I've been waiting for this day the entire year: the day I take my last class at SUNY Oneonta.
Being homeschooled, it sounded like a good idea to take some college classes before wasting so much money going away to college and realizing I didn't like it. Plus, some conservatories let you in without SATs if you passed college COMP 100. So I took a few classes, then applied to dance schools. I got accepted to the University of the Arts back in November/December, and so then had the problem of what to do during the second semester of the 2010/2011 school year. I didn't need to take any other classes, but I would be so totally bored otherwise. So I took COMP 200 (yay for more essay-writing /sarcasm). I love writing--as any of you who know me even the slightest probably realize--but this class was pretty hard. Not that I didn't like it--I've decided I like harder classes much better than easy ones. Yeah, yeah, an easy A and all that stuff, but I don't like easy As. I'd rather get a B and feel like I learned something from the class.
So COMP 200. I'd have to take First Year Writing I and II at UArts anyway, and composition classes are one of the few things that will transfer. So to make a not so long story shorter, I took composition 200; the final was today.
We had to write an essay about a quote the professor gave us--we saw it for the first time today. (I actually like the quote: "We all are born originals. Why is it so many of us die copies?" by Edward Young--I think. I'll check if that's the exact quote when I get my essay back sometime this weekend.) I don't like writing essays in class because I worry I won't be able to write enough, or have enough to say. I've never written an essay in an hour and fifteen minutes before--blame the homeschooling; it's one of the only bad things about having my parents teach me--so I had no idea how I'd do. Go figure, I had more than enough to say, wrote for an hour and fifteen minutes (pretty much nonstop, except to every once in a while do a bit of planning), and it was actually the best final I've done (this makes my fourth). I should have known I'd kind of enjoy writing for a final exam.
So now the day I've been waiting for all year has arrived (well, okay, the second day I've been waiting for. Number one is the day I go to UArts), and it doesn't feel the way I thought it would. It doesn't feel like any other day when I have COMP 200. It doesn't feel like I'm done and I'll never take class at SUCO again. I suppose over the summer it will start sinking in. UArts will start sending more stuff--like room and roommate info, class schedule, I'll have to buy that Mac they keep telling us we need, get things together like books and dance stuff, eventually pack...
Maybe by then it will sink in that I'm really done with SUCO and I'm going to UArts next year.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Monday, May 2, 2011
Rate My Professor
I don't really use the site ratemyprofessor.com. The comments are usually absurd, and the teachers that everyone likes I end up disliking. The teachers everyone hates I love. Still, I check the site just to see what others are saying about my professors, or professors who I might take classes from next year. I don't care about their opinions, but sometimes the comments are ironically funny.
When I go to the University of the Arts next year, I won't have to take their First Year Writing I and II classes, because I've already taken SUNY Oneonta's Comp. 100 and 200. SUNY Oneonta students all complained bitterly about my comp. 100 professor, and not too many more like my comp. 200 teacher, though I enjoy(ed) them both. So--being bored--I decided to take a look at the comments for the UArts writing teachers. Some teachers were loved, others hated. One student hated a professor so much he said:
Another person said:
When I go to the University of the Arts next year, I won't have to take their First Year Writing I and II classes, because I've already taken SUNY Oneonta's Comp. 100 and 200. SUNY Oneonta students all complained bitterly about my comp. 100 professor, and not too many more like my comp. 200 teacher, though I enjoy(ed) them both. So--being bored--I decided to take a look at the comments for the UArts writing teachers. Some teachers were loved, others hated. One student hated a professor so much he said:
"I've never been told more how horrible my writing was until I took this class. He corrects you on the most ridiculous things"Ridiculous things such as "more how horrible"? Now, all right, "more how horrible" could be a typo, but it's a hilarious typo if it is. And you wonder why the professor corrected your writing if you says stuff like "more how horrible."
Another person said:
"i would only take him if you had too.""Too"? Really? Basic stuff here, people. Basic stuff.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Comp. 200
My English Professor is too nice. At the beginning of the semester, his class was required to write six essays, a thirty page journal, and take multiple quizzes. We still had to do a thirty page journal. Fifteen for the first half of the semester, and fifteen for the last--minimum. That is, fifteen pages each if you wanted a C. If you know me well at all, you can probably guess that I did way over fifteen. Thirty pages each half. Oh yeah.
