Writing is Scary

when what you're writing about
who you're writing about
is so close to your life
so close to the problems you're going through
that it pains you to write
you feel actual, penetrable fear
and sadness
because you don't want to know what happens to your character
because you are the character
and finishing this NaNo novel is not just a task to check off my to-do list
it's not just a fun competition with my self to guiltily fill my time
instead of doing homework or a zillion other things
it's like facing a therapist for an appointment each morning
that you keep trying to push off but you know you need to go
go and release
release
they always told me to write from my heart
write what you know

this is why i never listened

Lewis Carroll Square Stanza Writing Prompt

It's been a while since I've written or tried to write poetry, so I felt the need to devour some good poems both old and new to get me in the right mood. I never considered myself a poet, or at least not a purposeful one. Poems come to me if they feel like it, otherwise I don't bother them.

Here's one fantastic poem I read in the July/August issue of Poetry magazine.

The Labyrinth

by Robert P. Baird 

Torn turned and tattered

Bowed burned and battered

I took untensed time by the teeth

And bade it bear me banking

Out over the walled welter

                                           cities and the sea

Through the lightsmocked birdpocked cloudcocked sky

To leave me light on a lilting planetesimal.

The stone walls wailed and whimpered

The bold stars paled and dimpled

Godgone time gathered to a grunt

And bore me bled and breaking

On past parted palisades

                                           windrows and the trees

Over a windcloaked nightsoaked starpoked sea

To drop me where? Deep in a decadent’s dream

Wow wow wow wow wow! Can I add one more wow?
The alliteration, the inner rhyme, the whimsical, sensual made-up words, the quiet imagery and unassuming flow of narration-God, how I wish I wrote this poem. Seriously!


As for the Lewis Carroll Square Stanza... I couldn't figure it out for the life at me how that man did it! I mean I could see the pattern, but it wasn't as simple as sticking words in a repeating fashion. I was sitting on the lightrail with my journal and I was scribbling, scribbling away lost in thought of how to tackle this Rubik's cube like poem. But here is my attempt. I'm not sure if it really works and the content was definitely sacrificed to fit the gimmick....

he              stays           with           me         often

stays           for            such           precious  time

with          such         eagerness      so           and 

me            precious        so               i             feel

often           time           and           feel           love

Anyways, the next prompt shall be taken from a cool feature in Writer's Digest Magazine called Reject a Hit. What harsh rejection letters might the authors of some of our favorite hit books have had to endure? In 300 words or fewer, reject a hit and send it in to wdsubmissions@fwmedia.com with “InkWell: Reject a Hit” in the subject line.

Oh this sounds fun muahahaha.

Making Headlines: Writing Prompt

Well took some time to finally sit down and write this, but I chose these three words for my short story: "trapped " "witches " and "hospital".

I used the CNN headlines: Nigerian kids killed as witches, Trapped miners building shrine, Criminal probe targets hospital where 5 newborns died in fire

So here is my very random, kinda disturbing short short story.


Johnathon woke up in a hospital room and had no idea how he got there. His ears were ringing, his lip felt chapped and his throat was dry. What had put him in this condition? He tried to remember the last thing he remembered before blacking out. And then, the realization hit him and caused to suddenly seize up in his bed and try to find an escape route. Unfortunately, the nurse was already coming in.

"Look at you awake and alert. How are you feeling, dear?" she said.

Johnathon stared at her for a second before mumbling, "Fine, good, perfect so I need to go now thanks."

The nurse tilted her head back and laughed. Her ruby red lipstick made a chill go up Johnathon's spine. Blood, he thought.

A flash of blood was the last thing he remembered seeing. Johnathon had been dabbling with dark magic, things he knew he should have stayed out of but didn't.

The nurse began flipping through charts on the wall and scribbling something down that Johnathon couldn't read. Would she believe him if he told her his story? Did she know how he got here and what he had been doing?
"There haven't been any visitors for you. Do you have any family?" she said, turning around.

"Um no kind of. Where am I?"

"In Central City Hospital. You don't know that? Are you from here?"

Johnathon shook his head. He had taken over an abandoned store in the next town for his magical experiments, away from his nosy family and friends. He couldn't risk anyone finding out and getting suspicious. They didn't understand why Johnathon was so unhappy, so unfulfilled with his life. Discovering dark magic was the perfect way for Johnathon to get what he most desired, something to make him special, respected and obeyed. He thought he could handle it. He could handle AP Chemistry and modern science was only a few steps behind alchemy anyhow.


Boy, was he wrong. What he thought would simply give him greater powers instead gave him very powerful stalkers-a whole coven of witch stalkers, to be precise. He had duped the witches with some shady deals to get some highly sought after spells and ingredients, thinking that they were too stupid to notice. Johnathon was in the game to win, not share. And now they were after him. They didn't care that he was a human. They didn't care that he was only 14.

 

"How did I get here? Who found me?" he asked, taking a sip of water from the glass on the bedside tray. He tried to sound normal, no hint of fear in his voice.

"Apparently you collapsed in the heat on Birch Avenue. You had no ID, no nothing. No one seemed to know ya, but there were some people around and one lady was nice enough to call 911." 

The nurse smiled and tightened her slick bun.

