diversity

A Writer’s Greatest Fear

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After weeks, months, maybe even years of work, you’ve finally completed a writing project that you feel deserves an award. It’s your baby—you brought an idea to life, nurtured it, and helped it grow into what it is today. Congratulations! You’re a proud parent! You want to show off your accomplishment to the world, but you can’t yet. There’s one crucial aspect of the creative process that every writer needs to go through: peer review.

Don’t panic! I know it can be scary, especially for new writers. Who really wants a group of strangers to read, edit, and criticize your baby? You may feel that your project is pure and perfect; but it’s not, trust me. When I first started my creative writing courses I was on my high horse, and so proud of the works that I’d be submitting. The day my first short story was discussed in class was one of the most embarrassing and emotionally painful moments of my college career. I questioned why I even became a creative writing major in the first place.

But why are critiques good for you as a writer? For one, you gain perspective on aspects of your writing that you might have altogether missed: character, grammar, plot progression, structure, symbolism, dialogue, and more. In my own writing, I tend to struggle with plot progression—it’s connecting those dots that can get messy, and my scenes can get stagnant or become altogether unnecessary. You also see your strong points, and for me I’ve learned that it’s grammar and dialogue. With the seemingly negative feedback, you take note not only of your weaknesses, but your strengths. As you recognize where you need to grow as a writer, and actively practice to improve your skills, you’ll develop an even greater love for your projects.

It wasn’t until I took the time to look at edits made, and I started asking my peers and professor questions, that I made the connection that these critiques were helpful, not hurtful. I took the advice of others, no matter how agonizing it was initially, and began to make changes to my draft.

So don’t be afraid of peer review—embrace it! Take notes and listen to your classmates, professors, friends, or whoever you choose to edit your works. Find where you need improvement, and take pride in your strengths! Continue to strive for a strong and confident voice.

So You Want to Write a Thesis

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By the time you start grad school you will hear all your fellow students talking about their thesis ideas. Knowing that you have to write a thesis, a large body of work with your own research and contribution to a field of study, can feel overwhelming at times. The first suggestion I have is to think about what interests you the most. For me as a literature major, this can be anything as general as deciding between British literature, American literature, or even deciding what authors I want to focus on. It might be helpful to make a list of your top five favorite areas of study. Once you have finally decided what area you want to write about, then you can move onto the next step.

The next step to consider is doing some research in the field you’re interested in. This will give you an idea about what has already been done and what needs more commentary. For people in English, it could be that there are some authors with lesser known works that could use more exploration—or even some authors during a certain time period who don’t get much critical attention, but were really popular when they were alive. It could be a genre of literature that tends to get overlooked and could use more scholarly research. Whatever area you choose, doing some research beforehand can give you an idea of what has been done to death and what still needs further research from new scholars like you. In addition, you should also start meeting with some of your professors and talking about your ideas with them. Ideally, you want to talk to a professor that is interested in the same field you are. Talking to your professors can really help you get more ideas about the field of study you want to add to. Your professors can also give you more advice on how to find further your research. These professors will be glad to talk to you and happy to help you cultivate your ideas.

Once you finally have a great idea for your thesis, then you can get a committee. A committee usually consists of three professors who will help you while you write your thesis and will be present for your thesis defense. The head, or chair, of your committee should be, again, a professor who is interested in the same area you are interested in. As for the rest of your committee, it is best to ask professors who have gotten to know you really well and who you think would work well together as a team. Once you have your thesis committee, then you will discuss what you need to do with the chair of your committee. This usually includes writing a thesis prospectus, which will help you and your chair outline all of the aspects of your thesis. What specifics you need to write down for you thesis prospectus will be determined by your thesis chair. After you turn in your prospectus or whatever else your chair requires, you can officially begin writing your thesis!

Some are Just Lost

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I picked up the worn copy of what would become my favorite book, not knowing yet the relationship we would have. I read the first page, and by page two knew that this was love. Page seven had me in wonder, page eighty in awe, and page one twenty in tears. I closed it at midnight and marveled it until dawn. I was twelve, and the first chapter book I had ever read was J.R.R. Tolkien’s, The Hobbit.

At fourteen I was required to read it for class and sat mindlessly listening to other readers pick it apart. I knew with surety that their opinions were wrong. This was my book. My world. Only known to me. The hills I had traversed with Bilbo Baggins, the grief that I had mourned, how had so few people seen the journey they traveled? Or had they traveled it? I was judgmental and afraid. I was fourteen, and the only comfort I had was J.R.R Tolkien’s The Hobbit.