For Comp. 200's quizzes and essays, however, the professor was surprisingly nice. He canceled a quiz that was supposed to happen before Spring Break. Now, to make it even better, the quiz that we were going to have this Thursday is "optional." Everyone has to take it, but if you get a bad grade, my professor isn't counting it, so it's like extra credit. And instead of six essays, he dropped it down to five. The sixth essay is an optional creative writing essay, so of course I wrote it (and handed it in today, which is more than a full week before it's due).
And on that note: three more weeks and I'm done with my city's state university--forever. No more taking classes to make sure that I could do it after being homeschooled. No, I'm done with SUCO. Finally. Moving on to UArts. And I can't wait.
For Comp. 200's quizzes and essays, however, the professor was surprisingly nice. He canceled a quiz that was supposed to happen before Spring Break. Now, to make it even better, the quiz that we were going to have this Thursday is "optional." Everyone has to take it, but if you get a bad grade, my professor isn't counting it, so it's like extra credit. And instead of six essays, he dropped it down to five. The sixth essay is an optional creative writing essay, so of course I wrote it (and handed it in today, which is more than a full week before it's due).
And on that note: three more weeks and I'm done with my city's state university--forever. No more taking classes to make sure that I could do it after being homeschooled. No, I'm done with SUCO. Finally. Moving on to UArts. And I can't wait.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Killing Characters
I'm 65,000 words into my current novel, and I just killed my first character.
Well, no. I killed one in the beginning of the book around 16,000 words in, but she wasn't a big character. Obviously, she lasted less than 20,000 words in the story. But today I killed one of the main characters.
I have four characters who are the focus of the story. One character--Seth--is the MC, and the story is told mainly through first person from his POV, though there are two others who get view points occasionally, and then the antagonist (who gets POV sections every once in a while) and one other character who I think got a section from his POV once. Other than that, there really aren't any other characters in the story. A few small ones, I suppose, but not even many of them: one aunt and a cousin, a woman who died in the first sixty pages, a queen, and that's really it. The main characters are Seth, Jason, Myra, and Gaven (the fifth is a side character). Compared to my other novels, this is a rather small cast, which is a nice change. Sadly, I had to kill one of them today.
When I first realized that one of the main characters was going to die, I had one of those moments where you think the idea is great. Then I thought about it in more detail, and realized that I really didn't want to kill this character. The idea of killing them still sounded good, yet that meant I wouldn't get to write about them anymore, because unlike my other novels, there is no reincarnation in this novel. I grew used to my trilogy The Otherworld Series which is about spirit guides, so needless to say, there was a lot of dying and reincarnation in those three books. Not in this book. Here, when you're dead, you're dead.
Of course, this character didn't just die in any old boring way. Neh. I had to make it interesting. Or so I hope. I'll have to ask someone if they read this story.
Funnily enough--or not; it's not really funny--I had no problem actually writing the death scene. I thought I would. When I get to the point where I have to kill a character that I like, I usually hesitate. I suppose I've been waiting to write this scene all week (because I'm a bit obsessive and had to finish my research paper before allowing myself to write my novel, even though the essay isn't due until Thursday). I'd gotten past the stage where I wasn't certain I wanted to kill this character, and so it was pretty easy.
This morning I woke up, sat down at my computer, and killed the first main character in my current novel. All before breakfast.
I think only a writer can say they killed someone today and not be totally insane.
Well, no. I killed one in the beginning of the book around 16,000 words in, but she wasn't a big character. Obviously, she lasted less than 20,000 words in the story. But today I killed one of the main characters.
I have four characters who are the focus of the story. One character--Seth--is the MC, and the story is told mainly through first person from his POV, though there are two others who get view points occasionally, and then the antagonist (who gets POV sections every once in a while) and one other character who I think got a section from his POV once. Other than that, there really aren't any other characters in the story. A few small ones, I suppose, but not even many of them: one aunt and a cousin, a woman who died in the first sixty pages, a queen, and that's really it. The main characters are Seth, Jason, Myra, and Gaven (the fifth is a side character). Compared to my other novels, this is a rather small cast, which is a nice change. Sadly, I had to kill one of them today.