So no one saw me doing anything. No one saw my stuff. Good. No one saw them? Johnathon thought. Four old tall women with paper-white complexion, hawk-shaped noses, and crows tucked into their hats?

 

He had to atleast warn the nurse to not let anyone in, no visitors at all. The witches were shapeshifters after all and could disguise themselves to try to get access to him. He couldn't go anywhere on this bed. Johnathon wasn't used to feeling this powerless, being held against his will. He was trapped.

"Listen, this is going to sound crazy, but I really need you to do me a favor," he said. The nurse walked closer, her forehead wrinkling with concern.

"Of course,  I'm here to help you. What is it?"

"No matter what, don't let anyone into my room. No visitors or anything, please. It's extremely important. There may be some person claiming to be my mom or my dad, but don't listen to them. Unless I tell you."

 

Johnathon held a fixed stare, praying she'd agree.

"Johnathon, I am not sure what you are talking about, but I can assure you we follow the safety guidelines of the hospital protocol. We don't just let anyone in. Visitors have to show their ID and get approval at the front desk, don't worry. You need to take your meds and get some rest, okay? We'll need to contact your parents ASAP though. They must be worried sick!"

Johnathon groaned as the nurse grabbed a paper cup and proceeded to the sink.

 

She doesn't get it! Why doesn't she get it? She has to understand that they are after me! That's much worse than anything my parents need to know about.

His mind was so frazzled he couldn't remember the complete verses of any protection spells to help him. The witches could be outside this minute. They could be waiting for the nurse to leave and then kill him alone in this room and no one would even notice. 

 

Suddenly, the sterile, white room began to look even more depressing to Johnathon. This was never how he envisioned things to end. Not at all.

"Johnathon?"

He looked up to see the nurse holding out a cup of water and two red cylinder pills in the palm of her hand.

"Come back down to Earth every once and a while, okay?" she said, grinning.

He reluctantly took the cup and popped the pills in his mouth. Taking a swig of water, Johnathon sat back in his pillow, trying to figure out his next move.

"I mean it, come back to Earth, because that's where mortals belong," her voice suddenly grating and metallic.

Johnathon's heart lurched, as he looked suddenly at the nurse who's grin was growing to the sides of her face.

"Should have known better than to double cross the Hex sisters, boy. Trying to get into where you clearly had no place with such ancient magic. Big mistake."

Johnathon's vision was beginning to cloud. He opened his mouth to yell for help, but the words came out in a slur.

"Hope you like the little concoction I made. It's our special recipe. One of the few you didn't actually steal from us."

The witch put out her hand to brush Johnathon's cheek, giggling at his recoiling from her touch. She waved her finger to pull the shades down on the window, flick the light switch off and then turned to exit the room. 

 

In Johnathon's last blink, he thought he saw a little beak poke out of the witch's collar.

-----

My next prompt is to compose a square stanza like this awesome one I read by Lewis Carroll. Check this out!

Twitter Writing Prompt: Gandhi Tweets

 pic credit: http://www.wikipedia.com

Remember the prompt I posted last time:Write the tweets of your dead hero, a dead historical figure, or a long-passed literary great.

I decided to write 5 tweets by.... Gandhi!


- an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind. maybe that's why no one sees the dark path we are all going down...
-praying and fasting for pakistan. please send whatever $$ you can. we must all work together to relieve the devastation. does anybody care?
-i'm thinking about switching from glasses to contacts. what do you all think?
- spent a wonderful day picking up trash in the river that i didn't even notice the time. i almost missed today's episode of Oprah.
- this ground zero mosque story deeply saddens me. where is the satya, the truth? why must we fight and turn against our fellow man?




Hmm that was interesting, but actually hard! I didn't want to just simply use quotes by him or be too stereotypical, but I think I did allright.

Here's the next prompt:Log on to a news website, and match up three random words from three article headlines to use in a story of your own.

For example, via CNN this morning, I could have used “billion,” “targeted” and “swans” from the following headlines*:

“Half a billion eggs recalled in 17 states”
“WikiLeaks founder: I was targeted”
“Sell queen's swans, Briton suggests”



Get more great prompts, writing tips and inspiration from the Writer's Digest Blog.

Fall Season Writing Opportunities

"Education is hanging around until you've caught on"

-Robert Frost

School just started last week and I'm already hitting myself on the head for my absence of productivity this summer. I was pretty much gone the entire time traveling in Europe and trying to find time to write or any alone time for that matter was extremely difficult. I did get some reflections and lines jotted down here and there, but nothing spectacular. So instead of being pessimistic, I'm looking ahead to the opportunities I have this fall to get my creative juices flowing.

-The Lux Undergraduate Creative Review is accepting submissions until Sept 1st. I sent in a short story last year that wasn't chosen (Lunch is Served) and I'd like to try again this year. Maybe a poem this time?

-Writer's Digest has its Popular Fiction contest and Short Story Contest due around November and December.

-Of course the biggie, NaNo. I actually did a TON of writing because of it last year and I'm psyched to do it again. Granted I haven't finished the story I started from last year but it really pushed me through my writer's block and inner critic and gave me good material that I'll keep for the second draft of the novel. I do have a new story for this year, so I'm working on background info, character sketches and whatnot so I'll be all set for that.