At eighteen I watched the old book whither on my mother’s shelf, holding a class schedule in my hand that I wasn’t sure what to do with. Literature looked fun, but I was convinced that math and science were for me. I was convinced that nursing was the only degree. Literature and Culture made nothing in a world full of engineers. I was eighteen and feeling worthless in the presence of J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit.

Sometime, after I turned twenty, I was writing with fervor. Twenty pages in. Thirty pages in. I didn’t like what I was writing. I didn’t even enjoy writing it. My joints ached, I had a forming migraine. I was hungry, I was tired. Still, I was writing. Peter Jackson’s interpretation of the Two Towers played so numbly in the background that I missed Frodo’s screams as the ring tortured him until he fell. A voice in the tips of my fingers whispered, “We must keep going.” I was twenty, and I did not yet own my own copy of J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit.

When I was still a child learning how to be twenty, I broke and gave into writing. I had been chasing nursing until even my grades were bowing to my own incompetence and unwillingness to continue down the path. I wrote a long, incoherent piece of nonsense to turn in to a Creative Writing class I was taking for “fun.”

A month later, I was reading it in front of a group of people.

A day after that, I was majoring in writing.

A day after that, I was writing. Writing, and writing. Remembering stories that had gotten me through. Remembering hope that had pushed me to today. Remembering escapes and letting them become new worlds in my mind. I hadn’t realized how long I had been majoring in writing, before it took over me like a chocolate éclair consumes its creamy filling.

A year after that, I was twenty-one, finally, holding my own copy of J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit.

Finding My Voice Through Those of the Past

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What have you started this year that made an unexpectedly big impact in the way you approach everyday life?

For me it was taking a course that I really did not have the time for, but I decided to try anyways. Ever since this brilliant find in the ever mundane scroll to find new classes for the semester, I have been excited to begin my “Women in Literature” course with Dr. BB. I was not sure what to expect, thoughts running through my head like, “Is this course going to only examine authors like Austen and Chopin in greater detail?” I really had no concept of what the course would be about other than the promise of looking at women authors.  Don’t get me wrong, I have always loved authors like Kate Chopin and Jane Austen, but I was ready to see some more diverse women in the mix, ones with different stories to tell. Of course, with women so often being left out of the canon, it’s hard to not be excited about getting ANY material from women authors, so I walked into the course with an open mind.

It was everything I had hoped and dreamed of. It feels like the book club I could never get the courage to join before. I can’t exactly explain the feeling I have when I am in this class, but it always feels like I am discovering something about myself I had not known before. I finally feel like I have a place where my voice and opinions could be heard and understood. Not only has the class environment helped me open up to being more comfortable with speaking my own opinions, but it has also shown me women in my school who have gone through similar experiences as me. Sometimes it is easy to feel alone and overwhelmed with everything women have to face and “accept” in their lives. Things like feeling powerless in certain situations, or constantly looking over your shoulder in fear of being followed at night, or thinking things like “Am I being crazy about this?” Since reading and discussing these things with my classmates, I have been able to address the things that I have let slide because of social norms. I now feel like my opinion is wanted and deserves to be heard in spaces outside of my classroom. Of course, the magic that binds this environment and its people together is the novels themselves. So far this semester we have only read two; however, they have completely changed the way I look at novels when choosing books. Now, I’m not saying that I will never read a male author again, but it is nice to read an author who understands all of the anxieties and situations that women face. It has shown me that even though we may not have all gone through the exact same things, there are still communities of women out there who understand and support one another. It is nice to know I have found my very own embedded in a literature-lovers’ room.

How do you Improve at Writing?

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How do you improve at writing? I have tried several methods to improve. First, I look towards great works of writing, whether it be fiction or nonfiction, and try to do as they did. Second, I free-write until I get something worthwhile on the page. My last method is to make lists of points and then elaborate. I have found the most success with the last method, but it leaves my writing somewhat dull, disconnected, and long-winded.

I have been making lists for a long time. Throughout my education, the teachers in my writing classes would comment that my first drafts always read like lists. I would meet all the requirements for an assignment, but my drafts were very clinical to read. My writing has improved with time. But I have not truly broken the habit. In order to explain why I care about something, I still default to listing its components. The ability to get to the core of what makes something interesting still eludes me. But I keep searching for it with one bullet point after another.

These are the lists I make: one list for my thoughts, two lists as reminders, three lists to increase my understanding, and four lists to try to find some emotion. Making so many lists made me feel like I was not suited for a creative job and that I would be a better fit for something involving numbers. I started out as an accounting major and made various lists of things going into a company and leaving it. I tried to find joy in making those lists. I treated those lists like puzzles, always searching for the right piece to put into the right place. However, I did not feel anything but numb making those lists.

