Here's to 2009 and all the changes it will bring.
I can't wait!
12.31.2008
12.25.2008
Never too old
I suppose I thought it was another part of being an adult, losing the suprise factor of Christmas Day. I didn't mind so much, because adulthood means practicality in my mind. For example, I asked for winter boots for Christmas, but the snow comes before December, so Mom gave me boots for Thanksgiving. This is adult practicality. I got my Christmas present last month.
Now, stockings aren't included in this category, because with
Tony Thomas as Santa, you will always be surprised. This year:
Dr. Pepper LipSmackers...7th grade calling me back. Love it.
The recent trend has been gift cards and cash, both of which are welcome sights to teenagers. We spend money like it's going out of style, and these gifts keep us afloat. The giver might feel bad, like their gift is impersonal, but believe me, nothing screams "I love you" like a Visa Gift Card, valid anywhere Visa is accepted (which is everywhere).
So imagine my surprise when I open this on Christmas Day: the Olympus FE-340 (pictured below).
Red-hot, ultra-slim, 8 mega-
pixels, 5.0 optical zoom.
This is a sexy camera.
The idea didn't necessarily come out of left field; I'd asked for it for my birthday (along with a MacBook Pro and a hybrid car - the list wasn't entirely reasonable). When I didn't get it back in August, it slipped my mind. But my grandparents, the lovable Bob and Pinky, came through.
Thank you, Grandma and Grandpa, for letting me feel like a kid at Christmas. You've proved that you're never too old for a Christmas surprise.
Now, stockings aren't included in this category, because with
Tony Thomas as Santa, you will always be surprised. This year:
Dr. Pepper LipSmackers...7th grade calling me back. Love it.
The recent trend has been gift cards and cash, both of which are welcome sights to teenagers. We spend money like it's going out of style, and these gifts keep us afloat. The giver might feel bad, like their gift is impersonal, but believe me, nothing screams "I love you" like a Visa Gift Card, valid anywhere Visa is accepted (which is everywhere).
So imagine my surprise when I open this on Christmas Day: the Olympus FE-340 (pictured below).
Red-hot, ultra-slim, 8 mega-
pixels, 5.0 optical zoom.
This is a sexy camera.
The idea didn't necessarily come out of left field; I'd asked for it for my birthday (along with a MacBook Pro and a hybrid car - the list wasn't entirely reasonable). When I didn't get it back in August, it slipped my mind. But my grandparents, the lovable Bob and Pinky, came through.
Thank you, Grandma and Grandpa, for letting me feel like a kid at Christmas. You've proved that you're never too old for a Christmas surprise.
12.19.2008
Rest
This morning, I woke up at 11 o'clock with no classes, finals, projects, papers, presentations, meetings, or appointments looming over my head.
I have finished the most difficult semester on record and I survived.
In one hour, I'm leaving Wheaton for my very last Christmas Break. I plan on sleeping a lot, spending quality time with family, and surrounding myself with friends.
Then I plan on returning to Wheaton for my last semester ever.
It feels surreal. And it feels so good.
I have finished the most difficult semester on record and I survived.
In one hour, I'm leaving Wheaton for my very last Christmas Break. I plan on sleeping a lot, spending quality time with family, and surrounding myself with friends.
Then I plan on returning to Wheaton for my last semester ever.
It feels surreal. And it feels so good.
12.08.2008
Psychologizing Myself
Psychologize, v.: to explain behavior in psychological terms. As in, "I'll tell you something, but don't psychologize it too much."
-- The Maggie Thomas Dictionary of Living with Psychology Majors
It should figure that in a relationship, you learn more about the other person than you do about yourself. (Don't test that thesis, it may not hold up, but it sounded good in my head). In my relationship, there was very little self-discovery, but the past month of singleness has been jam-packed with it.
Things I've learned about myself:
It is far more likely that I will blame myself for failure of any kind than take the appropriate amount of responsibility.
The women in my life are a life-giving support system. They hold up the mirror that reflects myself back to me, and interpret what I see or don't see.
All I really need is another person to come alongside me and light a fire under my butt once in a while. (thank you, sara beth).
I've found the disconnection between heart and head permeates every part of me, and learning to connect the two will be my lifelong challenge.
Memory has a powerful hold on me, and while that hold may never lessen, covering old memories over with new ones is my immense source of joy.
I've identified the 3 most important men in my life (Grandpa, Dad, & Jake), and in stepping up and stepping in, they have redeemed my sense of security.
Motivation comes easily when I set small goals for myself. I respond best to baby steps, one day at a time.
Things I learned that I didn't want to know but will make me a better person:
I'm a jealous person, especially of other's success.
I lack self-discipline, especially when it comes to working out. Pep Talks to yourself on the elliptical machine seem to remedy this, however.
I am overly critical, of my writing in particular, but also of unchangeable outcomes.
I am judgmental of other people. This is the worst one.
I am weak and imperfect, but I am a work in progress.
Being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. -- Philippians 1:6
Goal of the week: run the Wheaton College Indoor Triathlon on President's Day (February).
-- The Maggie Thomas Dictionary of Living with Psychology Majors
It should figure that in a relationship, you learn more about the other person than you do about yourself. (Don't test that thesis, it may not hold up, but it sounded good in my head). In my relationship, there was very little self-discovery, but the past month of singleness has been jam-packed with it.
Things I've learned about myself:
It is far more likely that I will blame myself for failure of any kind than take the appropriate amount of responsibility.
The women in my life are a life-giving support system. They hold up the mirror that reflects myself back to me, and interpret what I see or don't see.
All I really need is another person to come alongside me and light a fire under my butt once in a while. (thank you, sara beth).
I've found the disconnection between heart and head permeates every part of me, and learning to connect the two will be my lifelong challenge.
Memory has a powerful hold on me, and while that hold may never lessen, covering old memories over with new ones is my immense source of joy.
I've identified the 3 most important men in my life (Grandpa, Dad, & Jake), and in stepping up and stepping in, they have redeemed my sense of security.
Motivation comes easily when I set small goals for myself. I respond best to baby steps, one day at a time.
Things I learned that I didn't want to know but will make me a better person:
I'm a jealous person, especially of other's success.
I lack self-discipline, especially when it comes to working out. Pep Talks to yourself on the elliptical machine seem to remedy this, however.
I am overly critical, of my writing in particular, but also of unchangeable outcomes.
I am judgmental of other people. This is the worst one.
I am weak and imperfect, but I am a work in progress.
Being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. -- Philippians 1:6
Goal of the week: run the Wheaton College Indoor Triathlon on President's Day (February).
11.03.2008
Life Changes Fast.
Joan Didion reminded me that life, indeed, changes fast and in the instant. In this season of change, I cling to these verses.
"But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me." - II Corinthians 12:9
"In Christ alone my hope is found. He is my light, my strength, my song. This cornerstone, this solid ground, firm through the fiercest drought and storm. What heights of love, what depths of peace, when fears are stilled, when strivings cease. My comforter, my all in all, here in the love of Christ I stand."
"But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord endures. His mercies never come to an end. They are new every morning. Great is thy faithfulness!"The Lord is my portion," says my soul, "therefore I will hope in him." The Lord is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him. It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord." - Lamentations 3:21-26
"Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for He who promised is faithful." - Hebrews 10:23
"But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me." - II Corinthians 12:9
"In Christ alone my hope is found. He is my light, my strength, my song. This cornerstone, this solid ground, firm through the fiercest drought and storm. What heights of love, what depths of peace, when fears are stilled, when strivings cease. My comforter, my all in all, here in the love of Christ I stand."