I really want to make an effort to go to more of the NaNo group writing events, because those really help me focus and set aside time. You'd think I could just write wherever and whenever since I have a laptop but I always end up doing something else online. Curse you distracting mind! No wonder writers go on retreats to an empty house somewhere off in the woods. I think if I had a typewriter I could crank out way more than I do now. There's something so sophisticated and pretentious about typewriters that would force me to pay attention to my writing haha. I do have some sweet journals to write in. All I need is the perfect pen....

-And then there's inkpop, which I have sadly neglected for several months. No one is reading my stuff and I haven't been exactly promoting or networking on the site either. It seems really hopeless because I've already asked all my friends on there to read my stuff and they've either picked or just commented on my pieces and that's it. No new people stop by to read so I don't do anything on there. I guess I don't have the major work that I want people to notice so I don't really care? I have a bunch of poems and a few short stories, but I think people care more about reading novels on inkpop. And guess what I haven't written yet? Sigh...

I always thought I would finish a novel sometime even if it was crap but my mind just doesn't want to do it. I'm way more interested in writing short stories, but then all the ideas I come up with are way too big for that length and then the ideas I come with for novels just don't seem deep or complex enough for me to write that much. I just...stop. I'm like stuck in this rut of collecting ideas but then not doing anything with them because I don't know if I should turn it into a novel or a short story... or an epic poem or a haiku or a ballad...

If I was really daring, I'd make myself just do a prompt each day and write until I felt like stopping. Maybe each day I'd write for longer unconsciously? Yeah I think I'm going to do that. Get ready for a barrage of posts every day of crap upon crap on anything and everything. Writer's Digest has good prompts each day on their website so I'm gonna copy and paste them from there. Here's the link so maybe you can write along with me!

http://blog.writersdigest.com/promptly/?p_PageAlias=promptly

Here's today's prompt: Write the tweets of your dead hero, a dead historical figure, or a long-passed literary great.

In a Travelling Mood

"Feeling and longing are the motive forces behind all human endeavor and human creations"

-Albert Einstein

So I've left London and am now in Stockholm and the sadness I felt leaving is still with me now. Why does time have to go by so fast? Why is it never enough to satisfy me?

Missing London and my awesome family inspired a rather melodramatic little ditty I wrote while on the balcony of my grandma's apartment here in Sweden in order to escape the unusual suppressive heatwave. I left Arizona for a reason...sighh...

i never knew that longing could hurt

a feeling so real that it can convert

a passionate kiss and triumphant bliss

to convulsions of woe and hysterical fits

sleep interrupted; food has no use

mental strength weakened

until soft and loose

i wish the sun still comforted the same

but all i see is nature's cruel cruel game

absence make the heart grow fonder

but also makes the mind go wander

hmm it's a jumble of emotions in that right there so i'll leave it for you all to mull over.

Graphic Poetry

"I dream a lot. I do more painting when I'm not painting. It's in the subconscious."

-Diego Rivera

I found this great site through StumbleUpon (seriously best creation ever!) that combines poetry and art together in a effortless visual manner. The site is www.graphicpoetry.net.

The poet has this written in his bio: "i'm a 29 year old hardcore pinko vegan pacifist metalhead loner blue-oyster-cult-worshipping computer nerd and sometimes revolutionist.  you know, one of those."

After reading several of his poems, I wish I could be one of those too. It really inspired me to try putting my words with pictures and challenging myself to do the three-frame poem that Mr. Pelon uses.

Here's one of my favorites:

Hopefully I won't get in trouble for posting this poem here. All credit is due to the amazingness of Mr. Pelon and I only want to share his awesome work with the world on my humble little blog and encourage you all to check out the rest of his poetry on his site. 

It's  much easier to read the poem straight across as it appears on the Graphic Poetry website, but it shows up weird on here as stacked pictures. Read it left to right though and it will make sense.

Anywho, I'd really like to try this new medium next and see where it takes me. I'll upload my attempts as soon as inspiration hits. Which I hope is sooner or later. Maybe I'll write about the disgusting heat wave I'm forced to endure for the next few days until I leave the country...

Advice from Uncle Shelly

"Listen to the mustn'ts, child. Listen to the don'ts. Listen to the shouldn'ts, the impossibles, the won'ts. Listen to the never haves, then listen close to me... Anything can happen, child. Anything can be."
— Shel Silverstein

This poem came up on my StumbleUpon and made my night that much better. I hope it makes yours too.

Questions Questions

pic from http://andicampbell.com

"Our doubts are traitors, 

And make us lose the good we oft might win

By fearing to attempt"

- William Shakespeare

There's nothing like that inner ego to start gnawing away at your self-confidence. Self-doubt is a killer. It's one of my biggest flaws, that fear that grips me into perpetual self-consciousness to do the right thing and be the right person. I've been experiencing the ups and downs of that questioning quite a lot this summer and I'm not sure why. The questioning has been about both my writing and my personal life.  For some reason I feel like the real me is slowly slipping away and I want to bring her back. I'm also afraid I'm not giving the new me a real chance to prove herself. I need to be more patient and trusting, but it's incredibly difficult when you don't want to waste every precious moment you have with no regrets... I'm also doubting my commitment to writing. It'd be easier to just give up and wait till I'm old and desperately wanting to write again , then I'll proceed to sift through all the unfinished notes and documents in my laptop or journal and do something about it. Why am I pushing myself so hard to write all the time when my mind clearly doesn't want to think about plotlines and my butt clearly doesn't want to stay in a chair all day?