When I first realized that one of the main characters was going to die, I had one of those moments where you think the idea is great. Then I thought about it in more detail, and realized that I really didn't want to kill this character. The idea of killing them still sounded good, yet that meant I wouldn't get to write about them anymore, because unlike my other novels, there is no reincarnation in this novel. I grew used to my trilogy The Otherworld Series which is about spirit guides, so needless to say, there was a lot of dying and reincarnation in those three books. Not in this book. Here, when you're dead, you're dead.
Of course, this character didn't just die in any old boring way. Neh. I had to make it interesting. Or so I hope. I'll have to ask someone if they read this story.
Funnily enough--or not; it's not really funny--I had no problem actually writing the death scene. I thought I would. When I get to the point where I have to kill a character that I like, I usually hesitate. I suppose I've been waiting to write this scene all week (because I'm a bit obsessive and had to finish my research paper before allowing myself to write my novel, even though the essay isn't due until Thursday). I'd gotten past the stage where I wasn't certain I wanted to kill this character, and so it was pretty easy.
This morning I woke up, sat down at my computer, and killed the first main character in my current novel. All before breakfast.
I think only a writer can say they killed someone today and not be totally insane.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Being a Writer
My English professor called me a writer today. I've considered myself a "writer" for a few years now--probably since 2008 when I finished my first novel and joined a writing forum to get critiques on it--but I never really thought others considered me a writer. Besides YWOers, my family members, and a few others, I have the creeping suspicion that not too many people read my Facebook updates, and I know not many people read this blog. So most people probably don't realize I'm a writer. Those who do must be tired of my talking about it.
Today in my COMP 200 class, the professor canceled our sixth essay and told us we could do an extra credit essay if we wanted instead. The essay would be creative, using first person from the POV of an object or a non-human. A creative essay? Perfect! Now if only essay number five would go away so I could write number six.
My professor is a bit obsessive when it comes to using fragments. Up until our fourth essay, he wasn't convinced that we knew the difference between a complete sentence and a fragment. Seriously? If you can't tell, Microsoft Word usually can. Or not. Half the time it's wrong. But finally--finally!--we were allowed to use fragments, though only if we bracketed them so the professor knew that we understood what we were doing and it wasn't "accidental." Yeah, yeah, okay, whatever.
So today, after class, I asked if we were allowed to use fragments in this next essay, since it's creative. The professor pretty much told me yes, I could use fragments because I was a writer (which he knows from reading my personal journal, since it was filled with entry upon entry about writing). My advanced college writing professor called me a writer! I just kind of nodded, said All right, thanks, then got my bag and exited the room.
Fortunately, we'd gotten out early so no one else was in the hallway. I left that class and walked down the hall with a grin on my face. No one's actually called me a writer before.
Today in my COMP 200 class, the professor canceled our sixth essay and told us we could do an extra credit essay if we wanted instead. The essay would be creative, using first person from the POV of an object or a non-human. A creative essay? Perfect! Now if only essay number five would go away so I could write number six.
My professor is a bit obsessive when it comes to using fragments. Up until our fourth essay, he wasn't convinced that we knew the difference between a complete sentence and a fragment. Seriously? If you can't tell, Microsoft Word usually can. Or not. Half the time it's wrong. But finally--finally!--we were allowed to use fragments, though only if we bracketed them so the professor knew that we understood what we were doing and it wasn't "accidental." Yeah, yeah, okay, whatever.
So today, after class, I asked if we were allowed to use fragments in this next essay, since it's creative. The professor pretty much told me yes, I could use fragments because I was a writer (which he knows from reading my personal journal, since it was filled with entry upon entry about writing). My advanced college writing professor called me a writer! I just kind of nodded, said All right, thanks, then got my bag and exited the room.
Fortunately, we'd gotten out early so no one else was in the hallway. I left that class and walked down the hall with a grin on my face. No one's actually called me a writer before.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Hello, world of Blogger
I've been converted to Blogger. All my Wordpress subscribers were leaving, so if I wanted to still read their blogs, I had to follow. Well, I didn't have to, but you know. Thanks to Lykaios, I transferred all my posts here, so at least I didn't lose anything.