"But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord endures. His mercies never come to an end. They are new every morning. Great is thy faithfulness!"The Lord is my portion," says my soul, "therefore I will hope in him." The Lord is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him. It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord." - Lamentations 3:21-26
"Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for He who promised is faithful." - Hebrews 10:23
10.25.2008
My journalism professor Dr. Schuchardt provided the following quote on our syllabus. It has followed me around for about 8 weeks now, and I'm finally beginning to understand its meaning.
"There is no such thing, at this date of the world's history, in America, as an independent press. You know it and I know it.
There is not one of you who dares to write your honest opinion, and if you did, you know beforehand that it would never appear in print. I am paid weekly for keeping my honest opinion out of the paper I am connected with. Others of you are paid similar salaries for similar things, and any of you who would be so foolish as to write honest opinions would out on the streets looking for another job. If I allowed my honest opinions to appear in one issue of my paper, before twenty-four hours my occupation would be gone.
The business of journalists is to destroy the truth, to lie outright, to pervert, to vilify, to fawn at the feet of mammon, and to sell his country and his race for his daily bread. You know it and I know it., and what folly is this toasting an independent press?
We are the tools and vassals of rich men behind the scenes. We are the jumping jacks, they pull the strings and we dance. Our talents, our possibilities and our lives all the property of other men. We are intellectual prostitutes."
- John Swinton, 1880
I've only recently begun to understand that this quote illuminates what we would call bias. I suppose I've seen this played out in my hometown newspaper, but I never thought about how it could affect me, should I choose print journalism someday. Dr. Schuchardt also got us in at the Chicago Tribune recently, and I noted that most of the quotes etched into the building centered around the connection between human liberties and a free press.
If the ideology behind a newspaper like the Tribune is that the existence of a free press equivocates the existence of true human liberties, but John Swinton asserts that there is no such thing as a free (independent) press, what does that say of human liberty?
"There is no such thing, at this date of the world's history, in America, as an independent press. You know it and I know it.
There is not one of you who dares to write your honest opinion, and if you did, you know beforehand that it would never appear in print. I am paid weekly for keeping my honest opinion out of the paper I am connected with. Others of you are paid similar salaries for similar things, and any of you who would be so foolish as to write honest opinions would out on the streets looking for another job. If I allowed my honest opinions to appear in one issue of my paper, before twenty-four hours my occupation would be gone.
The business of journalists is to destroy the truth, to lie outright, to pervert, to vilify, to fawn at the feet of mammon, and to sell his country and his race for his daily bread. You know it and I know it., and what folly is this toasting an independent press?
We are the tools and vassals of rich men behind the scenes. We are the jumping jacks, they pull the strings and we dance. Our talents, our possibilities and our lives all the property of other men. We are intellectual prostitutes."
- John Swinton, 1880
I've only recently begun to understand that this quote illuminates what we would call bias. I suppose I've seen this played out in my hometown newspaper, but I never thought about how it could affect me, should I choose print journalism someday. Dr. Schuchardt also got us in at the Chicago Tribune recently, and I noted that most of the quotes etched into the building centered around the connection between human liberties and a free press.
If the ideology behind a newspaper like the Tribune is that the existence of a free press equivocates the existence of true human liberties, but John Swinton asserts that there is no such thing as a free (independent) press, what does that say of human liberty?
10.14.2008
The Woman Warrior: a literary reflection
Obviously, I'm a multidimensional person. Not only do I write creative nonfiction about my life, but I'm also an academic. The following is a reflection I wrote today regarding Maxine Hong Kingston's The Woman Warrior: Memoirs of a Girlhood Among Ghosts. As a collection of essays, it's a really fantastic example of the non-Western circular literary philosophy and I recommend it whole-heartedly.
Hong Kingston's narrative has been escribed as "a dream--of the 'female avenger.'" In what ways does this narrative blur distinctions of reality? And what result does it effect with regard to the reader, form beginning to end?
My feelings on the distinctions of reality are as follows: I think Maxine (yes, we're on a first-name basis) takes many liberties in regards to the flexibility of her genre. The essay "White Tigers" is clearly fantastical and more than a little imaginative. In this way, Maxine bends the limitations of the nonfiction memoir genre. She incorporates almost certainly fictional responses with her honest and realistic experiences. But really, who's to say she can't, or shouldn't, or oughtn't? I feel like Max can do whatever she wants with her narrative; the issues only arise when we as the literary community try to pin her down in one genre.
The result of her genre-bending on the reader is, in a word, perplexing (or perplexification). We, who are trained analytically, cannot grapple with the concept of a fluid genre, of subject-to-change classification. Instead we sit back and critique Max for not playing by the rules. We may grow increasingly agitated, as we continue through the collection, by her wishy-washy-ness. "Just choose fiction or non-fiction, already, Max. You can't do both in the same essay!" This attitudinal response is appropriate and understandable, but I do not share it.
I read with anticipation; eager to discover what "hard and fast" rule Max would break next. What? I wondered She critiques both Chinese and American cultures? She didn't choose one to defend? This is awesome!
The subtitle would suggest that these reflections are her girlhood-- her child-self processing through her heritage. Of course, there are imaginative elements, then, she's just a girl here.
My classmate posed the question "Who is Maxine Hong Kingston: the warrior woman or the girl among ghosts?" and another classmate offered that this unanswered question is a strength, not a weakness of the book. My thoughts are that The book requires no answer, no resolution. It is an exploration of a girlhood, and what child answers those deep questions for themselves?
Hong Kingston's narrative has been escribed as "a dream--of the 'female avenger.'" In what ways does this narrative blur distinctions of reality? And what result does it effect with regard to the reader, form beginning to end?
My feelings on the distinctions of reality are as follows: I think Maxine (yes, we're on a first-name basis) takes many liberties in regards to the flexibility of her genre. The essay "White Tigers" is clearly fantastical and more than a little imaginative. In this way, Maxine bends the limitations of the nonfiction memoir genre. She incorporates almost certainly fictional responses with her honest and realistic experiences. But really, who's to say she can't, or shouldn't, or oughtn't? I feel like Max can do whatever she wants with her narrative; the issues only arise when we as the literary community try to pin her down in one genre.
The result of her genre-bending on the reader is, in a word, perplexing (or perplexification). We, who are trained analytically, cannot grapple with the concept of a fluid genre, of subject-to-change classification. Instead we sit back and critique Max for not playing by the rules. We may grow increasingly agitated, as we continue through the collection, by her wishy-washy-ness. "Just choose fiction or non-fiction, already, Max. You can't do both in the same essay!" This attitudinal response is appropriate and understandable, but I do not share it.
I read with anticipation; eager to discover what "hard and fast" rule Max would break next. What? I wondered She critiques both Chinese and American cultures? She didn't choose one to defend? This is awesome!
The subtitle would suggest that these reflections are her girlhood-- her child-self processing through her heritage. Of course, there are imaginative elements, then, she's just a girl here.
My classmate posed the question "Who is Maxine Hong Kingston: the warrior woman or the girl among ghosts?" and another classmate offered that this unanswered question is a strength, not a weakness of the book. My thoughts are that The book requires no answer, no resolution. It is an exploration of a girlhood, and what child answers those deep questions for themselves?