This is all making my breezy, light, globe-trotting days a little harder to swallow.

But journaling through it all has helped me. Seeing my thoughts on paper makes it feel like I'm more sensible and I can then read over what I'm feeling and process it better. I guess it's a very writer-ly thing to feel alone and pour your emotions out. I just wish my pensiveness resulted in actual productivity in my projects. I decided it's best to work on the project that is most close to how I'm feeling at the moment since it'll feel more raw and real. Plus it's summer so I can pretty much do whatever I want. Jumping around from project to project is a fickle habit, very appropriate for right now.

That means I'm going to work on the new idea that popped into my head a week or two ago. It's about a Muslim girl and her family who have to go into the Witness Protection Program and how their life alters as they have to keep a cover until the girl can go to trial for the case. The illusion they have to keep strips them from their normal identities, but especially their visible Muslim identities, meaning the girl and her mother stop wearing the hijab. I want the story to discuss all the complexities of what an identity is, what is reality, what is truth and what is destiny. It's also going to have mystery and a bit of action as the girl tries to keep her family safe and figure out how to stay one step ahead of the enemy who is determined to track them down. 

I don't know a whole lot about the Witness Protection Program so I'm reading and researching. It's really really interesting and I'm hoping I can incorporate my knowledge into the story in a believable manner, but at the same time, what's more important is the characters than the actual workings of the WPP system. Still, it would be nice to get it right or as close to right as someone who's not an insider can get. 

Other than that, I'm going to be sketching, working on some poems here and there and hopefully, get a short story done for a Writer's Digest contest if I get it in on time what with my traveling and all. I'd like to write in a London tea/coffee shop and feel like I'm J.K. Rowling. I think that's the inspiration I'd need to finish a darn first draft maybe?

Summer Dissonance

"To see the Summer Sky
Is Poetry, though never in a Book it lie -
True Poems flee."
-Emily Dickinson

I'm back from a crazy three and a half week trip to Hungary and Romania with my scholarship group and I'm ashamed to admit my writing production was extremely low. Other than keeping a journal of the day's activities and taking notes at lectures and presentations, I wrote one measly poem during an exercise about Hungarian poetry. 


 This is the poem I wrote up in literally 10 minutes from a list of 8 words that we were given to include. (I've highlighted them)


advice to a tourist


wake up in the city or the town
listen to the never ending sound
of people playing in the cool lake
or sighing after bites of sweet cake
shake off you sleepy slumber my dear
open your eyes there is nothing to fear
with luck and a map, you can fake your way through
make a trip on the metro so you
can travel as far as the city limits
or at least as long as time permits
rake the leaves off the trees in the park
but for goodness sake don't stay after dark
enjoy yourself when you travel abroad
now i'm done with this poem, thank god




...yeah, I know, extremely lame, but I was pressed for time and couldn't figure out how to use rake and sake :(


My creativity was somehow zapped in terms of writing and instead played out with photography. I got a new digital camera and had so much fun capturing the beautiful landmarks and people and food of Central Europe. The picture above was taken by yours truly in the amazing city of Budapest:) If only my memory card hadn't filled up, I would have definitely experimented more and shot way more pictures, but between all of us in the group, we have thousands upon thousands to look through so it's not too bad.


With all the free time I have this summer, I really need to organize and prioritize what stories I want to work on. I have several potentials as I talked about in my previous post and they're all incredibly interesting but as soon as I start trying to dig deeper into any of them, I get frustrated by plot holes and just the magnitude of figuring out all the characters and background.  


I think I'm going to call this the summer of short stories and train myself to do short distance and once I have enough endurance to last me, then I can move on to the big league: the novel. I would love to write a small book of short stories if I could find a collective theme. I originally thought about just doing a short story collection about the American Muslim teenage experience since I'm having such a hard time writing just one book on it. But maybe there are other experiences and emotions I want to explore as well. 


I'm just going to be free and open and soak up anything that comes my way. I think I'm ready for a sizzling summer fling with a fictional premise. 

The Suspense Builds...

"It is ridiculous to set a detective story in New York City. New York City itself is a detective story."

-Agatha Christie

I'm still waiting on the results of the Sparknotes Musical Fiction Contest. I don't feel as good about winning  this one, since I haven't seen as many people mention my story this time around. I didn't win last time either, but "Lunch is Served" got an honorable mention and had many fans.

A lot of finalists were picked and I feel mine was really different. There wasn't a pressing plot or action. I guess it was more writerly, but that's how the song "Honey, Honey" was. I love the song because it's a slow building, heartbreakingly beautiful melody that makes the listener slowly piece together what's happening in the story.

In the end, I don't care what place it gets, but it's nice to get some positive feedback and gratification for the work you do:)

Contests are just good in general for making me buckle down and get some writing done, which I haven't been doing lately over these lazy summer days. Actually, scratch that, I have done some writing, but it's been spread so thinly over three different stories.

