lunchtime will be writing time. i have an hour, and i start now.
So I'm freezing my poor little toes off here at the office. Joel shut down the airconditioner on our end but it's done very little, really. At least I don't have the brunt of it turning my station into a meat-locker, but well. It's still cold. And I'm in sandals. *snuggles further into her dad's Naval and Marinetime Museum sweater*
I've spent the entire morning juggling my workload (oh FRIDAYS you FAIL >< tho not as bad as MONDAYS, but still) and the essay I'm trying to write. Creative Non-fiction is difficult, I will not have anyone tell me any different. *puffs*
I've been struggling with my writing -- well, my original writing. Which kind of bites because I was so excited about this class. After looking through all the original work I did way back when I realized that there are some pieces that could actually pass for creative non-fiction. That's not to say that I figured that this class would be easy, but I at least had an idea of what I would more or less be working, with so that it might just be a LITTLE bit easier than writing poetry which pwned my ass dead and good last term.
I started on something last week for Name's as the Self's Talismans. Didn't make the Thursday deadline, but it came out pretty good -- not incredibly wonderful like the two readings we tackled in class -- but fair enough, I think, for a first draft. After talking with Kathy in the library snce I read it aloud to her, I think I need to hammer it a bit more -- to hell with the stubbornness of words. I will make it neater and more cohesive and less... clinical. I pray I don't fall flat on my face.
I wanted to stick to the theme this week and write something to Lares et Penates: Family Guardians and Ancestors, but after struggling with several trashes paragraphs I decided to wing it... and rounded back to my aunt, and last May, and the fact that I really need to write about this, because (a) I can write about it, since I'm oddly distant from the event, and (b) because there is enough underlying emotion -- the kind that comes when I can step back and see things as they are like a short film or documentary on my life without giving in a hundred percent to the feelings of being torn up over it.
Unfortunately, all my sources do not keep dates, or are very bad at keeping track on it, and the heart of non-fiction is being true to the facts which are verifiable. Also, my Tita Inday -- the aunt who lived with Tita Bingbing in the early stages of her lupus -- is currently in Baguio and will be unreachable until she comes back down to Manila.
My parents suggested I talk to her this Sunday, gather my information then. But I feel so torn because I actually can write now.
So I guess I'll just write it out, print it up and slap it into my journal. Will work out the facts later. I'll do rough estimates based on memory and I can only hope that while I can't submit this week, when I do submit next week, it'll be all good.
I've spent the entire morning juggling my workload (oh FRIDAYS you FAIL >< tho not as bad as MONDAYS, but still) and the essay I'm trying to write. Creative Non-fiction is difficult, I will not have anyone tell me any different. *puffs*
I've been struggling with my writing -- well, my original writing. Which kind of bites because I was so excited about this class. After looking through all the original work I did way back when I realized that there are some pieces that could actually pass for creative non-fiction. That's not to say that I figured that this class would be easy, but I at least had an idea of what I would more or less be working, with so that it might just be a LITTLE bit easier than writing poetry which pwned my ass dead and good last term.
I started on something last week for Name's as the Self's Talismans. Didn't make the Thursday deadline, but it came out pretty good -- not incredibly wonderful like the two readings we tackled in class -- but fair enough, I think, for a first draft. After talking with Kathy in the library snce I read it aloud to her, I think I need to hammer it a bit more -- to hell with the stubbornness of words. I will make it neater and more cohesive and less... clinical. I pray I don't fall flat on my face.
I wanted to stick to the theme this week and write something to Lares et Penates: Family Guardians and Ancestors, but after struggling with several trashes paragraphs I decided to wing it... and rounded back to my aunt, and last May, and the fact that I really need to write about this, because (a) I can write about it, since I'm oddly distant from the event, and (b) because there is enough underlying emotion -- the kind that comes when I can step back and see things as they are like a short film or documentary on my life without giving in a hundred percent to the feelings of being torn up over it.
Unfortunately, all my sources do not keep dates, or are very bad at keeping track on it, and the heart of non-fiction is being true to the facts which are verifiable. Also, my Tita Inday -- the aunt who lived with Tita Bingbing in the early stages of her lupus -- is currently in Baguio and will be unreachable until she comes back down to Manila.
My parents suggested I talk to her this Sunday, gather my information then. But I feel so torn because I actually can write now.
So I guess I'll just write it out, print it up and slap it into my journal. Will work out the facts later. I'll do rough estimates based on memory and I can only hope that while I can't submit this week, when I do submit next week, it'll be all good.

accomplished