10.08.2008
The Writing Major, Or Why I Will Work at Starbucks
It's the eternal question: "What are you doing after you graduate?" Actually, not eternal, but at the very least recurring, since I remember it vividly from 4 years ago. Why everyone is so obsessed with the next phase is beyond me. Don't they care about right now?
Unfortunately, I don't have a good answer to this question (and, if I remember correctly, I didn't have a punctual answer last time, either). I usually attempt a witty reply like "I'm not sure - when you find out, will you let me know?" because the truth is so embarrassingly banal: "I have no plans as of right now. Due to my procrastination and the impractical nature of my liberal arts education, I'll be wandering aimlessly back to my parents' basement and waking up at 4am to serve espresso to the highly ambitious."
A classmate of mine recently called me out on my affected pessimism. Rest assured, I don't actually believe my education is an impractical waste. I would have quit long ago, before the loans started stacking up, if I thought my education would prove useless. But honestly, I've only started questioning its practicality as of late. Objectively, my degree has not given me a trade or a specific skill set. I knew how to put words into sentences before I came to Wheaton.
In my Writing Capstone class, I've been confronted (assaulted, really) by the theory behind my degree and what I actually believe writing is, what it changes, what it could be. Having arrived at the end of my formal writing education, I do not believe that there is a universal standard for "good writing" because I've come to see it as such a subjective art. Sure, there are standards for publish-able writing or best-selling writing, but isn't writing "good writing" if it satisfies an audience (even if that audience is only your mom)?
I love my mom and I value her opinion of my writing, but God love her, she loves everything I write - even the crap I write on a deadline. That stuff isn't going to get published, but my mom reads it and is full of praise for me. And I love that about my mom. And she's probably the reason I've kept writing all these years. Every writer needs someone who believes they could be the Poet Laureate, and my mom is that person for me. But just because I can write stuff my mom likes doesn't mean I'm going to make it as a writer. I've certainly come to doubt my ability to make a living doing it.
I know that I don't possess the life experience necessary to begin a writing career next May. I know that. It's been a steady realization. It's not a surprise, even. But I am also confident that I will continue writing. It enriches my life, gives me an opportunity to process my world, and helps me connect my heart and my head. Writing has never been about audience for me, and I realize that separates me from every marketable author ever, but it doesn't diminish the personal value of the practice of writing.
So even if I never make it as a journalist, even if my memoir never hits the NY Times Bestseller list, I'll keep writing, even if it's just for me and Mom.
Unfortunately, I don't have a good answer to this question (and, if I remember correctly, I didn't have a punctual answer last time, either). I usually attempt a witty reply like "I'm not sure - when you find out, will you let me know?" because the truth is so embarrassingly banal: "I have no plans as of right now. Due to my procrastination and the impractical nature of my liberal arts education, I'll be wandering aimlessly back to my parents' basement and waking up at 4am to serve espresso to the highly ambitious."
A classmate of mine recently called me out on my affected pessimism. Rest assured, I don't actually believe my education is an impractical waste. I would have quit long ago, before the loans started stacking up, if I thought my education would prove useless. But honestly, I've only started questioning its practicality as of late. Objectively, my degree has not given me a trade or a specific skill set. I knew how to put words into sentences before I came to Wheaton.
In my Writing Capstone class, I've been confronted (assaulted, really) by the theory behind my degree and what I actually believe writing is, what it changes, what it could be. Having arrived at the end of my formal writing education, I do not believe that there is a universal standard for "good writing" because I've come to see it as such a subjective art. Sure, there are standards for publish-able writing or best-selling writing, but isn't writing "good writing" if it satisfies an audience (even if that audience is only your mom)?
I love my mom and I value her opinion of my writing, but God love her, she loves everything I write - even the crap I write on a deadline. That stuff isn't going to get published, but my mom reads it and is full of praise for me. And I love that about my mom. And she's probably the reason I've kept writing all these years. Every writer needs someone who believes they could be the Poet Laureate, and my mom is that person for me. But just because I can write stuff my mom likes doesn't mean I'm going to make it as a writer. I've certainly come to doubt my ability to make a living doing it.
I know that I don't possess the life experience necessary to begin a writing career next May. I know that. It's been a steady realization. It's not a surprise, even. But I am also confident that I will continue writing. It enriches my life, gives me an opportunity to process my world, and helps me connect my heart and my head. Writing has never been about audience for me, and I realize that separates me from every marketable author ever, but it doesn't diminish the personal value of the practice of writing.
So even if I never make it as a journalist, even if my memoir never hits the NY Times Bestseller list, I'll keep writing, even if it's just for me and Mom.
9.24.2008
after all we're only human
My roommates and I are attending a breast cancer benefit in the city next week, and Jon McLaughlin is performing. I was looking up some of his older songs tonight, and I ran across this one, Human. It perfectly sums up this stage of my life, and I found myself strangely encouraged.
Can you tell me how we got in this situation,
I can’t seem to get you off my mind,
all these ups and downs,
they trip up our good intentions,
nobody said this was easy ride.
After all we’re only human,
always fighting what we’re feeling,
hurt instead of healing,
after all we’re only human,
is there any other reason why we stay instead of leavin’ after all
Can we get back to the point of this conversation,
when we saw things through each others eyes,
cause now all I see is ruin and devastation,
we all need some place we can hide inside.
I’m smart enough to know,
that life goes by,
and it leaves a trail of broken hearts behind,
if you feel I’m letting go,
just give me time,
I’ll come running to your side.
Can you tell me how we got in this situation,
I can’t seem to get you off my mind,
all these ups and downs,
they trip up our good intentions,
nobody said this was easy ride.
After all we’re only human,
always fighting what we’re feeling,
hurt instead of healing,
after all we’re only human,
is there any other reason why we stay instead of leavin’ after all
Can we get back to the point of this conversation,
when we saw things through each others eyes,
cause now all I see is ruin and devastation,
we all need some place we can hide inside.
I’m smart enough to know,
that life goes by,
and it leaves a trail of broken hearts behind,
if you feel I’m letting go,
just give me time,
I’ll come running to your side.
8.12.2008
Depth on a Tuesday
It is a rare occasion indeed when my house is empty and I have no demands upon my time. I do whatever I want because I have the house to myself. And I know that being alone is so different from being lonely, but tonight, they were one and the same.
I rented this movie, see, and I bawled my way through it. This was no surprise to me, however, because the first time I saw it, I was in the theater and I bawled through it that time, too. Don't ask me why I do these things to myself, it's probably a wound hidden deep within my psyche that I am subconsciously suppressing. I don't even want to know.
So that's what I did tonight: I watched this movie, ate watermelon, and cried. By myself. In an empty house. During a rainstorm.
I suppose the movie's message is that you must go out and live your life regardless of what it throws at you. But honestly, it just released this deep fear inside me that the same thing could happen to me and Jesse and then I'll be really alone and really lonely. He's the one who taught me about preparing for life's what-ifs and God-forbids, and financial preparation is all well and good, but you can't prepare for death even if you know ahead of time. After all affairs are in order, I would still have to exist in a world where he is not, and I just don't think I could prepare for something like that.
All these existential feelings have left this ache in me that I can only explain as wanting to go home. And the problem with going home is that home is a really fuzzy concept for me right now. If I've learned anything this summer, it's that home has so much less to do with location and so much more to do with people. Right now, home is still with my family and my best friends, but home has also become where Jess is. Even if I wanted to keep all the pieces together, home is going to be spread out between states and people that I love and care about and no place is going to feel entirely like home. I wonder when that will change. I wonder if that will change.