I had to put on the brakes on my NaNo story because I realized there was something wrong with it that needed to be changed. I know you're not supposed to revise the first draft. You're supposed to just write straight through a crappy first draft and don't look back. This is very very hard for me to do as a perfectionist. I have to know where things are going for the most part so I don't get bored, confused and veer off. At the same time, I also don't like outlining and planning too much, then I get too caught up in that and use missing plot points or weakly defined character as an excuse to stop writing. NaNo helped because I only had an idea and several characters at the beginning following the rules of no writing before November 1st. And whaddaya know, I wrote a good 130 pages by the end of the month.  (That's still only like a third of a novel.)

I've decided to cut out one of the characters that I thought was important but I realized how the story was split into two ideas and it couldn't survive like that. I've also come up with two novel ideas: 1) two American Muslim teens who are best friends and how boys have affected their relationship and 2) a mystery novel with Muslim girl detective. Both are stories that I'm really excited to write about and have been mulling around in my head for just as long as my NaNo novel. The funny thing is all these plots once tried to be in one book together and I have characters moving from different stories and exchanging names, family members and background characteristics. Everything just has to fit nicely for the story to get going and I feel happier about the progress.

Now my problem is just focusing on one story now that I feel they are each on the right track. I think I favor the detective story but I just need to figure out the crime and victim. Who dies and why? It's kind of annoying how as a writer, I have to also figure out what happened but think from both points of view from the detective and criminal and understand both of their motivations. I have a really good book to help me through the whole mystery novel process though, so I better get to reading and follow the clues.

Mother's Day

"The moment a child is born, the mother is also born.  She never existed before.  The woman existed, but the mother, never.  A mother is something absolutely new."

  -Rajneesh

Happy Mother's Day! 

I hope you all were able to enjoy a relaxing day with your mothers or if you're not with them, atleast sent them a reminder of how much you love them. Moms are quite unappreciated and we shouldn't really need a mandated holiday to put the spotlight on them, but it's still nice to have a dedicated time to show how important they are. I would have loved to take my mom out to brunch and tea just the two of us, but sadly she works weekends so we'll have to postpone our mother-daughter outing for another day.

I wanted to share with you what I did get her, other than flowers and a card, a fabulous book called Little Bee by Chris Cleave. 

Here's what the back of Little Bee says:

WE DON'T WANT TO TELL YOU TOO MUCH ABOUT THIS BOOK.

It is a truly special story and we don't want to spoil it.

Nevertheless, you need to know something, so we will just say this:

It is extremely funny, but the African beach scene is horrific.

The story starts there, but the book doesn't.

And it's what happens afterward that is most important.

Once you have read it, you'll want to tell everyone about it. When you do, please don't tell them what happens either. The magic is in how it unfolds.

So, sounds good right?

I've been wanting to read this book for a while and I love sharing books with my mom since she hardly has time to read and doesn't know which good books are out there. I highly recommend this book to you all if you're looking for something new to read. I have a long list to tackle and now that school is out, I can finally get to it:)

Snap Judgment

pic copyright:http://www.beyucaffe.com

"To be a person is to have a story to tell"

-Isak Dinesen

I found this awesome show called Snap Judgment, all about spoken word, poetry and sharing stories. It debuted on NPR nationally in April, but they have a website where you can upload your own stories with audio, text, pictures and get them potentially onto the radio show. They say that Snap Judgment is "putting the public back in public radio" and I'm very glad they are. 


I'm really inspired by the online community of writers and how they are trying to create more opportunities and chances for publication and expression. Snap Judgment says they are looking for the best stories on the planet. It's nice you don't have to do all the traditional grueling work of sending out your stuff and waiting to be accepted (or rejected) by an agent to get your work noticed. Now the audience can come to you, give you feedback and spread the word!


I haven't dabbled into spoken word before, but I've always dreamed of competing in a poetry slam one day. Snap Judgment has motivated me to get started. It's a great way to practice short, engaging, plot driven stories that have to keep a person's interest. Plus, it would be awesome to be on the radio:)


All the stories I've looked at have such strange, but unique titles and premises. I think I have a lot to learn about a good spoken word piece, though I'm sure many people on there are in the same boat as me. I encourage you all to check out the site and submit your stories too:
snapjudgment.org

My Top 5 Literary Villains

"The more successful the villain, the more successful the picture"

- Alfred Hitchcock

pic copyright: liquidmatrix.org

So I was inspired by ZellaKate to post my top 10 literary villains. I have never really thought about villains as much as I do about heroes, but I think understanding how to craft a good, non-stereotypical villain is very important. 


But instead of 10, I could only come up with 5, but who knows, I could add more if I think of them. I think this was so hard for me because I don't read books that have a clear antagonist in it, just a force opposing the main character. I feel like real villains are more in comics, children books and movies? I haven't been reading as much fantasy or mystery and that's where real villains seem to appear.


 I also discovered that I am incapable of spelling the word villain without spell check, so I guess I am improving my writing skills in multiple ways.  


Without further ado, the list:



1. Villefort, Danglars and Mondego: The three stooges who imprisoned the innocent Edmund Dantes and ruined his life forever. I hate hated them as they put their selfish desires first and didn't blink at the crime they were committing until Dantes reinvents himself into the dazzling, charming and wealthy Count and strikes back. Ahh vengeance!