Hmm. This is kind of a boring post, and I am feeling little motivation to do anything about that. Huh. Odd.
Anyway, yeah. If I keep writing, my English professor says that something will start to come, because your brain doesn't want to be bored or write about nothing, so it will eventually come up with something for you to write about. But in this case, that's all I got, because I want to write my story. *goes back to novel writing*
Hmm. This is kind of a boring post, and I am feeling little motivation to do anything about that. Huh. Odd.
Anyway, yeah. If I keep writing, my English professor says that something will start to come, because your brain doesn't want to be bored or write about nothing, so it will eventually come up with something for you to write about. But in this case, that's all I got, because I want to write my story. *goes back to novel writing*
Monday, February 28, 2011
2011 is odd, writers' ADD, and my last novel.
Note to self: Don't write two stories at the same time. It gets too confusing.
Now, will I take my own advice next time I want to rewrite an old novel at the same time as write a new one? Probably not. Maybe I'll reread this blog post and have an "ah-ha" moment right before overloading my brain with two novels at once.
I really don't like this post's title. But anyway.
In case anyone reading this post doesn't understand what I'm talking about, January 1st 2011 I began rewriting my very first novel (which I'll call LoZ, for now), the only problem was... Well, no. That's an understatement. There were so many problems with that novel, but I won't go into them atm. The only thing that had me overly worried was that I stopped writing something else when I began editing. I'll call that MP. At about 25,000 words--or something near that--I gave up MP for an entire month. (Doing this always scares me, because I've done it before and never finished the novel.) Then, because I think I've caught writers' ADD or something, I gave up finishing rewriting LoZ and turned back to my other story. So all was good from February 10th until today, when I decided that I really wanted to write the last two scenes of LoZ and be done with that novel for another four years. Or whenever I give it another look and another rewrite.
I stopped writing LoZ because I didn't want to figure out the last bit. Why any part of my mind concluded that it would be easier to write the ending after putting it aside for a few weeks, I have no idea.
I always say that I'm trying something "new" with each novel I write. This isn't my usual style, I'm trying something new. So... I'm not sure what my "usual style" is, because it's always different. But 2011 is the oddest year for my writing so far. ("Odd" seems to have become my new word. I find myself using it all the time, which is, um, odd--as well as, you know, ironic.)
So far, my writing in 2011 has consisted of me jumping between rewriting LoZ and writing MP. Literally every month I switch stories. At least I know this won't go on for the rest of the year. Once I finish rewriting LoZ, I'm going to try to force myself to stick to MP, but the sad part is, MP is probably going to be the last novel I write for the next four years.
I can't help but think that I won't have time to write novels while I'm in college, and even if I have some free time, I don't want to overwhelm myself by trying to bang out novels in four or so months like I do now. Still, I don't want this to be my last novel for four years! That makes me very sad. It also makes me want to stretch out writing MP until August when school starts, though being that I'm already 48,000 words into the story, I don't think it'll last past June, if that long.
Yeah, yeah, just because I'm going to college doesn't mean I have to stop writing. But I'm going to a conservatory. I used to think that conservatories had less classes than regular colleges. Now, I've realized they have more. Yes, so if I go to this one school I might only have three academic classes, but add to that dance classes in ballet, tap, modern, jazz, rhythm/improv./partnering/otherstuffthroughtheyears, and any extra things I want to participate in, then that doesn't leave much time for novel-writing.
That's a dance major for you. Too bad for me I also like writing and being in theater. It'd be so much easier if I only enjoyed doing one thing. But I could never pick between dance a writing. (That's why that creative writing minor looks so appealing, even if it would use up all my free electives. *sigh*)
I've been writing pretty much non-stop for about four years now, so I can't imagine suddenly not writing that much anymore. In the back of my mind, I had this idea that maybe I would slowly go through and edit my novels. You know, whenever I had some time, just start reading and marking the manuscripts up with pretty colored pen. That would mean bringing my novels with me in the printed form (because I hate reading on the computer. Seriously hate it). I must've mentioned something about bringing my stories with me to my mom, because she was like, You're not bringing them with you, are you?