Switching majors felt like a way I could change how I approached lists. The switch from accounting to technical writing was not as great a change as I thought it would be. Both majors value clarity and concision. In accounting, however, everything must be accounted for (haha!) and that seems to have made my bad habit even worse. Over time, I have found joy in my writing classes. They bring me a different kind of experience, one where I can get lost in making lists. I enjoy refining and tweaking those lists for flow, style, story, theme, and, most important to me, clarity. Maybe if I can make things clear enough, I can get to the core of my purpose and explain to someone else what it means to be a good writer. To get lost in a list with no absolute answer. To feel like the work of examining writing is more rewarding (though not monetarily) than dissecting an accounting ledger.

My writing is still improving and I am still trying to break a bad habit. For now, I will just keep writing and using lists to guide me. Someday I will reach a level of skill where I have the confidence to write without lists, or at least be better able to explain why I use them. Until that day, the only advice I can offer on improving at writing: read and write, write, write.

I Have an Ear for Comedy and an Eye for Tina Fey

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Remember when you were a freshman? And so unbelievably dumb?

How many times have you changed your major? How many colleges have you been to? Me, personally, I’ve changed majors once and changed colleges once. After high school graduation, I went to a private Christian university (which shall remain nameless) with my career completely planned out. Here was the plan: I was going to get my Bachelors in Communication Studies, get multiple internships with Television News Stations to get my foot in the door, then get a REAL job as a reporter to ease my way into my ‘dream career’ as a News Anchor. Why News Anchor, you ask? Because of the hard hitting docu-drama about the journalism industry—yes you guessed it—Anchorman!

During my first semester at the aforementioned Christian university, I got involved with the on-campus television news station, which had a whoppin’ three audience members (if not three, then not far from it). During the show I was Camera Number One! Woot Woot! My job behind the camera was to zoom in on the anchors and move over to weather during the commercial break. Exciting stuff! During my one semester at News30, I realized how unbelievably boring the news was. Remember, this was back in 2015, before news changed forever. I was bored and sad watching the news and writing it. So, I started to analyze my life, and like any good freshman in college, I tried to find myself.

Why did I want this career? Why did I feel so committed to the news? Why did I want to sit behind that desk? Because I had idolized the comedy stylings of Ferrell, Rudd, and Applegate. I was determined to be a great comedy reporter. But I hate the news, okay, so take away ‘reporter’ and what do you have? Comedy. In the immortal words of Bo Burnham, “Comedy, let’s do comedy.”

Time to change. By spring of my freshman year, I started dividing my time between my dark dorm room watching sitcoms alone and the theatre department. I was a Theatre minor and I loved acting and playing those weird theatre games. By hanging out in the theatre department I made new friends and I learned that the university had an IMPROV TROUPE. What? Comedy? LET’S GOOO!

Through this amazing comedy improv troupe I made friends, found a new passion, and fully realized my REAL dream career: comedy writing. I wanted to write comedy for every outlet possible. I wanted to be the next Tina Fey. I tried to transfer to a university in Chicago where I could write while absorbing the city and all its glory, but money halted me. So I came to UCO, an affordable university nearby with a great Creative Writing department. Here I was confronted with many new genres of writing. I was scared but determined, because here I could write what I wanted, and what I wanted to write was anything BUT the news. I am so glad I changed majors and transferred colleges, because here I can get a degree I am proud of—a degree that gives me the tools I need to create an amazing portfolio.

Now I’m a Senior Creative Writing major who is still trying to find her voice, but at least now I know that I’m getting close. Improv is still a passion in my life, and I learn more and more about it every day. I’m now able to realize how helpful it is in writing and everyday life. Do you need to learn how to write authentic dialogue? Improv. Do you have anxiety? Improv. Do you want to create strong character connections quickly? Improv, my dude. I find myself writing away from the genre of comedy—I don’t feel married to it, but I still have a strong connection to it. I realize now, as a senior, I can write in many different genres and not have to feel like I’m cheating on my first love.

One of These Days

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Twenty-two. Twenty-two. What about you? Probably around there, too, huh? In high school, I remember glorifying the image of the old man author. This can probably be blamed on reading mostly fantasy and science fiction, but the whole idea is a weird one. Quite simply, most of my favorite writers were old white men. As a young white man who could hardly focus and finish any of the rubbish I was writing at the time, the elder sage seemed to be an upper echelon of writing serenity that only comes with time and wisdom. If you’re reading this, you might like words, or art in general, just as I do. You might be in college, as well, or just young, busy, and in debt. Finding time to hone your craft into something you feel like could or should be shared with the world may seem out of reach—a dog on a treadmill forever chasing the dangling meat on the end of a fishing line.