2. Voldemort: Come on, he was the epitome of evil against the symbol of hope and goodness, 'arry Po'er. His twisted, troubled childhood, mysterious omnipresence, obsession with snakes, hanging out in the back of Quirell's head, passion for eugenics... Everyone's fear of Voldemort made Harry's struggles against him that much more epic and exciting. You have to be an incredible character to be worthy of lasting seven books without becoming a washed up maniac. Rowling's creation of Voldemort is simply magic.


3. Cruella deVil: Her name pretty much sums it up. Fear a woman who puts fashion first above feelings. (Wilhemina Slater, anyone? Sidenote, RIP Ugly Betty.)  I had continuous nightmares after watching Disney's 101 Dalmatians, even though I have never had any pet dogs. I can also no longer see Glenn Close as anything but this demented skunk-haired diva.


4. Simon Legree: Yes, Uncle Tom's Cabin was very melodramatic and slipped into borderline bathos with its preachiness and wordiness, but Legree was a great concentrated depiction of the evils of a slave owner. He had no heart, soul or sense of morality and deserved everything the slaves did to him.


5. [WARNING SPOILER IF YOU HAVEN'T READ/FINISHED THE GIRL WITH THE DRAGON TATTOO!!]
Martin Vanger: A sick sick minded man who was a Nazi sympathizer and engaged in incest and sexual abuse of women, including his own sister. Reading the chapters with his explanation of what he did made my stomach churn. 




Hope this wasn't a downer on your day. Here's something positive to cheer you all up, or atleast me lol. My short story  "A Sorceress Spurned" was picked as a finalist for the 2nd Sparknotes Fiction Contest! Hooray! 


Please read it if you haven't and let me know what you think. I also appreciate your votes in the final user contest. Thank you!

South Park and Free Speech

"Free speech carries with it the freedom to listen"

-Bob Marley

So this is kind of a departure from the theme of this blog about my writing, but then again, it's still related to writing because it's about something huge that all writers care about: censorship.

The Internet is abuzz over the South Park controversy of an episode that depicted the Prophet Muhammad in a bear suit. A website called RevolutionMuslim.com issued a warning statement that the South Park creators could end up like Theo Van Gogh, a Dutch filmmaker who was killed by a Muslim extremist upset over Gogh's film of Islam being violent towards women. (Why weren't they as outraged by violence that is going on towards women though? Islam doesn't promote that, of course, but sadly there are Muslim governments that do appease it and let it go. But that's an entirely different post.)

Now the owners of the RevolutionMuslim website have said they are not actually threatening the creators, but they are just stating facts based on what has happened in the past to other individuals who have depicted the Prophet Muhammad in any manner, especially in a negative light.

As a Muslim and writer, I am appalled by this. The Islamic belief that no prophet be drawn because it could lead to idolatry has been so exploited by desperate, uneducated Muslims. Why is it the end of the world if someone else depicts him? They clearly are not worshipping him and it is part of comedy just like the show behaves towards all other religious figures. 

Muslims are not unique in getting special treatment for our holy figures. Those same Muslims who are issuing death threats and more certainly do not respect other religion's figures. Instead of being irrational and childish by threatening violence, they should explain their concerns through writing, letters and such about why they feel insulted or hurt by the depictions. That's free speech as well.

What annoys me is how only a couple Muslims act out like this and the media says that all Muslims are reacting in that manner. But we're not. The problem is that if it bleeds, it leads, so it's so much easier to make the situation seem like that. It only makes the Muslim community look more intolerant, backwards and sensitive.

Yes, any kind of insult towards the Prophet Muhammad, Prophet Jesus, Prophet Moses or the religion of Islam hurts me, but I'm strong enough in my faith to not let it have any effect on me. Free speech is very important and in many parts of the world, it is not respected nor tolerated. If we want to stop discrimination against us, then Muslims need to stop discrimination of others as well, whether we agree with their opinion or not.

And lastly, if these so-called Muslims want to honor and defend the Prophet, do they not understand that by thirsting for violence they are doing the opposite? When the Swedish and Danish cartoons depicted the Prophet as a violent person and then Muslims rallied to kill them, don't they see how idiotic and stupid that is? They are doing exactly what the cartoonists are accusing everyone in our religion of doing. If you don't like them calling the Prophet violent, then prove it by showing him we are not violent people and instead are rational, mature and cooperative.

When the Prophet Muhammad was persecuted, threatened and mocked by the townspeople, he never retaliated against them. He prayed for them. He even asked on the behalf of a woman who used to throw animal intestines on him while he prayed on his own in the mosque. That humility, patience and forgiveness is the example of the Prophet that Muslims all over the world should live by and defend. No one is going to believe Muslims are peaceful if we don't act that way.

Obviously we can't stop the fringe from behaving that way, but we can sure make a difference in preventing that fringe from growing and making sure we emphatically condemn threatening free speech as much as we can. Actions speak louder than words, so please join me in signing this petition in support of free speech:http://www.irshadmanji.com/petition

I'm an American Muslim and I believe in free speech, equal rights and respect. I may not agree or like caricatures of my religion or anyone's religion, but that's what entertainment does-make people laugh at the expense of others and that's just something we have to live with in order to secure our freedom. Cartoons like South Park are not intelligent critiques of religion so I could honestly care less what they say. I don't support hate speech and believe we all have a right to stand up to it, but we should let the law and courts deal with it. We are not lawless people, vigilantes who go out and do what we wish without thinking of others. I wish more Muslims would be as vocal against those terrorists who are giving us a bad name than little cartoonists or writers who aren't hurting anyone but their own intelligence and conscience. 

