.  I even tried acting like the operator, but it didn’t work, so I hung up the back phone.  Of course my sister thought I was still on the other end and dialed 911 one more time.  When the real operator answered the phone my sister slammed the receiver down and the neighbor girl  ran out of the house.  Hours passed before we saw a police car pull into our driveway and we heard a knock on the door.  My sister and I tried to hide under our covers, but our mother found us and made us go to the door and explain what happened to the officer.   The lecture he gave us was nothing compared to what our mother did to us after he left.  The neighbor girl had been long gone by this time and she never came back over again.  Looking back now I can’t really say that I blame her.

False. I was never that mean as a kid, but my sister and the neighbor girl were.  I was really the blanket carrying thumb sucker in this story and when they “accidently” called the police on me I ran and hid out in the barn with my blanky until the sun went down.  At least our pony didn’t seem to mind that I sucked my thumb.

6.  I am an adventurous person.  I always have been.  Even my favorite cartoon shows were about adventure.  Batman, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and Darkwing Duck.  I even watched He-Man.  And like many children I liked to reenact my favorite parts.  My mother found this humorous for the most part, that is until the day she loaded me into the car, buckled me in and told me we were going to pick my brothers up from school.  As she pulled out of our driveway I unbuckled my seatbelt, opened the door and shouted “I have the power!” before I proceeded to jump out of the car and roll into the bushes.  At the same time my mother hit a small bump.  I have to say it was one of the few times she wasn’t that happy to find me alive.

False. I think the first sentence of this lie is the biggest lie I’ve ever told.  I am one of the least adventurous people you will ever meet and I have always been that way.  One time my parents had me drive up the Sequoia’s in their f-150 truck, which is a stick shift, and I cried the whole way up, much to my sister’s displeasure.  I did love those cartoons though.   And who was the person who jumped out of the car and rolled into the bushes?  Well that was my second oldest brother who thought it was hilarious.

7.  In highschool I was a top student.  I did my work, turned it in on time and even participated in school sports.  But sometimes, I hate to admit, I would get lazy and I would look for ways to make homework and classwork easier and less time consuming.  One class I did this in was my freshman Biology class.  Our teacher had us keep a notebook and we would answer the questions at the end of each lesson and do the chapter tests in said notebook.  Well I decided that he didn’t really read our answers so I quit answering the end of the chapter lessons.  I would just write down the question so it looked like I had done the work.  Time went on and I didn’t get caught, so I decided to push it even further and not answer the questions for the end of the chapter tests.  Afterall, I was saving so much more time by just repeating the questions.  The day after we turned in our notebooks for check, my teacher came into class and held up a plain black notebook.  My heart raced and he opened it up so the entire class could see the hasty scribbles inside.  He then informed the class of my not so brilliant idea and announced that he does read our notebooks and if anyone else tried to cut corners they would receive an “F”.  He didn’t tell the class whose notebook he had, but it was embarrassing all the same.  Worse still, he called me into his office and gave me even more work to makeup for what I had done.  So much for saving time.

False. I was a top student and I played sports in highschool. I even lettered my freshman year, but when I decided to “make life easier for myself” I was never stupid about it.  My biology teacher loved me and would even brag about me to the other honor biology class.  Little did he know that I wasn’t always an honest student.  I watched him grade the notebooks one day and realized the only thing he graded were the tests at the end of the chapter, so that was the only thing I actually did in my notebook.  If he would have taken the time just to peruse my other work, he would have realized I just repeated the sentences.  I did feel sorry for the poor girl who didn’t realize how he graded the notebooks.  I wonder if she passed….

So there you have it.  My six lies and one truth.  Oh, and I know I said I would announce the six people I am passing the award onto, but I think I’m going to explore just a little longer before I do that.  Sorry.

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Alright, so I have been nominated by fellow creative writer Cat Woods for Lesa’s “Creative Writer” blogger award.  Keeping with the rules I have pasted the award to my post and have come up with either six truths and one lie, or six lies and one truth.

Since I am new to the writing/blogging community I decided this would be a great opportunity for me to introduce myself without judgment because after only five days and three posts I”ve already been spotted for the liar I am.  So without further ado here are my six lies or truths.

1.  As the youngest sibling of four children, my parents let me do whatever I wanted, including roam around our five acre lot unsupervised.  So when my mother would come looking for me I would hide up in the old pepper tree and pretend I couldn’t hear her.  I did this so often that our neighbor’s bird would call out my name throughout the day, along with some very colorful words it had picked up from my father.

2.  Most children learn to tie their shoes by the end of kindergarten, but I was stubborn.  I didn’t understand why, with the invention of velcro, anybody would ever need to learn to tie one’s shoes.  It was quick, it was easy, and it was also embarrassing by the time I hit sixth grade.  So I did what any kid would do in my situation and I gave into peer pressure.  Imagine my parent’s shock when their eleven year old confessed she still didn’t know how to tie her own shoes and she needed them to show her how.

