pivital point

Ok, so today was a little cRaZy. I finally finished my profile story on the new guy at the career center on campus. It turned out to be a pretty cute story, so far...just as long as the copy editors don't butcher it too much! lol

Most importantly I thank God for allowing me to get through this story, because I was having a really hard time with it. He helped me through indeed. I just hope the new assistant director will be happy with it, and others would enjoy reading it as well. I'm working to make my stories more relatable to the reader, and less "newsy" and loaded with facts.

I experienced another epiphany in my feature writing class today. Getchow always explains things in an awesome way when it comes to writing. His insights are like cool AC rushing into the room after coming inside on a blazing hot july afternoon in Texas, and a remedy to my negative thoughts I tend to belittle myself with. At times I become cinacle about the writing process out of frustration with myself. I'm not able to come up with the right words to say and let the language flow smoothly on the page like water gliding over a smooth stone in the Amazon. (I'm stretching this to make a point.) Today he read from "Bird by Bird", a book by Anne Lemont that I read last year and really enjoyed. As he read, the words off of the page resinated into my thoughts and mind. I sat attentively in my seat hanging off every word. Althought he talked about revision today, he also talked about the difference between writing a feature story verus just plain articles. He said horrible first drafts were ok, and that it's just a part of the writing process. I forget this some times. And sit paralized in my chair, crippled in my mind by fear. Fear that what I wrote could and will be used against me. By the end of class I decided that I would approach my future stories very differently from this point on. I want to entertain as well as educate, so I need to learn how to shape the words to keep the readers interest.

This day in age writers compete with TV and movies. A great challenge lies ahead for me, but I'm willing to fight. Today I restled in my mind over whether to have the student assistant edit my profile due today. I asked for help. I need to get better. She helped me tramendously! She saved my story from boredom.

Hand trembling, I handed her my copy. Then I watched as she fumbled through the first part of the story. She sat. Read. But then all of a sudden she leaned in closer to the black and white letters, reading the text intently, intrigued. Noticing this, I realized that she had reached the middle of the story at this point, the part that seemed the most interesting to me. She zipped through the last section, an easier read than the first half it seemed. She paused for a moment. Her face expressed a searching delicate choice in words in her mind.

"Maybe you should put this in your lead," she said. Just as I discovered/noticed. She advised me to lead with a story the person told me because it was interesting and she liked it. "It makes him seem more personable" she said. I see... Come to think of it, I thought the exact same thing after he told me the story. It made him more relateable. She said the first part was too loaded with facts, and the lead I had, she said the reader would have stopped after the first sentence and moved to the next best thing. So she gave me some ideas, and I fixed it. She helped me so today. And for once, after I read the story, I just stopped and smiled.

This experiene today (as well as my 20th birthday tomorrow) marks a pivital point in my writing, which will be different from now on.

Mafia!!

I played this awesome game yesterday called "Mafia"...I didn't know what the heck I was doing at first or exactly what I was getting into, but it turned out to be a really fun game and I met and got to know a lot of people that I never got to know before... But that game, Mafia, is a trip. They be serious.

Peculiar

I hauled my legs one foot after the other in a deep stride to make it up the neverending hill around 5:45 pm on a friday afternoon in Texas.

The last bus departed at 5:27, but my journey back home had just begun. I stood outside, pits soked in perperation from the suns relentless pressure. In digust I climed aboard the bus that would take me at least a few blocks from where I needed to be. Little did I know the scope of what was ahead of me. As I got off at the closest stop, I knew I had at least a mile or so more to walk. I sighed. I stood at the light as people glazed pass me in their air conditioned vehicles. I felt the stare of the Mexicans as they watched the little black girl walk up the hill alone down a back alley. When I was nearing the railroad tracks, I began to feel the sun beat upon my back. Suddenly I became an object underneath a magnifying glass on a hot summer day. God's eyes watching me. I pulled out my newspaper. The light shined perfectly between the trees creating a lamp for my path. "Thank you Lord," I said. By this time I had made it through the dark alley way, and the hovering trees over the poorly paved street--'a scene from an old 60's movie' I thought. You know the ones. Where the poor black kids have to walk across the railroad tracks coming home from school. The hovering trees help create a southern scene much like Forrest Gump. Forrest ran down that country paved road, trees hovering over him and all. He broke those metal braces and set himself free.
I just kept walking. I'm about to cross the train tracks now. It's a mystery to me where that train goes, because I know the highway crosses as some point, but I can't quite see how it makes it through or if it just...ends. Now I'm half a mile away. I girl passes me in a white toyota-i think- but she did a double take and just looked at me like "what is that girl doing walking out here?". Good question. But i really didn't mind much. Serves me right. I think I take for granted sometimes the fact that I have a car, and this just helped me to appreciate it! Besides, the excercise did me wonders cause I compomised a deal with Golden Archie today with the fast food. I knew better. Subway was just across the street. Anyway, making my way up that last hill shaded by trees on my left, sun bathing me with glory on my right, a few cars flew pass me. But one white car with a beat-up bumber falling off the tail end and a person inside who I thought was a guy at first, stopped their car and put it in reverse.
"What the--" I said to myself.
When the vehicle finally made it back to me lo and behold it was who I would call 'the evil-eyed diva' a month ago. I wrote her off as someone with one of THE WORST attitudes on the face of the earth. Everytime I saw her she would give me a look that crossed a scowl with a raised brow, a look of "I'm better than you" or looking at me like I was just plain crazy. Panting and sweating from my hike up the dirty grey road I was suprised to see it was her in the beat up white car asking me for a ride. AND to my surprise she was not wearing her infamous curly wig my dad and brother would probably label "unbeweavable". She looked bald from far away, hence the one whome I thought was a guy, but when the car reversed back to me it clearly had bosoms, lol. 'I can't believe this', I thought. 'Not only is he car busted, and barely running, but this girl ain't wearing a weave?' (And we all know how black people are about that. You don't go out like that.) ...but she gave me a ride. "Thanks" I said.
And all that time I thought she looked 'down' on me, had problems with me, and just flat out didn't like me. But after today she reminded me that we all need a helping hand sometime no matter who you are. And never underestimate the kindness that someone could really have in their heart and perhaps show to you one day. I looked at her differently today as I also will tomorrow and from this point on everyone who loves to give others dirty looks.