Our religion can stand up to and cooperate with reason, courage and restraint just like anyone else, so let's actually show that, shall we? We live in a pluralistic, diverse, multi-religious society where we must cede certain preferences in order to be in harmony with others. You can't have everything your way. The world just doesn't work like that.

Sorry to get all political on you guys, but this is something I'm very passionate about and the writing community I know should have some sort of opinion on it. Judy Blume probably does:)

In the Zone

" It always seems impossible until its done."

-Nelson Mandela

So despite my awesome and peculiar idea for a short story, I failed to enter the NPR Fiction Writing Contest. I know, I know cue the "awwww" sound.

It was those dreaded sirens YouTube and Facebook, I swear! I could not resist!

Actually, it was also that I went out of town and did not bring a laptop with me so I was disconnected from the world for a few days. It was quite frightening, I tell you. I didn't realize how much my life revolves around Internet, email, online news and such. It's nice to just get away from it all and get back to basics.

The reason I went out of town was to attend a school trip to Oklahoma City to visit the National Memorial Museum where the 1995 Oklahoma City bombings happened. We were learning about terrorism and the press, how the media covers it as well as what is terrorism really. 

It was so fascinating to see the museum and learn about a domestic terror event that I don't even remember because I was only four at the time. The museum was incredibly well done and hit the perfect tone of solemnness, hope and courage for the survivors and the whole community. 

We also got to talk to an amazing man, Mike Boettcher, a former CNN correspondent and veteran in covering global terrorism. We met lots of really interesting people thanks to our professor and being a part of the Cronkite school. Everyone knows us so we get a lot of priveleges:)

But it wasn't all work. One evening we got to watch The Green Zone, starring Matt Damon as Officer Roy Miller. The movie although very fictionalized is an account of a soldier in Iraq who uncovers the conspiracy over the lack of WMDs and how America knew that and still went in, fabricating information in order to have authority to create a democracy in the country. It's "inspired" by a non-fiction book by a Washington Post reporter Raji Chandresekaren called  Imperial Life in the Emerald City. 

It looks like the only things the movie and book have in common are the setting and theme, otherwise the whole character of Matt Damon finding out about the nonexistent WMDs isn't true. But I guess that's Hollywood. The movie was really good though and I'm not really into pointless action movies. I don't flinch at blown up cars and shaky camera scenes. Well I do, but not in a good way.

I watched the movie not just from an average viewer but as a writer which made me notice several things:

• This movie had a compelling plot, although pretty simple, and made you follow the mystery the whole way through as you yearned to find out why the soldiers were being sent to sites that didn't have anything there and no one would listen to Matt Damon. Everyone should listen to Matt Damon! If it was over complicated then I would have lost interest. War and politics are already so confusing and complex that people don't want to have anything to do with it. You don't want readers to think that about your writing.

• It's possible to draw people into a story that they might not know anything about by adding human interest and emotional conflict because that's what everyone relates to and will be thinking about as the story goes on. I loved the character of Freddi, an Iraqi citizen with one leg, that just wants to do what's best for his country even it means helping the American invaders. What would I do? Would I trust that guy when everyone says not to? Do I do the right thing or the easy thing?

So I'm not really sure how they were able to craft this implausible story out of Chandresekaren's book, but it's definetly going to make people want to read it now. I sure do. But it's going to be a looong time before I get to it. I have a list of about 50 books I want/need to read and I've barely made a mark on it.

This is my current read for one of my classes, but it's one that I'm enjoying a lot because I love Nelson Mandela and am very interested in the history of South Africa's apartheid.

You have a face for radio... and a story to match

Fresh off my entrance in the Sparknotes Fiction Contest, I'm planning on entering this interesting one from NPR (National Public Radio.)

NPR Fiction Writing Contest
No more than 600 words
Deadline- Sunday, April 11, 2010. Must be received by 11:59 p.m. Eastern Time

To be qualified for the Contest, an entry must include only one (1) fictional story (each, a "Story"). The Story must include all of the following words, which may be used as nouns, adjectives or verbs of any tense:
plant
fly
trick
button
The Judge will select one (1) Contest Winner, based on the following criteria, weighted equally: (a) originality; (b) creativity; and (c) overall quality of writing.

I have absolutely no idea what to write about or how to use those four plain words, but I'm excited. I have a school trip Thursday to Saturday, but hopefully I'll be able to get enough work done before that so I won't miss the deadline. This is such a huge platform. I can't even imagine what I would do if I won or became a finalist!?!

These short story contests are like little battery chargers for me while I rest for who knows how long from my novel. It's taken me much longer than I thought to finish my NaNo novel, but atleast I'm further than what I would be if I hadn't tried at all.

So that's saying something.

A Sorceress Spurned

**This is my entry for the Sparknotes Musical Fiction Contest. Try to guess what song it's based on:)

Honey honey, the bees sing to me. One by one, they land on my cheek as I rock back and forth in my chemise hammock  The softness of their legs and fluttering of their wings wakes me from my reverie. I move my hand and slowly crush the bees between my fingers.

They are not who I wanted to wake up to.