8.11.2008
Efficiency
I love to make lists. I like itemizing, checking off, watching my progress, and feeling productive. I even add things to my to-do list after I've finished them just for the satisfaction of crossing them off. I do it with packing lists, to-do lists, textbook lists; I have an entire notebook just for "listing," as I have named this hobby. Part of it is obsessive-compulsive, part of it is organized, but most of it is genetic. Oh, how you wish your mom was Organized Audrey.
But getting back to listing...I made a "Don't Panic To-Do List: Pre-Wheaton." (Its counterpart is "To-Do List: Post-Wheaton" for when I roll into town on the 23rd.) It is massive and overwhelming and kind of sends me into a panic attack. But I'm slogging through it item-by-item (what good is an itemized list if you don't follow it item-by-item?) and making headway.
I started using my planner again, and have been delightfully surprised by the stability it brings me. I've had little use for it this summer, as all my appointments (or lack thereof) have been manageable and made less than 24 hours in advance. Today I made appointments and booked travel late into September, so it's time to start writing it down.
Alas, it seems that the more items I accomplish, the more things I find to do around here. Isn't that the way it always goes? It will be a miracle if I make it back to Chicago with my brain intact.
But getting back to listing...I made a "Don't Panic To-Do List: Pre-Wheaton." (Its counterpart is "To-Do List: Post-Wheaton" for when I roll into town on the 23rd.) It is massive and overwhelming and kind of sends me into a panic attack. But I'm slogging through it item-by-item (what good is an itemized list if you don't follow it item-by-item?) and making headway.
I started using my planner again, and have been delightfully surprised by the stability it brings me. I've had little use for it this summer, as all my appointments (or lack thereof) have been manageable and made less than 24 hours in advance. Today I made appointments and booked travel late into September, so it's time to start writing it down.
Alas, it seems that the more items I accomplish, the more things I find to do around here. Isn't that the way it always goes? It will be a miracle if I make it back to Chicago with my brain intact.
8.07.2008
The First Last
I wish someone had sat me down in May and said, "Hang on tight, this summer will be gone before you know it!" Then again, I probably wouldn't have believed it. I would now, though.
So many things about this summer makes it stand out in my life: The changes, the opportunities, the general feeling of difference. I've never had a summer like this one, and from what I can see of my future, I'll never have another like it. The sheer novelty makes this one worth hanging on to. And it's already wrapping up.
Today was my last day at Bethany. I technically belonged to Sales/Marketing this week, so I got to work on two Internet newsletters and I met with different people in marketing and publicity. It wasn't as thorough as I hoped it would be, but it was only 2.5 days and I still learned about the department. I went to a Creative Team meeting this morning, and while I was a perfectly mute observer, it was surreal to hear them discuss cover options for books. As a consumer, I had no idea so much effort and creative thought goes into a book cover. As an intern, I now understand that a cover can make or break sales in multiple markets.
I still handled some editorial projects on the side, too. I got to do a blue line check on a manuscript I'd read in its original format during my first week. It was a nice way to wrap up my time in Editorial. Look for A Constant Heart to hit shelves this fall - it's a great story about 17th century Elizabethan court life. I think it drops on September 1st.
General highlights from the final week:
This morning I still had a substantial amount of work to do on the newsletters, and was worried I wouldn't get it done, but in true ESFJ-fashion, I pulled it off with 7 minutes to spare.
I received a touching birthday card signed by everyone that I will treasure always. It's truly a blessing to receive support and encouragement from a team such as the Editorial department.
Charlene surprised me with a DQ ice cream cake in honor of my departure. I felt so loved (and my ego felt very puffed up).
I had a delightful conversation with Dave Lewis (one of the higher-ups in another division of Baker Publishing Group) and this morning I sent him an email thanking him for his time and for sharing his wisdom. He responded in kind, and also said if I'm ever in need of another internship I should talk to him! My business-savvy father always said it's not what you know but who you know. I'm building up my connections, Dad!
Luke, one of the line editors, encouraged me in my career aspirations and reminded me that the industry needs true disciples in secular publishing houses, not just in Christian ones. He suggested, "If I were you, in my twenties and newly graduated, I would head straight for Manhattan." And while I'm pretty sure Manhattan would eat me alive, he's got a point. From this summer at BHP, I've discovered a specific and intriguing career path with exponential potential for growth. Book publishing is a place I would feel at home at. (And don't bother trying to correct all the grammatical errors in that sentence, even editorial interns make mistakes.)
In summary, I've learned so much this summer. I've learned that I feel a little claustrophobic at a desk job, but my love for words (and putting them in the correct order with proper punctuation) has only grown. I've learned that my place is certainly in editorial, not in marketing like I'd suspected. I've learned that there is no better place to have a first internship than at Bethany House Publishers, where the people are genuine and the projects bring home the hardware! (2008 Christy Awards? BHP dominated.)
And now, just because I know Dave and Charlene will somehow stumble onto this blog, a HUGE thank you. None of what I learned this summer would have made any sense without your guidance and patience. May God bless you richly for all you've done for me this summer. What a blessing you both are.
So many things about this summer makes it stand out in my life: The changes, the opportunities, the general feeling of difference. I've never had a summer like this one, and from what I can see of my future, I'll never have another like it. The sheer novelty makes this one worth hanging on to. And it's already wrapping up.
Today was my last day at Bethany. I technically belonged to Sales/Marketing this week, so I got to work on two Internet newsletters and I met with different people in marketing and publicity. It wasn't as thorough as I hoped it would be, but it was only 2.5 days and I still learned about the department. I went to a Creative Team meeting this morning, and while I was a perfectly mute observer, it was surreal to hear them discuss cover options for books. As a consumer, I had no idea so much effort and creative thought goes into a book cover. As an intern, I now understand that a cover can make or break sales in multiple markets.
I still handled some editorial projects on the side, too. I got to do a blue line check on a manuscript I'd read in its original format during my first week. It was a nice way to wrap up my time in Editorial. Look for A Constant Heart to hit shelves this fall - it's a great story about 17th century Elizabethan court life. I think it drops on September 1st.
General highlights from the final week:
This morning I still had a substantial amount of work to do on the newsletters, and was worried I wouldn't get it done, but in true ESFJ-fashion, I pulled it off with 7 minutes to spare.
I received a touching birthday card signed by everyone that I will treasure always. It's truly a blessing to receive support and encouragement from a team such as the Editorial department.
Charlene surprised me with a DQ ice cream cake in honor of my departure. I felt so loved (and my ego felt very puffed up).
I had a delightful conversation with Dave Lewis (one of the higher-ups in another division of Baker Publishing Group) and this morning I sent him an email thanking him for his time and for sharing his wisdom. He responded in kind, and also said if I'm ever in need of another internship I should talk to him! My business-savvy father always said it's not what you know but who you know. I'm building up my connections, Dad!
Luke, one of the line editors, encouraged me in my career aspirations and reminded me that the industry needs true disciples in secular publishing houses, not just in Christian ones. He suggested, "If I were you, in my twenties and newly graduated, I would head straight for Manhattan." And while I'm pretty sure Manhattan would eat me alive, he's got a point. From this summer at BHP, I've discovered a specific and intriguing career path with exponential potential for growth. Book publishing is a place I would feel at home at. (And don't bother trying to correct all the grammatical errors in that sentence, even editorial interns make mistakes.)