Well. One of the many, many life lessons I’ve had to learn in the past few years is about goals and how to reach them. There is no echelon, no serene utopia that time and age delivers to you with gentle hands. It’s a process, writing, as are most things. The pyramids weren’t built in a day and Stephen King didn’t write The Stand in a single spectacular moment of genius. Well, maybe he did, to be honest. Guy was doing A LOT of drugs. But anyhow, don’t do drugs and don’t expect to be the writer of tomorrow today before noon. I can recall one of my favorite fantasy authors, Patrick Rothfuss, recounting the evolution of his hit series, The Kingkiller Chronicles. The idea, birthed early on, developed over a course of years, muddled with years of getting that bachelors and then masters. His writing went on a journey with him. That’s real life. The process doesn’t cut through a space-time rift and come out on the other side successful and rich. If only, huh?

So, yeah, we’re young and busy. Maybe you’re middle aged and busy! Or old and busy! Whether you’re still learning how to navigate blossoming and burdensome adulthood or have come a long way already, the process is right there for you. It hasn’t moved. Start somewhere. Months ago… no, goodness, it’s almost been a year now, I jotted down some ideas for a story on my phone while I waited for my car to come out of the shop. Gotta rotate those tires, people! Anywho, that story is maybe sitting at eight or so pages now. I want it to be a novella… so, yeah, still a ways to go. Sometimes I rip on that bad boy, sometimes I forget about it for months. But it’s a good idea that I won’t let die off. And I haven’t, as of yet. If you would have told me all those months ago that I’d only be about a third or so through the tale, I’d be frustrated. I’ve rewritten and revisited. But, you know what, I kept writing it and believing in it.

You make time for what you value. I shudder to think of where I could be now if I replaced all that time scrolling through my phone with writing, planning, and learning. Sure, I might verbally blame it on a busy work or school schedule, but I know the truth. I have to value that process and believe in it more. Get down and dirty with the process. Let it make a fool of me and call me mean names. Confront the process. Write and direct an anime battle scene with the process. Keep going until the process does a heel-turn and becomes a good pal. And so should you. Crack open that six month old Word document, I triple-dog dare you. I am getting older. Don’t quite like the idea of being the “one of these days I’ll…” guy at dinner parties. If it is inside you, don’t Tetris it around anymore. Start somewhere. Good luck.

Writing Without Fear

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Up until college I had been homeschooled my whole life. It wasn’t until I reached high school age that it became very apparent to me that I couldn’t relate to the social struggles of my peers. Whether at soccer practice or in youth group, everyone was either complaining about their teachers, gossiping about their fellow students, or making plans for prom. When I didn’t chime in on their conversation they’d turn to me, expecting me to join in. That’s when I had to explain to them, “I’m homeschooled.” Typically, they’d nod their heads and say “Oh” before continuing their conversation without me. I had always hated telling people about my education, mainly because of all the stereotypes that came with it, like: no friends, no social skills, prom at home with my brother, etc… I distinctly remember a time when I was at church, waiting in the lobby with the kids in my youth group. There was a girl going on about how homeschoolers are “so weird” and “have no social life,” that’s when my I piped up and said that I was homeschooled. The look on her face was pure shock, she even argued with me and said that “there’s no way you’re homeschooled, you’re too normal!”

I used to hate the fact that I was homeschooled, because many of my peers caused me to believe that my education was inferior to theirs. I often felt as though I wasn’t as smart as my public-school friends. Though I was never bullied for it, I noticed that people looked at me differently once they knew. Most people assumed that I couldn’t relate to their academic struggles while, in fact, I could in many ways. It was their social problems that were foreign to me. After all, I had no teachers to hate, unless you want to count the guy on the computer that taught me algebra. It took me a long time to realize that just because the location of my education was different, didn’t mean that my subject matter was any easier than theirs.

Being at home allowed me to focus on my education while avoiding all the drama and unneeded stress that my friends went through. I was also able to focus on my passion for writing. As a child, I was an avid reader. The book that got me hooked was Maximum Ride by James Patterson. After I finished that book, I began reading every type of young adult fiction I could find. Every time I came home with a new book, I would lock myself in my room and read for hours, typically finishing an average sized book in a day or two. I can’t remember when I realized it, but I knew that I wanted to be a writer when I grew up. As I grew older, I carried with me the idea of wanting to be a writer, but I continued to carry with me the fear that I wasn’t smart enough thanks to being homeschooled.

