So, I keep thinking about Mr. House's class and how great it was. I wish I could get that sort of inspiration again. So, I am going to be using this blog as a 15 minute mind dump, every day (I hope).. and hopefully, I can get some snippets of stories from them? Either that, or lube up the ol' mind to WANT to write.
I made the mistake of showing a book I am currently working on to some people. Now, I was feeling lost. Feeling like I wasn't sure what to do with it, exactly... But, the critiques were a little harsher than my humble ego can deal with! :)
Things like: You rush your scenes... then the person says the story is too slow. Tells me to write as if I am writing to a friend, and in the next breath says I need to be "less cerebral and more literary". Lots of contradictions, so I choose to only take the "describe your characters better" to heart. That is it.
Obviously, I cannot even begin to process a critique like this. I was told, basically, the story is shit, and that I only have 1 good paragraph out of 20 pages. Of course, I have 80 more pages sitting here... so I don't know. I have been working on it for 2 months. It is hard to write about, as it deals with death.
I asked my mom to look at it, and she has given me vague comments... Says I rush over the emotional parts. (I know I must do this, as it was too painful to relly dlve into writing this. It used to end in crying jags every single time... now, I am able to write daily... So, maybe I need to cry more?) My mom doesn't want to put her 2 cents in, she says. It's my book.
The touchy, insecure writer, this means, "My poor retarded daughter. How can I tell you that your writing sucks so badly, that I cannot even fathom a nice way to say it."
Yes, I am prone to dramatics. I know this.
I just need help, and I am buckling under pressure... But, I know I need to write this. It is going to be hard, and I need to accept this. I need to feel the emotions, so I can be happy, I guess. I don't know. I hate that I bottle up my emotions all the time.
Also, another thing that bugged me about the critique, was that the person said my reaction to the death of a family member was "trite". Well... I wrote how it went. I was shocked and went into this ... space... I didn't really feel anything. I wanted to be alone. I cried. I went to my mom's and hugged her & my dad... It is hard for me to say "I love you" but in that time in my life, I told everyone I loved them more than they probably wanted to hear.
It was hard, thinking someonewho is only 5 years older than I, was dead. I couldn't imagine not raising my kids.
I suppose I need to actually write how I felt. How much sorrow it caused me, rather than saying I cried. I try not to go there too often...and sometimes, when i do talk about it, my throat catches and it feels bruised and angry. I hate that feeling.
I just am not the type to fall on the floor and scream WHY WHY WHY... I just can't do that. I can silently weep... If I am by myself, I can sit in the bathroom and cry, silently... hurrying to wipe the tears before the kids can see.
I do cry a lot. I cry over being tired. Or frusteration. But, being hurt, or in pain... I suppose I need to hide it. Not really sure.
So, here I am, complaining about someone not liking my story. I suppose, I have figured out, i need to let myself go. My mom did say I needed to stop being so "politically correct" and let it all hang out... I suppose I oughtta do that. I am not actually planning on publishing this... I just want to do it and get it finished.
Maybe someday my children can read it, and understand why, when they were young, Mommy was a crazy woman. :)