Well, I might? I can imagine myself packing up a big heavy box of manuscripts and sticking it in my dorm closet or something. I can totally see that. I can also see myself lugging the box from college to my house every time there's a school break.
I don't know. All I do know right now, is that instead of finish rewriting LoZ, as I was in the midst of doing when beginning this blog post, I have written 800 + words here instead. Yay for anti-productivity.
Now, will I take my own advice next time I want to rewrite an old novel at the same time as write a new one? Probably not. Maybe I'll reread this blog post and have an "ah-ha" moment right before overloading my brain with two novels at once.
I really don't like this post's title. But anyway.
In case anyone reading this post doesn't understand what I'm talking about, January 1st 2011 I began rewriting my very first novel (which I'll call LoZ, for now), the only problem was... Well, no. That's an understatement. There were so many problems with that novel, but I won't go into them atm. The only thing that had me overly worried was that I stopped writing something else when I began editing. I'll call that MP. At about 25,000 words--or something near that--I gave up MP for an entire month. (Doing this always scares me, because I've done it before and never finished the novel.) Then, because I think I've caught writers' ADD or something, I gave up finishing rewriting LoZ and turned back to my other story. So all was good from February 10th until today, when I decided that I really wanted to write the last two scenes of LoZ and be done with that novel for another four years. Or whenever I give it another look and another rewrite.
I stopped writing LoZ because I didn't want to figure out the last bit. Why any part of my mind concluded that it would be easier to write the ending after putting it aside for a few weeks, I have no idea.
I always say that I'm trying something "new" with each novel I write. This isn't my usual style, I'm trying something new. So... I'm not sure what my "usual style" is, because it's always different. But 2011 is the oddest year for my writing so far. ("Odd" seems to have become my new word. I find myself using it all the time, which is, um, odd--as well as, you know, ironic.)
So far, my writing in 2011 has consisted of me jumping between rewriting LoZ and writing MP. Literally every month I switch stories. At least I know this won't go on for the rest of the year. Once I finish rewriting LoZ, I'm going to try to force myself to stick to MP, but the sad part is, MP is probably going to be the last novel I write for the next four years.
I can't help but think that I won't have time to write novels while I'm in college, and even if I have some free time, I don't want to overwhelm myself by trying to bang out novels in four or so months like I do now. Still, I don't want this to be my last novel for four years! That makes me very sad. It also makes me want to stretch out writing MP until August when school starts, though being that I'm already 48,000 words into the story, I don't think it'll last past June, if that long.
Yeah, yeah, just because I'm going to college doesn't mean I have to stop writing. But I'm going to a conservatory. I used to think that conservatories had less classes than regular colleges. Now, I've realized they have more. Yes, so if I go to this one school I might only have three academic classes, but add to that dance classes in ballet, tap, modern, jazz, rhythm/improv./partnering/otherstuffthroughtheyears, and any extra things I want to participate in, then that doesn't leave much time for novel-writing.
That's a dance major for you. Too bad for me I also like writing and being in theater. It'd be so much easier if I only enjoyed doing one thing. But I could never pick between dance a writing. (That's why that creative writing minor looks so appealing, even if it would use up all my free electives. *sigh*)
I've been writing pretty much non-stop for about four years now, so I can't imagine suddenly not writing that much anymore. In the back of my mind, I had this idea that maybe I would slowly go through and edit my novels. You know, whenever I had some time, just start reading and marking the manuscripts up with pretty colored pen. That would mean bringing my novels with me in the printed form (because I hate reading on the computer. Seriously hate it). I must've mentioned something about bringing my stories with me to my mom, because she was like, You're not bringing them with you, are you?
Well, I might? I can imagine myself packing up a big heavy box of manuscripts and sticking it in my dorm closet or something. I can totally see that. I can also see myself lugging the box from college to my house every time there's a school break.
I don't know. All I do know right now, is that instead of finish rewriting LoZ, as I was in the midst of doing when beginning this blog post, I have written 800 + words here instead. Yay for anti-productivity.
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