After I graduated high school, I took a year off school to decide whether college was for me. I knew that I wanted to be a writer, and that I wanted to go to college to improve my writing, but I still carried those childhood doubts. Though, one day, that all changed. I decided to put aside my self-doubt, get rid of my feelings of inadequacy, and prove to myself that I am smart enough. I am now the first in my family to obtain an associate degree, and it’s safe to say that my days of feeling inferior are far gone. 

To See Yourself

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I’ve always felt slightly different from other people, but I could never put my finger on what exactly it was that made me different. None of my friends seemed to feel the same way I did about certain things; my feelings weren’t portrayed by characters in the movies and shows I watched, and never appeared in the books I read. I assumed I was some weird anomaly and I would have to deal with feeling like I was alone on the subject for the rest of my life.

I was never able to understand my feelings before I found my place. I had no representation to compare myself to and help me navigate the rocky waters of understanding my sexuality. The young adult books I read dealt heavily with romance; whenever there were mentions of a character that didn’t fit the norm of sexual attraction they were disregarded and labeled weird, which didn’t help younger me feel any better about myself. The books released within the last couple of years have become much more inclusive than the books I was reading back in high school, when I was questioning myself. Even though there is more inclusivity, there are still groups being left out; it hasn’t been until the last year that I even was able to see characters like myself on the pages of books. Last December I was finally able to put a name to my differentness, I figured out I fall somewhere on the asexual spectrum in the LGBT+ community.

A few months ago I read the young adult novel Puddin’ by Julie Murphy; it was the first book that made me feel seen. There is a character, although they’re a side character they’re still a large part of the story, that identifies as ace and goes about explaining what exactly asexuality is; how there are so many different facets that people can fit into on the ace spectrum. After reading that scene, I remember putting the book down, taking a deep breath, and then clutching it to my chest with a gigantic smile as my eyes watered—for once in my life I could see myself represented. Let me tell you, it felt so good to see a character like me. There is no other feeling in the world that’s like seeing yourself represented.

Diversity has come a long way in literature from where it used to be, but there are still so many other identities that have yet to have their time to shine. I hope we get to see more of them represented because they deserve it. Everyone deserves to feel like they are represented; whether it be because of their ethnicity, sexual orientation, gender identity, etc. EVERYONE deserves to have that moment where they go, oh shit, that character’s just like me. I want others to have the same feeling I had when I first saw a character that was like me, and made me feel less alone in my journey of discovering who I am. Like I said, we’ve come a long way with diversity, but we still have a very long way to go.

Who Art Thou Mona Lisa?

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I was giddy with unspent energy as I traversed the halls of the Louvre. People shedding their winter coats walked down the checkered hallway, pausing to snap pictures of the headless Nike statue before moving on. Glass skylights illuminated a grand hallway with towering ceilings embellished in ornate carvings. I followed the congested flow of people, my school friends in tow, as we rushed past life-sized battle scenes, mythological images, and picturesque landscapes rendered in remarkable detail. The crowd slowed, and the top of a dark painting rested with a glass case on the wall. I saw Da Vinci’s famous lady, surrounded by people scrambling to get near, and I laughed.

She was small, and her colors were muted, but she monopolized everyone’s attention. She sat across from a grand painting ten times her size with ten times her vibrancy of color. She was underwhelming. Or perhaps, I was just very young.

I would later learn that my approach to art, and to the world, was still developing past its shallow stage. Appreciation of the arts was more complex than its surface level, and that to access something beyond a superficial approach was key in understanding not only the world, but myself as well.

I grew up on TV, fast ads, and colorful cereal boxes. My attention span was here and then out the window watching a cat climb a tree.  But I was living in a society that fostered my behavior. There was sugar in my breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Colorful signs trying to sell me something fast. Time was money, and money made the world go around. Worship it, worry over it, waste it. But do not waste time.

I didn’t have time to be staring out windows. I had to be focused on my grades, on sports, on my friends, on my social media. I had to worry about how my life appeared to colleges and how my face appeared to the world. Because those things were important, right?

It wasn’t until I got to college that I learned that I worry too much about the world’s perception of myself. I worry about the words I write on this page. That they will never be good enough. Never perfect.

But to create art in any form involves leaving yourself at the mercy of others’ scrutiny. It is my primary reason for writer’s block. Why I am constantly conflicted, because I am a writer that does not write as often as I should. Can I call myself a writer and admit that I sometimes hate writing? I tell myself to stop trying to fit into a box of what a writer should be and to just be me.

It’s a popular mantra now days. Just be yourself. And through living it, people are breaking down barriers not only in literature and writing, but in all facets of life. This freedom of expression allows for a plethora of diverse perspectives and allows us to look beyond the surface level to find greater understanding and greater human connectivity.

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