In summary, I've learned so much this summer. I've learned that I feel a little claustrophobic at a desk job, but my love for words (and putting them in the correct order with proper punctuation) has only grown. I've learned that my place is certainly in editorial, not in marketing like I'd suspected. I've learned that there is no better place to have a first internship than at Bethany House Publishers, where the people are genuine and the projects bring home the hardware! (2008 Christy Awards? BHP dominated.)
And now, just because I know Dave and Charlene will somehow stumble onto this blog, a HUGE thank you. None of what I learned this summer would have made any sense without your guidance and patience. May God bless you richly for all you've done for me this summer. What a blessing you both are.
7.10.2008
Star Sightings...sort of
I took the bus to Chicago 3 weeks ago. The trip was long and horrible, but I brought a good book. A great book, actually. This book: Danny Gospel, by David Athey.
I can't put my finger on what exactly makes it so great, which, I'm sure, is what makes it so great. It feels like a stream of consciousness. I actually reveled in the frustrating subtlety. It was beautiful and frenetic and I was never 100% sure what was going on but it was such a fantastic thing. Good books make you happy while you're reading them. Great books make you feel uncomfortable while reading and exultant afterwards. As Dale Ahlquist, President of the American Chesterton Society said, "What is a song? It is a perfectly expressed emotion. It is words that dance. It is a place one returns to again and again, like a rhyme, like a home. It is a cry to heaven. Danny Gospel is a song. David Athey sings it."
Fast-forward three weeks to today. My boss Dave is standing at my office door saying, "You read Danny Gospel, right?" [I nod.] "The author, David Athey, is going to be in today." [My mouth drops.] Dave continues: "Want me to bring him by so you can meet him?" [I nod my head furiously.]
And then, 10 minutes later, David Athey is sitting in the chair across from my desk, asking me about Professor Stepanek from Wheaton's English department. I was simply stunned. He was so friendly and down-to-earth. We talked for a while about Wheaton and my internship at Bethany, and then I mustered the courage to ask about DG. Amazingly, he was willing to talk about it.
"It took me 18 years to write it," Athey said. "I didn't have an outline for this book, I had a character that talks in first person." Athey's novel certainly is an anomaly among other BHP novels. Most are plot-driven (as opposed to character-driven, like Athey's). And most are written in the third person past tense (Athey's is first person). Today in my office, he told me that his writing process was a lot like acting: he allowed this consuming character of Danny Gospel to do the talking, and Athey wrote it down. "Sometimes I would write two pages of dialogue and then realize it wasn't what he would say at all," Athey told me. "So I would get rid of it and try again."
And then, just like that, our conversation ended. "It was such a privilege to meet you, Mr. Athey," I enthused. I truly cannot ever remember being starstruck before. I've stood behind Meg Ryan in a line for the ladies' bathroom. I've screen-tested with Dennis Quaid. I've met Josh Duhamel at an autograph signing. And not until today did I ever get butterflies in my stomach while meeting someone of relative fame.
I think that says more about where my priorities are: that I would hold a novelist/poet/professor in higher esteem than a Hollywood celebrity assures me that I have my English-major head screwed on straight. Thank the Lord that I kept my wits about me enough to actually listen to what Athey was saying, instead of just marveling that he was actually talking to me.
My one regret? Not having my copy of Danny Gospel on hand to have him sign it.
Thank you, David Athey, for being so down-to-earth, for sitting in my little office and telling me about writing your first novel. Thank you for reminding me that writing is my passion.
And now, just because I love the book so much, read the opening lines then go out and buy it.
"We played our first concert by torchlight near the river. Free of charge, our old-fashioned act attracted a crowd to the hymns and spirituals that most people know by heart....We performed free concerts all over Iowa - at fairs, festivals, and churches. And we became so famous that people began forgetting our family name. Everyone started calling us the Gospel Family."
7.02.2008
The Missing Phenomenon
Though I hate writing 2 completely unrelated posts in one day, I've got a lot on my mind right now. I've left me no choice.
I just checked in on my (past/present/future/forever) roommate Ashley's blog, and in her most recently post she published a list of things she misses. While I heartily agree with most all the things on her list, and even copied it with the intent to paste it here in my post, I think it may be more cathartic for me to write my own. She did such a great job, though, I'll embed her list in mine. Ashy, just think of me as your personal PR rep. I'm getting your name and your ideas out there!
Things I miss: being the good kind of stressed, having a reason to write, checking in with my Admissions office moms every day, making spaghetti for 20 of my closest college friends, going to the beach for labor day ("guys, i have a new most embarrassing moment"), those stupid but endearing get-to-know-you games on the first day of class, New Testament with Huizenga, Grande Grupo and the Reunion Tour in Spanish Lit, always having a standing dinner date with the roomies, yelling out of windows (read: throwing water balloons) in Terrace, the shower caddy that always fell down, yelling "Sayrah Bayeth" an obnoxious number of times, doing group yoga at the condo in CO, shinsplints from walking to and from Terrace 4 times a day, even in the winter, Jukebox meetings, walking to Jesse's after work on Mondays and Wednesdays, Life Church with Ashley, screaming at football games, going to Macaroni Grille 10 million times, dance parties with glowsticks and Graham, almond-crusted stuffed french toast from Egglectic, $60 trips to Target, celebrating birthdays, interviews and article-writing for the Record, seeing my name in print 3 times, collapsing exhausted into bed after writing a paper or getting off work, borrowing my friends' cute clothes, the Christmas party of 1047 B3 & B4, dancing to Chris Brown and (dare i say it?) Miley Cyrus, stuffed peaches in saga, watching Project Runway on youtube, the Thursday night Office crowd, lunch right after chapel, not ever doing my homework until the last minute, Jayj falling asleep on the couch every weekend night, cramming into Amy's room in Fischer, getting free therapy from the roomies, sitting on the blue couch and crying with Ash over Into the Wild, just sitting together in the apartment and contemplating being ourselves.
I just checked in on my (past/present/future/forever) roommate Ashley's blog, and in her most recently post she published a list of things she misses. While I heartily agree with most all the things on her list, and even copied it with the intent to paste it here in my post, I think it may be more cathartic for me to write my own. She did such a great job, though, I'll embed her list in mine. Ashy, just think of me as your personal PR rep. I'm getting your name and your ideas out there!
Things I miss: being the good kind of stressed, having a reason to write, checking in with my Admissions office moms every day, making spaghetti for 20 of my closest college friends, going to the beach for labor day ("guys, i have a new most embarrassing moment"), those stupid but endearing get-to-know-you games on the first day of class, New Testament with Huizenga, Grande Grupo and the Reunion Tour in Spanish Lit, always having a standing dinner date with the roomies, yelling out of windows (read: throwing water balloons) in Terrace, the shower caddy that always fell down, yelling "Sayrah Bayeth" an obnoxious number of times, doing group yoga at the condo in CO, shinsplints from walking to and from Terrace 4 times a day, even in the winter, Jukebox meetings, walking to Jesse's after work on Mondays and Wednesdays, Life Church with Ashley, screaming at football games, going to Macaroni Grille 10 million times, dance parties with glowsticks and Graham, almond-crusted stuffed french toast from Egglectic, $60 trips to Target, celebrating birthdays, interviews and article-writing for the Record, seeing my name in print 3 times, collapsing exhausted into bed after writing a paper or getting off work, borrowing my friends' cute clothes, the Christmas party of 1047 B3 & B4, dancing to Chris Brown and (dare i say it?) Miley Cyrus, stuffed peaches in saga, watching Project Runway on youtube, the Thursday night Office crowd, lunch right after chapel, not ever doing my homework until the last minute, Jayj falling asleep on the couch every weekend night, cramming into Amy's room in Fischer, getting free therapy from the roomies, sitting on the blue couch and crying with Ash over Into the Wild, just sitting together in the apartment and contemplating being ourselves.