I let my hand fall to the ground and the breeze whisks their dead bodies into the pool of wine beside me. I want the bees to float over the white sand into the sea and follow his boat onto the horizons, so that when he looks into the choppy waters, he might stop and think of what he did to me.

Pah! Odysseus knows full well what he did to me. I gave that man a choice and he rejected me-the sentimental fool.

I hear a squeal and snort behind me. I look over my shoulder to see two of my potbellies sniffing the gardenias and jasmine flowers lining the cave walls. I get up to wave them away. They love destroying my beautiful work no matter how much I yell. I swear they are determined to taunt my only pleasurable past time.
 
Normally, I would have drowned the exasperating creatures, but I have learned to control my temperament somewhat. I would never change myself for any one, especially not a man, but Odysseus had been different. I learned carefully what pleased his soul, made his mind wander or heart beat faster. I also learned he did not share my amusement in turning men into swine.

The pigs squeal again and trot to the mouth of the cave. The sky is dark and I feel the blue rush over my tired body. The clouds opens and a sheet of rain begins to fall. A show is beginning,a grand performance of lightning, thunder and howling wind. My pitiful companions watch in adoration as I sit down on a plush chair behind them and began eating from a vine of white grapes.

How silly of me to sit here pining away when I am safe on this island and he is out battling the wayward ocean storm at the mercy of Poseidon.
      
Why did I promise Odysseus a safe return? I could have lied when I advised him on taking the most cautious path home for spite, but what good would my deals be if no one trusted me? I would never receive any more visitors of mortal or godly status and become even more hated, even though I don’t wish to be around another soul as long as I live-which is unfortunately a damned eternity.

Well look where that goodness got me. Now I am alone in my home, which is nothing but a hollow land of enchantments, trinkets and memories of our time together. I still wear the necklace of shells and pearls he strung together for me in a drunken stupor one night. I bubbled with glee in thinking that he was finally giving up what he had-his past, his home, his wife and son.

But I was stupid to think Odysseus would forget everything. When he overpowered my spells, I should have known he’d bring me trouble. For once, I had met my match, a feeling most unnerving and enthralling. I realized I would not have to pursue him the way I had imagined, not like with his dimwitted seamen and those who came before them.

Thunder crackles through the darkness awakening the same raw anger inside me so fast my back stiffens. How could I have lost to ghost of an old wife? Was I not flesh and blood beating, bursting right in front of his eyes? We shared embraces that were far from boredom or desperation. Didn’t I show him how I would care for him in every way yet never nag or bore him? The nerve of that man to grow tired of my companionship!

If only I had laced him with more sweet affection and crafted a stronger, more perfect love. But after Odysseus, I feel my identity as a sorceress weaken. All my jars and bottles have been sitting uselessly, cast aside in dusty chests. Somewhere along the way, I became a simple woman and came to the infuriating realization that he couldn’t be captured like an element or herb in one of my potions. I can only imagine how lesser, homely women react in his presence. Hopefully, I haven’t debased myself too greatly.

No, there wasn’t a single thing I did wrong but even so, my island and I will soon be but a waypoint on his journey. I will be a tale Odysseus will spin into a dangerous encounter with a sly, bewitching woman on a lonely island and they will laugh and sigh, then retreat to their chambers after a lavish feast on golden platters.

I set down my half-eaten vine with a sudden desire to walk out into the rain. The pigs grunt and roll over on their sides as I move past them. Raising my hands up and closing my eyes, I relish the droplets of sustenance that is falling on our skin at the same time-me on dry land, he on the sea.

Perhaps Odysseus is thinking of me now, wishing he had abandoned his fruitless quest. Perhaps he is holding back the impulse to stop and order his crew to turn the ship around. I hope the cold wind bites his watery soul and make him yearn for my arms.

It isn’t worth risking your life to glory, but they never learn.

I feel a light kick inside and touch my stomach gently under my soaked gown. I turn back into the cave to dry off, knowing even if he wanted to, he wouldn't come back.


** Based on the song "Honey, Honey" by Feist. It's on my playlist on the blog, so check it out and have another read while you listen to it. Hopefully it fits well:)

creative lollygagging

"It's spring fever.  That is what the name of it is.  And when you've got it, you want - oh, you don't quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so!"

 -Mark Twain

It's spring break and my mind is happily at ease sleeping (yay for snoozing), eating (a real kitchen!), writing (hello neglected journal) and reading(Prep is really good!) Unfortunately, I also have homework yuck. With only one week, I find it very unfair to have to divide time between socializing, homework and personal time.

 If it weren't for my homework, I would be writing full speed ahead on my Sparknotes Fiction Contest entry which I really want to finish before going back to school. I'm stuck between 3 different songs now, so it's even more frustrating.

I'm also pushing through my NaNo novel. I laugh now that that I thought I would finish it by the end of December. That was a horrible miscalculation. I remember reading somewhere that the first draft is like the rough sketching of a picture before it's painted, so that's how I'm trying to approach my novel. I have no idea where it's going at times as I try to connect each point and each scene. Sometimes it feels too rushed or that I'm ignoring certain characters or not attending to certain story lines, but I shouldn't really expect all of it to make sense at this point, right?

For now I'm soaking up good music, weird art, current movies and amazing photography to hopefully allow all those creative geniuses soak into me and allow something to click. After all, it's break, this is when my imagination should be it's best.