Con la tecnología de Blogger.

lunes, 29 de octubre de 2012

What a scary thought...

I need to face the music and get this done. I need to write... I need to attempt a publishing.

I need to because if I don't I never will.

I need to because I know that if I don't do it now I'll never do it.

I need to because I have to prove myself wrong... I can do this.

I need to because I am not getting any younger.

I need to because I will never know unless I try.

I need to because that way I will stop nwriting entries like this.

It's raining outside... and no, this was not an attempt at poetry.

Promise.

Just a thought...

I have deep, deep admiration for human beings that can write when they are angry... Anything I manage to write in this state is pure amateur rubbish.

The death drive in me.

Some people see me and see my life and can't, for the life of them, figure out where my impulse to write comes from. This is actually worse once they actually read what I write... I will say it now: in my sci fi worlds there are no utopian societies and I mostly take a more misanthropic and dysthropic approach to everything I create. Whether it be painting, drawing, writing, sewing or any other sort of artistic activity I partake in (what? never met a Renaissance woman before?) it is always going to be placed in a horrible civilization where people are subjected to horrible fates in the name of a greater good.

Now, why do people become, oddly, surprised at this? Well I am more of a hippie, tofu eating, happy go lucky flower child (whom does dress in black almost every day) than a punk rock goddess... Weird isn't it? So where in the world does this... death impulse come from? Why is my writing filled with pain, suicide, horrible fates and over all man eating technology? Believe it or not my biggest inspiration is: my carefree surroundings.

As I have mentioned before, I live in Venezuela (Caracas, to be exact) and I will not get into politics and socialism and capitalism etc but I will say that I live in the most chaotic place you could imagine, ever. There is basically no law here and people seem to not only slowly become used to it...they are okay with it. The chaos,the order, the noise, the fast pace, the lack of law... it's in their nature now (and maybe it has always been). My sense of dysthropia comes from watching them. The Caracas' subway line is a dysthropic society all on it's own. I can't participate in this chaos willingly... I am much more death driven (Thanatos driven if you want to be post-modern about it) and they are are Eros driven... sexually driven, life driven. I don't understand it but they are. In fact I lack such an understanding for this chaos and how that can be okay that I feel like an alien here. I have routines (My boyfriend still has a hard time grasping this concept and finds it boring) and schedules (another thing people raise eyebrows at. "lets go out Mooni!" "uh.. can't I have to study from 3 to 5 today, sorry" "just do it later!" "but... I have a schedule to follow!") and it's that weirdness, in that dichotomy in which I find myself living every day of my life. The encounter of my Thanathos impulse in contrast of the Erotic impulse in those that surround me is where I find it...

It's strange, isn't it? Living in a place where dysthropia is an absent concept someone like me can find it hidden in every corner... And yet isn't that the beauty of a dysthropic society? You slowly fall into it for the mere reason that you can't see it or you ignore it... until it engulfs you and it's all you know. I believe it's societies like these (South American) that are most likely to fall into this trap... Why? not because I consider us stupid but because we're more... fighters but also complacent. As long as we have a meal safe we are "okay" and what can be more dangerous than that? Just as soon as we have a president we can have a Big Brother and we'd not even blink an eye. Hah, it could be worse... 

Oh yes, it could always be worse...

M.

sábado, 27 de octubre de 2012

The rain

Is there anything better for writing than rain? Not for me... Me and rain have a special sort of relationship. It was apparently pouring the night I was born (not strange at all for an October day in the tropics) and the rain has a calming effect on me. I'm not sure if it has anything to do with my birth but I've always like to make those connections.

I have been writing about it, in fact, for a creative writing class I am taking in school. It's supposed to be an autobiography that gets fiction elements added to it. Most of my class mates started writing cute autobiographies about how they went to school, when they met their best friend, their parents, their first love, some of their college life. When the teacher asked me to read some of mine to her she smiled and asked me how old I was (I look about uh... 15) and when I said I was 25 she quickly understood. Now, I am not saying all 19 year old people that write are amateur little twats (I know I for one didn't consider myself so) but hey, not everyone started writing seriously before the age of 10... Most people don't.

Anyway, she was surprised that I had barely if touched upon the first three months of my life for my autobiography. I based it all on the moment of my birth and the three months that followed. I wrote about pain and I wrote about rain. The two constants in my life.

I loved writing that little tid bit, however because (believe it or not, seeing as you're reading a blog about me, written by me) I hate writing about myself and my life. Mostly because between the ages of 17 and 21 I made sure I let people know how little I cared about myself. Ah yes, my teenage years were a blur I sometimes wish I could forget.