Accomplishments
Welcome to Internship Heaven, where meetings are not boring, where people thank you for your hard work and assure you of a job well done, where you complete a 699-page proofreading project 6 days before deadline. Welcome to the Best Day Ever.
I've had galleys for an omnibus (4 books in one) of Janette Oke's Seasons of the Heart series on my desk since June 17th, due July 8th. It was a massive brick of blue paper 7 inches high. And after logging an estimated 20+ hours poring over pages (and pages and pages and pages), I finished my first official proofread today.
Granted, it wasn't the most difficult of manuscripts - these 4 books were published years ago and edited many times before going to print - but it's been a while and times have changed. I managed to catch quite a few errors, of which I'm quite proud, including some glaring misspellings and even a politically incorrect phrase. Nota bene: It is no longer appropriate to print the phrase "gypped out" because that is derogatory towards ethnic Gypsies.
I've also been given a new project evaluating proofread manuscripts. It feels so great to have control over this project, so to speak - to set the parameters, establish a system, and weigh the practical value of the project. I'm glad they've entrusted it to me and I'm getting a lot of satisfaction from completing each manuscript.
Today I also sat down for a meeting with Dave, Vice President of Something-Something Fiction (editorial acquisitions, maybe? I can't remember). He encouraged me that I'm doing well as an intern and am actually contributing to the work of the company. Everyone loves a pat on the back, and today was simply glorious.
Unpaid or not, I'm loving this internship.
I've had galleys for an omnibus (4 books in one) of Janette Oke's Seasons of the Heart series on my desk since June 17th, due July 8th. It was a massive brick of blue paper 7 inches high. And after logging an estimated 20+ hours poring over pages (and pages and pages and pages), I finished my first official proofread today.
Granted, it wasn't the most difficult of manuscripts - these 4 books were published years ago and edited many times before going to print - but it's been a while and times have changed. I managed to catch quite a few errors, of which I'm quite proud, including some glaring misspellings and even a politically incorrect phrase. Nota bene: It is no longer appropriate to print the phrase "gypped out" because that is derogatory towards ethnic Gypsies.
I've also been given a new project evaluating proofread manuscripts. It feels so great to have control over this project, so to speak - to set the parameters, establish a system, and weigh the practical value of the project. I'm glad they've entrusted it to me and I'm getting a lot of satisfaction from completing each manuscript.
Today I also sat down for a meeting with Dave, Vice President of Something-Something Fiction (editorial acquisitions, maybe? I can't remember). He encouraged me that I'm doing well as an intern and am actually contributing to the work of the company. Everyone loves a pat on the back, and today was simply glorious.
Unpaid or not, I'm loving this internship.
6.23.2008
Great is Thy Faithfulness
Although I've just returned from an eventful weekend in Chicago, there are more pressing matters to process. Chicago will wait.
Last Wednesday, June 18th, my dad Tony and brother Jake survived a very serious canoe accident on the flooded Yellowstone River. The details are numerous and scary; I don't wish to recount them for the millionth time. Instead, I'll link you to the news article in Montana's Livingston Enterprise.
Here's what I'm left to sort through: Nothing bad ever happens with Dad. We've done many dangerous things together like hiking up steep muddy bluffs in the rain and getting an SUV stuck in a hole while treasure hunting (trespassing). But nothing terrible has ever happened. Dad is almost a security blanket. The man spent 2 years planning this trip - you can't tell me he wasn't prepared. They had plans, they had maps, they knew where to go and when to stop. But the river flooded, the currents strengthened, and the plans didn't matter. They were swept over the rapids anyways.
(At the risk of drawing an awful spiritual parallel here about how God's plans are mightier than man's, I'll avoid trying to make sense of this. I just want to talk it out.)
There are some things you don't ask a person, not even your own brother, but in those moments between knowing the water was cold and deciding it was too cold, I wonder at his thoughts. Was it a life-flashing-before-eyes experience? Did he feel peace or was the adrenaline coursing too fast? I don't know what it is to stare death in the face, to feel its chill and know its power, and to ultimately claim victory over it. But I know it is not the path of the feeble-minded. If I am certain of anything, it is that my baby brother is a man strong of heart and mind. He has a hand of blessing on his life I cannot comprehend, and I am confident he will live to earn this miracle. Jake doesn't waste anything but hot water - he won't waste this second chance.
I don't hear from God often, but I feel impressed so strongly that there is a reason Dad and Jake survived this accident. Now they've got to figure that out.
On a more practical note, the boys will take the next 3 weeks to explore all the old ghost towns in Montana and Wyoming on their way back home. This trip has altered, not ended. I am reminded of Robert Frost's comment: "In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on."
Praise God from whom all blessings flow.
Praise Him, all creatures here below.
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host.
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.
Last Wednesday, June 18th, my dad Tony and brother Jake survived a very serious canoe accident on the flooded Yellowstone River. The details are numerous and scary; I don't wish to recount them for the millionth time. Instead, I'll link you to the news article in Montana's Livingston Enterprise.
Here's what I'm left to sort through: Nothing bad ever happens with Dad. We've done many dangerous things together like hiking up steep muddy bluffs in the rain and getting an SUV stuck in a hole while treasure hunting (trespassing). But nothing terrible has ever happened. Dad is almost a security blanket. The man spent 2 years planning this trip - you can't tell me he wasn't prepared. They had plans, they had maps, they knew where to go and when to stop. But the river flooded, the currents strengthened, and the plans didn't matter. They were swept over the rapids anyways.
(At the risk of drawing an awful spiritual parallel here about how God's plans are mightier than man's, I'll avoid trying to make sense of this. I just want to talk it out.)
There are some things you don't ask a person, not even your own brother, but in those moments between knowing the water was cold and deciding it was too cold, I wonder at his thoughts. Was it a life-flashing-before-eyes experience? Did he feel peace or was the adrenaline coursing too fast? I don't know what it is to stare death in the face, to feel its chill and know its power, and to ultimately claim victory over it. But I know it is not the path of the feeble-minded. If I am certain of anything, it is that my baby brother is a man strong of heart and mind. He has a hand of blessing on his life I cannot comprehend, and I am confident he will live to earn this miracle. Jake doesn't waste anything but hot water - he won't waste this second chance.
I don't hear from God often, but I feel impressed so strongly that there is a reason Dad and Jake survived this accident. Now they've got to figure that out.
On a more practical note, the boys will take the next 3 weeks to explore all the old ghost towns in Montana and Wyoming on their way back home. This trip has altered, not ended. I am reminded of Robert Frost's comment: "In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on."
Praise God from whom all blessings flow.
Praise Him, all creatures here below.
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host.
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.
6.11.2008
The Intern's Day of Fun
On my first day of work, Charlene and Dave (my bosses) handed me an Outlook calendar already scheduled with meetings, assignments and projects. The square of June 11th reads "Day of Fun." Today, my friends, was a great day to be an editorial intern.
