First of all, our list for the Critique Partner Blogfest is growing, but there's always room for more. If you're looking for someone to read your work, or if you're looking for something new to read, check it out ^_^ (Yes, I'll keep bringing this up until Feb 13 is done and gone. We'd love to pull in as many of you talented authors as we can).
When I was in junior high and high school, one of my least favorite classes every single year was English. This is possibly unfortunate for someone who wants to be a writer. I had a couple of complaints about the entire process.
When I took math, the curriculum changed year-to-year: algebra, geometry, trig, calculus. There was always a new kind of math to learn (or not learn, in my case). History and science were the same thing. There's world history, biology, US history, chemistry, etc, etc.
But for us at least, English was the same every year. In our house growing up, we were talk to speak correctly. You may not know it from the way I talk online, but my parents were strict grammartarians (which is, apparently, not a word). So, having to sit in a class room for six years in a row, and learn the difference between past and present tense, plural and possessive, first and third person...it all got a little old.
One year, our English teacher thought it would be a good idea to make us memorize lists of words. Like, she made us memorize a list of prepositions. Memorization isn't an issue for me. My brain works that way. Fortunately, I didn't have to do it anyway because she left the list hanging on the wall during the test.
The required reading changed from year to year, but at the time I didn't understand the concept of dissecting internal and external conflict, and so few of those stories held my attention. A kid can only read 'Great Expectations' so many times before visions of Mrs. Havishom in that wedding gown start to give them nightmares.
Anyway, that's all back story, because I like laying that out. The point is, I didn't like the tests we had to take or the book reports we had to write or the countless repetitive grammar lessons (though maybe if I'd listened I'd know how to use commas today).
So (see yesterday's post for a point of reference on how much I thought of my writing prowess at the time), one day I decided I would win my teacher's heart forever and show her how much I was wasting my time doing menial work.
Instead of turning in my book report, I turned in a two page story I had written. Because I knew that once she read my brilliant prose, she would be so swept away that she would contact the people that all English teachers must know, and I would be a world-famous author and everyone would know how amazing I was.
She was not as impressed as I had hoped, and instead lectured me rather loudly while the entire rest of the class was still in the room. Talk about humiliating. (As an aside, other things I did to get myself humiliated in junior high: write letters to my favorite celebrities asking them if I could use their likenesses in my stories in *ahem* 'compromising' scenes. And that wouldn't have been embarrassing if I hadn't thrown them in the trash for a random person to find and read aloud in the middle of the hallway).
Anyway. That single experience with my teacher taught me one of the most valuable lessons I could have learned, and honestly I'm glad I learned it when I was 12, and not when I was 30 and querying for the first time.
No one is above the rules. And the odds of being the one person who is that exceptional are so infinitesimally low that it's not worth pissing someone off when you don't fall inside that .0001%. It's worth the effort to try and do it right. Sure, it's rarely still exactly right the first time or two, but if you 1 - tried, and 2 - are willing to learn from the experience, that counts for a lot.
Anyone else ever do something that side of embarrassing in school?
When I was in junior high and high school, one of my least favorite classes every single year was English. This is possibly unfortunate for someone who wants to be a writer. I had a couple of complaints about the entire process.
When I took math, the curriculum changed year-to-year: algebra, geometry, trig, calculus. There was always a new kind of math to learn (or not learn, in my case). History and science were the same thing. There's world history, biology, US history, chemistry, etc, etc.
But for us at least, English was the same every year. In our house growing up, we were talk to speak correctly. You may not know it from the way I talk online, but my parents were strict grammartarians (which is, apparently, not a word). So, having to sit in a class room for six years in a row, and learn the difference between past and present tense, plural and possessive, first and third person...it all got a little old.
One year, our English teacher thought it would be a good idea to make us memorize lists of words. Like, she made us memorize a list of prepositions. Memorization isn't an issue for me. My brain works that way. Fortunately, I didn't have to do it anyway because she left the list hanging on the wall during the test.
The required reading changed from year to year, but at the time I didn't understand the concept of dissecting internal and external conflict, and so few of those stories held my attention. A kid can only read 'Great Expectations' so many times before visions of Mrs. Havishom in that wedding gown start to give them nightmares.
Anyway, that's all back story, because I like laying that out. The point is, I didn't like the tests we had to take or the book reports we had to write or the countless repetitive grammar lessons (though maybe if I'd listened I'd know how to use commas today).
So (see yesterday's post for a point of reference on how much I thought of my writing prowess at the time), one day I decided I would win my teacher's heart forever and show her how much I was wasting my time doing menial work.
Instead of turning in my book report, I turned in a two page story I had written. Because I knew that once she read my brilliant prose, she would be so swept away that she would contact the people that all English teachers must know, and I would be a world-famous author and everyone would know how amazing I was.
She was not as impressed as I had hoped, and instead lectured me rather loudly while the entire rest of the class was still in the room. Talk about humiliating. (As an aside, other things I did to get myself humiliated in junior high: write letters to my favorite celebrities asking them if I could use their likenesses in my stories in *ahem* 'compromising' scenes. And that wouldn't have been embarrassing if I hadn't thrown them in the trash for a random person to find and read aloud in the middle of the hallway).
Anyway. That single experience with my teacher taught me one of the most valuable lessons I could have learned, and honestly I'm glad I learned it when I was 12, and not when I was 30 and querying for the first time.
No one is above the rules. And the odds of being the one person who is that exceptional are so infinitesimally low that it's not worth pissing someone off when you don't fall inside that .0001%. It's worth the effort to try and do it right. Sure, it's rarely still exactly right the first time or two, but if you 1 - tried, and 2 - are willing to learn from the experience, that counts for a lot.
Anyone else ever do something that side of embarrassing in school?