Truth is, I didn't really know who I was and what I wanted to be until very recently. I wasn't one of those teenagers with their whole future planned out from the age of 16. I had no idea who I was and what I wanted to do with my life. I felt lost and confused and just thinking about my emotions makes me cringe. So, I hate writing about me and myself (mostly because I have been known to consider myself a pathetic human being). But, upon taking the assignment of seriously writing about me I realized that it's those things (those horrible, horrible things) about me are what make me unique. Without them I would not have reached the age of 25 and been able to say: I finally know who me is. And the more I wrote the more I realized that I was able to describe the whole of me basing myself off a simple little fact: I was born into a world of physical pain and it was thundering the night I did.

If it took me 24 years of horribleness to get to the point where I can describe myself in a sentence then... I guess it was all worth it wasn't it?

viernes, 26 de octubre de 2012

How being socially awkward has helped me be a better writer

Well I was really not expecting to write this entry (but then I never really expect what I write) but the silliest thing prompted me to do so... Where I work there is a cafeteria much like a high school's cafeteria (by the way... how do people live through that horrible experience in the US though all of high school? No wonder kids start shooting each other*) and I've been eating alone there most of the time which my boss found horrible. I honestly don't mind but thought it was sweet that she would worry about me like that so, with that in mind, today I decided I was going to ask my boss if she'd like to join me for lunch. Now, for most humans this experience would go something like this.

Person 1: Oh hello Miss A? Would you like to join me for lunch today?
Person 2: Oh sure Monica, I'd love to?

But then there's me... and this is how that went.

Person 1 *looks over nervously at Miss A's desk hoping she didn't catch the stupid stare and shaking from where she is sitting... Hands shake and get cold and as Miss A turns a little Mooni's eyes advert before they can catch Miss A's. Mooni thinks to herself "come on girl you can do this... She said she'd like you to join her for lunch so what's the big deal? Well of course you probably blew it now from all the STARRING you just did. What are you doing? Aren't you supposed to be working? Why are you sitting here sweating over this... GO OVER THERE AND ASK HER IF SHE'D LIKE TO HAVE LUNCH TOGETHER!!!"*

Person 2: *types at desk*

Person 1: *thinks: "okay I can do this! I will march over there and smile and ask her if she'd like to join me for lunch!" She gets up, walks over there, almost falling down with her headphone cord wrapped around her heel in the process and stammers something like this:* Oh hi Miss A! I see you're busy but were you planning on having lunch? I mean of course you were but I meant here, at the cafeteria because since you mentionedyesterdayhowyouwereworriedIwaseatingaloneIwaswonderingifyou'dliketo... eat... with me?

Person 2: *stares* uh.. Oh sure, Monica... I'll join you when lunch time comes.

Person 1: *walks away almost wanting to cry... in shame.

Now, see the difference describing that first scenario and the second one!? I do... Because I live it every day. But it isn't just that bit (the describing) that helps me write but the fact that when I write I can actually be the person I want to be. Most of my characters are not as shy and horribly hopeless as I am and me wanting that has made me an observer. I watch people be social because I can't be... but I can watch them and later on describe it. I became a people watcher out of necessity and that is one of the most important things when writing. That you have the knowledge of how people act. You've watched them and learned bits and pieces of them and thus you create stories with them.

I may not be a confident and social person but my characters can be if they wish and I have my social awkwardness to thank for that.

M

*this is a joke... I am well aware there are other complications that prompt the killing of your fellow students.

The game plan

Alright, so now that I got the introductions out of the way I will I guess... Start blogging? Sure, why not. Basically I wanted to write a post mostly to remind myself what the game plan is. Firstly, I think I should mention that I am currently getting my M.A. (last semester and about to write my dissertation) in film studies.This of course pus a damper in my writing seeing as I have to focus on that to get the darn diploma I so want. Why do I want this diploma so badly? Because I have been a scholar my entire life. My mother always has to mention this story of when I was a baby (think 2-3) and someone gifted me a backpack. She says I would put that darn thing on every single day in the morning and watch as the kids got picked up or driven to school. I sat by my window contemplating them (I'd get descriptive about it but I honestly don't remember this happening) and she says I would say with a sigh "do I get to go to school yet?". She also always follows that up by mentioning that the first day of school she cried (me, her first daughter and eldest child was going to be gone from her sight for over an hour) and I told her not to cry and waved good bye. That I do remember.