After a marketing/editorial joint meeting this morning (that Dave and I bailed out of early), the three of us left on a grand adventure to Ridgedale Mall (of Juno fame). We stopped at several bookstores so they could show me how BHP books are marketed in different ways.
Our first stop was the regional chain Northwestern Christian Bookstore. BHP books filled the shelves in competition with brands like Thomas Nelson, Zondervan, WaterBrook, Tyndale, Multnomah, etc. I noticed that as Dave and Charlene moved through the books, analyzing displays and titles and cover art, they were rearranging the shelves. I'm proud to say that the Ridgedale Northwestern fiction section has only Bethany House books facing forward (called face-outs). All other publishers have been turned on their spine!
Next we visited Barnes and Noble (rearranged their shelves, too) and then Target (their displays are already all face-outs, no changes necessary). Finally, we visited a children's bookstore, The Wild Rumpus, in Minneapolis. Its name comes from Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak - a wild rumpus is a crazy jungle party. There are cats with no tails, ferrets, chinchillas, lizards, and chickens in the store! Also, I walked over a plank of glass, only to realize I was looking down into a cage full of pet rats - that did not go over well with me.
All in all, it was a pretty fantastic day. I learned about many things, like sales and marketing tactics, why books sell, and how the spine is actually important to sales numbers. I also learned some upsetting things about this industry, like the fact that the Christian Book Distributors Association strongly discourages ethnic diversity as cover art (read: book covers show white people).
I'm still reading lots of manuscripts. I cranked through one last night from 11:30pm-1:07am, but still have 5 more on my desk.
I drink coffee religiously (Ashley S, my goal is to be drinking it black by the end of the summer).
I try to be funny or insightful at least once in every meeting I attend (it's working thus far).
I enter editorial corrections, which means transcribing an editor's comments from a paper manuscript to the Word document.
I learn all kinds of things like proofreading codes (# means insert space) and official ways to spell and hyphenate words (dishtowel is one word).
I perform blue-line checks (the final stop before a manuscript goes to the printer) and caught a formatting error! I am not a useless intern!
Here is your Editorial Tip of the Day: When dialogue begins a chapter there are no opening double quotations. Example: not "Mom" but Mom!"
After a marketing/editorial joint meeting this morning (that Dave and I bailed out of early), the three of us left on a grand adventure to Ridgedale Mall (of Juno fame). We stopped at several bookstores so they could show me how BHP books are marketed in different ways.
Our first stop was the regional chain Northwestern Christian Bookstore. BHP books filled the shelves in competition with brands like Thomas Nelson, Zondervan, WaterBrook, Tyndale, Multnomah, etc. I noticed that as Dave and Charlene moved through the books, analyzing displays and titles and cover art, they were rearranging the shelves. I'm proud to say that the Ridgedale Northwestern fiction section has only Bethany House books facing forward (called face-outs). All other publishers have been turned on their spine!
Next we visited Barnes and Noble (rearranged their shelves, too) and then Target (their displays are already all face-outs, no changes necessary). Finally, we visited a children's bookstore, The Wild Rumpus, in Minneapolis. Its name comes from Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak - a wild rumpus is a crazy jungle party. There are cats with no tails, ferrets, chinchillas, lizards, and chickens in the store! Also, I walked over a plank of glass, only to realize I was looking down into a cage full of pet rats - that did not go over well with me.
All in all, it was a pretty fantastic day. I learned about many things, like sales and marketing tactics, why books sell, and how the spine is actually important to sales numbers. I also learned some upsetting things about this industry, like the fact that the Christian Book Distributors Association strongly discourages ethnic diversity as cover art (read: book covers show white people).
I'm still reading lots of manuscripts. I cranked through one last night from 11:30pm-1:07am, but still have 5 more on my desk.
I drink coffee religiously (Ashley S, my goal is to be drinking it black by the end of the summer).
I try to be funny or insightful at least once in every meeting I attend (it's working thus far).
I enter editorial corrections, which means transcribing an editor's comments from a paper manuscript to the Word document.
I learn all kinds of things like proofreading codes (# means insert space) and official ways to spell and hyphenate words (dishtowel is one word).
I perform blue-line checks (the final stop before a manuscript goes to the printer) and caught a formatting error! I am not a useless intern!
Here is your Editorial Tip of the Day: When dialogue begins a chapter there are no opening double quotations. Example: not "Mom" but Mom!"
6.10.2008
Early-morning Existentialism
You know how some people get that "runner's high"?
I am definitely NOT one of those people.
I've been running for precisely 2 days (in a row) which required me to get up at 6 am this morning. It was freezing but I ran and the first, oh, 10 steps were absolutely exhilarating. After that it just sucked but I am convinced that this is a discipline that will not kill me - ergo it will make me stronger.
I was challenged this week to evaluate the activities I devote my time to. Most of them are things that come naturally to me: writing, reading, listening to music/singing in the car. I enjoy these things because I don't have to work at them - I'm already good at them.
But I was hard-pressed to find activities that are difficult for me, that I don't enjoy, that don't come naturally. It was a pretty short list: The Spanish language is the only one I could come up with. I chose to minor in Spanish after a bad classroom experience. I wasn't ready to give up on it. While it is challenging and downright frustrating at times, I know that ultimately, I will not regret choosing to work at it.
And now, after a great run in the forest preserve - shinsplints and sideaches included - I'm ready to add running to my list of challenges. It is an activity that does not come naturally, but I will be committed to it and develop discipline.
I think discipline is the stuff adults are made of.
I am definitely NOT one of those people.
I've been running for precisely 2 days (in a row) which required me to get up at 6 am this morning. It was freezing but I ran and the first, oh, 10 steps were absolutely exhilarating. After that it just sucked but I am convinced that this is a discipline that will not kill me - ergo it will make me stronger.
I was challenged this week to evaluate the activities I devote my time to. Most of them are things that come naturally to me: writing, reading, listening to music/singing in the car. I enjoy these things because I don't have to work at them - I'm already good at them.
But I was hard-pressed to find activities that are difficult for me, that I don't enjoy, that don't come naturally. It was a pretty short list: The Spanish language is the only one I could come up with. I chose to minor in Spanish after a bad classroom experience. I wasn't ready to give up on it. While it is challenging and downright frustrating at times, I know that ultimately, I will not regret choosing to work at it.
And now, after a great run in the forest preserve - shinsplints and sideaches included - I'm ready to add running to my list of challenges. It is an activity that does not come naturally, but I will be committed to it and develop discipline.
I think discipline is the stuff adults are made of.
5.27.2008
First Internship, First Day
I am a confident person. If you know me even a little, that trait should be obvious. But something about beginning a new job really makes me nervous! I couldn't fall asleep last night, and this morning I tried on about 4 different outfits before I decided on one. I just really wanted to prove myself today - show them they made the right choice when they hired me. My aim: be professional. Never mind that I had no idea when to show up today. Somewhere that essential little detail was left out, don't ask me how.
So I packed my lunch like a schoolgirl and drove the 2.6 miles from my driveway to theirs. I quickly gathered that I arrived just on time. :) My bosses Charlene and Dave met me in the lobby and said, "Follow us; we'll show you your office."
I HAVE MY OWN OFFICE. I honestly never thought the summer intern would get her own office, but alas, the desk, lamp, bookshelf, filing cabinet, computer and 2 chairs are all mine. It's a little bare right now, so I'm putting together some things to make it more home-y. Pictures of Jess, the fam, the best friends, the roomies; pencil cup, kleenex...I'm gonna deck it out like my desk at school.