3.  In my second year of college I ditched my last class of the day to go out on a date with a very cute boy.  We had a great time and we even returned to the college parking lot fifteen minutes before my class let out.  While we were standing by his car talking, my father and my ex-boyfriend both showed up looking for me because the gas light had been on in the car and I hadn’t returned home yet.  The cute boy of course left, but not before seeing my ex walk over to me and try to kiss me.  The next time I saw the boy I explained what had happened without much hope of a second date.  Even I thought the story sounded ludicrous.  A few weeks after the incident in the parking lot, the boy asked me out again.  Apparently the story was too ridiculous not to believe and we’ve been dating ever since.

4.  When I was really small I idolized my oldest brother, not just to the point where he could do no wrong, but to the point where I utterly believed he was invincible.  At first my parents thought it was cute and my brother laughed away my admiration, but I had a really vivid imagination even then and the idea of him being invincible turned into a theory that he was made of stone.  I quickly decided to act upon this new idea and I did it the only way I knew how; by testing it out.  At first I used small things for my experiment, like toys and other tiny objects I could throw.  Then, whenever my brother walked by, I would chuck them as hard as I could.  He would just turn, smile and walk away confirming what I had suspected.  Eventually I grew weary of fire tactics and began using bigger objects, like my wooden rocking chair and metal baseball bats.  My brother wasn’t quite as good natured about me running up and slugging him as hard as I could with the crowbar I found outside, but he still remained unharmed.  Determined to prove once and for that my theory was indeed correct, I snuck up on my brother with two eight pound weights in my hands and dropped them on his head.  Let’s just say I learned my brother wasn’t indestructible that day.

5.  My neighbor used to suck her thumb all the time.  She even had a blanket she would carry around with her when she did and whenever my mother babysat her she would bring it.  One day, while my mother was watching us, my sister and I decided to play a game.  Since our neighbor was pretty gullible we decided to pretend we were calling the cops on her for sucking her thumb.  We told her she would be arrested and her blanket would be taken away.  She didn’t believe us though, even when we took the phone in the back of the house off the receiver and pretended to dial 911 on the other phone.  I even tried acting like the operator, but it didn’t work, so I hung up the back phone.  Of course my sister thought I was still on the other end and dialed 911 one more time.  When the real operator answered the phone my sister slammed the reciever down and the neighbor girl  ran out of the house.  Hours passed before we saw a police car pull into our driveway and we heard a knock on the door.  My sister and I tried to hide under our covers, but our mother found us and made us go to the door and explain what happened to the officer.   The lecture he gave us was nothing compared to what our mother did to us after he left.  The neighbor girl had been long gone by this time and she never came back over again.  Looking back now I can’t really say that I blame her.

6.  I am an adventureous person.  I always have been.  Even my favorite cartoon shows were about adventure.  Batman, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and Darkwing Duck.  I even watched He-Man.  And like many children I liked to renact my favorite parts.  My mother found this humorous for the most part, that is until the day she loaded me into the car, buckled me in and told me we were going to pick my brothers up from school.  As she pulled out of our driveway I unbuckled my seatbelt, opened the door and shouted “I have the power!” before I proceeded to jump out of the car and roll into the bushes.  At the same time my mother hit a small bump.  I have to say it was one of the few times she wasn’t that happy to find me alive.   

7.  In highschool I was a top student.  I did my work, turned it in on time and even participated in school sports.  But sometimes, I hate to admit, I would get lazy and I would look for ways to make homework and classwork easier and less time consuming.  One class I did this in was my freshman Biology class.  Our teacher had us keep a notebook and we would answer the questions at the end of each lesson and do the chapter tests in said notebook.  Well I decided that he didn’t really read our answers so I quit answering the end of the chapter lessons.  I would just write down the question so it looked like I had done the work.  Time went on and I didn’t get caught, so I decided to push it even further and not answer the questions for the end of the chapter tests.  Afterall, I was saving so much more time by just repeating the questions.  The day after we turned in our notebooks for check, my teacher came into class and held up a plain black notebook.  My heart raced and he opened it up so the entire class could see the hasty scribbles inside.  He then informed the class of my not so brilliant idea and announced that he does read our notebooks and if anyone else tried to cut corners they would receive an “F”.  He didn’t tell the class whose notebook he had, but it was embarrasing all the same.  Worse still, he called me into his office and gave me even more work to makeup for what I had done.  So much for saving time.

So there are my six lies or truths.  You be the judge.  I will post which are the lies and which are the truths in the next couple of days, along with my nominations.  Until then I would like to thank Cat for this dubious award and leave you with the rules.

1. Thank the person who gave you the award and link to them.
2. Add the award to your blog.
3. Tell six outrageous lies about yourself and one truth. (Another variant: Tell six truths and one outrageous lie. YOU get to guess which variant I chose – and which statements are true, as well as which are lies.)
4. Nominate six creative liars–I mean writers–and post links to them.
5. Let your nominees know that they have been nominated.

Don’t forget to leave a comment.  Until next time this is Elisa saying I’m not a liar…well…um…most of the time.  Hey where’s my pencil?

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