Oh yes, I'd be lying if I said I didn't need this diploma to make some good money too. I am not that silly to think that I can simply drop my entire life and hide away in my room and write until I make it. I sort of wish I could but to be honest... I cannot. So, that cuts off my time to write but that has never stopped me before and it won't stop me now. Except ow I actually need to get a game plan going, some places to send my writing to hoping someone will find them good enough... Eventually I want to try my hand at some literary contests. I have my mind set on a particular one but I don't want to let all the cards in my hand show. Partly because I am scared that if I say it I'll never do it and partly because I want it to be a surprise. Only two people other than me know about it so... hopefully it'll happen. It won't be soon but it'll happen.

Now, I know this isn't the most incredible game plan ever written but it's something and hopefully it will pay off.

Oh! I forgot to mention... I do plan to sample some of my writing here, eventually. Sometimes I write little things that I just come up with and they'll be tagged accordingly. Usually these things don't make it anywhere in my stories but hey, why not, right?

Finally, I am working on following some blogs of authors and writers trying to get published if you're one of those blogs and would like for me to follow you please let me know!

M.

jueves, 25 de octubre de 2012

You write WHAT!?

It only seems natural to follow up my introduction post with a post about the genre I specialize in. Natural because I realized (upon re-reading) that from the information given there it seems I am a "serious" writer. I assure you this is not the case with me.

I write science-fiction almost exclusively. Now, before the chucking of tomatoes starts I will assure you that I am well aware of the shortcomings of attempting to be an author for this particular genre. Yes, it is a genre more known for it's commercialism (which I see nothing wrong with by the way) than any true blue great works of art (at least in the opinion of most critics). But still... it is the genre that has always spoken to my heart. I grew up watching Alien and Neon Genesis Evangelion and well, the age of computers taking over (remember the turn of the year 2000? I was 12 at the time) oh and there was a little thing called Matrix that might have been an influence on me. Not only this but I just always seemed to gravitate toward science fiction in general. Star Wars was my favorite movie as a child and I can no longer count on my fingers how many times I have read 1984 and Brave New World.

The stories that speak to me are always those that have to do with Science fiction so... Yes, I know that it's not the most hmm... I guess you could say it's not the most well viewed genre (in fact it must fall somewhere along with writing horror) but it's the genre that speaks to me and I love it. Sure, I am not claiming to be Huxley, Kippling, Verne or anything but I do hope that what I write could mean something to someone as those gentlemen meant to me.

M.

miércoles, 24 de octubre de 2012

Who are you and what is this place?

Well hello there, I guess if you're reading this you are new here and want to know who I am and what this is about. I hope to somewhat answer your concerns in a few lines here.

My name is Monica but most people call me Mooni (yes, double "o" as in moo, just like the sound a cow makes) and I am a 25 year old writer currently living in Caracas, Venezuela. Seeing as this is pretty vague and cliché I will go into more about me and who I am.

I started writing ever since I could write my own name. Story telling came much sooner to me in life but writing definitely since I was about 4-5. I have never really stopped writing silly things here and there since then... Of course more serious writing occurred a bit later in life and I was published for the first (and only time) when I was 12 years old. Oddly enough, after being published I stopped actively trying to write and let that be my one and only little glory. Many teachers throughout the years have encouraged my writing and yet I refused to let myself hope for anything to come of those compliments. I know it sounds stupid but I was a particularly stupid teenager and, later in life, I seemed to have turned into a particularly scared adult. That scared part I am still working on...

Scared of what, you may ask yourself. Well... scared of failing. I never wrote again because I was scared of failing. I mean, sure I was complimented by teachers but what made me special? What makes me able to succeed while many others don't? They have talent (I am still working on admitting I do too) and they have drive and yet not all make it in the end. So why me? What could I possibly offer the world that many others have not? Truth is I don't know the answer to those things and I don't know if I will ever actually succeed at this... But! There is one thing I do know and that is that I've never been happier in my life than when I've been writing.

Writing was my escape, writing has been my way of communicating with the world and, as someone with the inability to fully vocalize her own emotions, the one true way I've been able to let people know how I feel. It is my one true way of describing the inner world I live in and it is the most wonderful thing I could offer the world.

So, this is my journey. My journey toward trying to get published, my journey trying to come to terms with accepting that I am putting myself out there and knowing I want to succeed doing this for the rest of my life.

One can't live their life always being scared...

M.