After the office intro, I got the tour and met everybody. Interestingly, I know a few employees because we go to (or went) to the same church. They were all very friendly in that intimidating sort of way. They weren't trying to be scary, but they didn't have to try, either. So I met everyone in the editorial, production, and marketing departments. I'm excited that I get to spend some time in each department, getting to know department heads and the ins-and-outs of each job.
As it was explained to me today, I'm going to follow a manuscript through all the stages of getting a book published. It's being edited right now, then it will go to proofreaders, then on to...actually I haven't learned that yet. Check back in a couple weeks! :)
Sweetest Job Perk: getting free(!) books that Bethany publishes. I am so excited - I may just have to catch up on all the Christian-historical-romance-fiction books I've missed out on since the 7th grade, because I'm pretty sure all the good ones were published by BHP.
I jumped right in to reading manuscripts and checking corrections made on proofread galleys. I also learned that I'm taking a proofreading test next Tuesday, and I'm only slightly paranoid. Luckily for me, my job is not hinged on whether or not I pass. Still - does anyone want to take it for me?!
My bosses also took me out to lunch - how cool are they?!
So, in conclusion, (and if you've read thus far, congratulations, you get a gold star) I am excited to have something to fill my days now. It'll be a really good look at the publishing world, yes, but also at office dynamics, something completely foreign to me. [For those that aren't aware, this is my first summer working with adults. I've been a nanny for 3 summers and a swimming lesson instructor for the 3 before that - definitely a far cry from business casual and water cooler discussion.] So I'm learning about Christian book publishing, yes, but also about me in the process. I hope to make some helpful discoveries. I'll keep you posted.
So I packed my lunch like a schoolgirl and drove the 2.6 miles from my driveway to theirs. I quickly gathered that I arrived just on time. :) My bosses Charlene and Dave met me in the lobby and said, "Follow us; we'll show you your office."
I HAVE MY OWN OFFICE. I honestly never thought the summer intern would get her own office, but alas, the desk, lamp, bookshelf, filing cabinet, computer and 2 chairs are all mine. It's a little bare right now, so I'm putting together some things to make it more home-y. Pictures of Jess, the fam, the best friends, the roomies; pencil cup, kleenex...I'm gonna deck it out like my desk at school.
After the office intro, I got the tour and met everybody. Interestingly, I know a few employees because we go to (or went) to the same church. They were all very friendly in that intimidating sort of way. They weren't trying to be scary, but they didn't have to try, either. So I met everyone in the editorial, production, and marketing departments. I'm excited that I get to spend some time in each department, getting to know department heads and the ins-and-outs of each job.
As it was explained to me today, I'm going to follow a manuscript through all the stages of getting a book published. It's being edited right now, then it will go to proofreaders, then on to...actually I haven't learned that yet. Check back in a couple weeks! :)
Sweetest Job Perk: getting free(!) books that Bethany publishes. I am so excited - I may just have to catch up on all the Christian-historical-romance-fiction books I've missed out on since the 7th grade, because I'm pretty sure all the good ones were published by BHP.
I jumped right in to reading manuscripts and checking corrections made on proofread galleys. I also learned that I'm taking a proofreading test next Tuesday, and I'm only slightly paranoid. Luckily for me, my job is not hinged on whether or not I pass. Still - does anyone want to take it for me?!
My bosses also took me out to lunch - how cool are they?!
So, in conclusion, (and if you've read thus far, congratulations, you get a gold star) I am excited to have something to fill my days now. It'll be a really good look at the publishing world, yes, but also at office dynamics, something completely foreign to me. [For those that aren't aware, this is my first summer working with adults. I've been a nanny for 3 summers and a swimming lesson instructor for the 3 before that - definitely a far cry from business casual and water cooler discussion.] So I'm learning about Christian book publishing, yes, but also about me in the process. I hope to make some helpful discoveries. I'll keep you posted.
5.25.2008
Acting Our Age
When I was younger [read: homeschooled], we volunteered at a local nursing home. I helped with Bingo on Tuesday mornings and then with beach ball exercise in the afternoon. It was state-of-the-art, top-of-the-line, fantastic health care. I remember how certain residents came to remember us and look forward to our visits. With other residents, though, we introduced ourselves every week for 3 years. I haven't spent much time in one/around one since then.
Today, I went back. And this time, it was different. Today, it was my grandma in that nursing home.
It felt so familiar. The decor was mauve, beige, and teal. It smelled like old people. The constant beeping signaled CNAs that someone needed help, or had gotten out of their chair, or walked out a door.
Grandma's eyes lit up when we walked in the room. She definitely knew she had company, but she didn't know who we were. Well, she nodded that she knew us, but didn't know our names. My grandma didn't know my name. That's a heavy thing to deal with.
I got to feed her a snack. It was just a brownie and lemonade, but there was something so existential in that moment. When I held the spoon to her mouth, I said, "Open up, Grandma." It shouldn't be that way. That's what you say to a baby. That's what she said to me when I was a baby. I am 20, she is 75 and it didn't feel like anyone was acting their age.
She mimics facial expressions. She can raise her eyebrows, smile back, wink. There were several moments when I saw "the old Grandma." She's thinking so hard - you can tell, she furrows her brow really hard - but all that comes out are mumbled words. She'll start a very coherent thought, like today, "Opa [her grandfather] was a big..." and trail off. I tried to get her back on the trail: "Opa was a big what, Grandma?" And she just searched my face. She lost that thought - it got away from her, down some rabbit trail in her brain, along with all the others.
I can't decide if it's worse to lose someone altogether or to lose all the things that make them someone.
Today, I went back. And this time, it was different. Today, it was my grandma in that nursing home.
It felt so familiar. The decor was mauve, beige, and teal. It smelled like old people. The constant beeping signaled CNAs that someone needed help, or had gotten out of their chair, or walked out a door.
Grandma's eyes lit up when we walked in the room. She definitely knew she had company, but she didn't know who we were. Well, she nodded that she knew us, but didn't know our names. My grandma didn't know my name. That's a heavy thing to deal with.
I got to feed her a snack. It was just a brownie and lemonade, but there was something so existential in that moment. When I held the spoon to her mouth, I said, "Open up, Grandma." It shouldn't be that way. That's what you say to a baby. That's what she said to me when I was a baby. I am 20, she is 75 and it didn't feel like anyone was acting their age.
She mimics facial expressions. She can raise her eyebrows, smile back, wink. There were several moments when I saw "the old Grandma." She's thinking so hard - you can tell, she furrows her brow really hard - but all that comes out are mumbled words. She'll start a very coherent thought, like today, "Opa [her grandfather] was a big..." and trail off. I tried to get her back on the trail: "Opa was a big what, Grandma?" And she just searched my face. She lost that thought - it got away from her, down some rabbit trail in her brain, along with all the others.
I can't decide if it's worse to lose someone altogether or to lose all the things that make them someone.
5.21.2008
Obligatory First Post Introduction
In an effort to continue writing - even when I'm not being forced by professors with syllabi - I'm using this space to think freely. There's a lot on my mind right now and as a Type-A verbal processor, getting it all out there might help me sort out my life. I expect that many of the posts that follow will be of the creative nonfiction (CNF) variety. The options are endless, though, I could turn into a fiction-writing fiend. Guess we'll have to see what happens...
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