I was required to be at school for a journalism workshop yesterday and today. (On a Saturday and Sunday. For 12 hours and then another 7. I know. Take up all your angst with Howe.) I did not like being required to spend my gas money for the next three months to SIT AT SCHOOL but I actually enjoyed myself believe it or not.
Our keynote speaker and breakout instructor was Bobby Hawthorne (whose blog can be found here) who not only was a Texas native complete with accent, but hilarious too. I learned a lot of writing in general, not just for journalism.
The most important of which: be smart. don't be pretentious.
He showed us some passages from essay submissions that he had judges. They were the most pretentious passages of writing that I've ever seen. There was one that took three paragraphs to say GREED SUCKS. Literally.
All of what he said made me really think about how I write. I pride myself on my writing, that's no secret. I want to be acknowledged for it too. I'm not a bigot (most of the time) but I want praise. I don't want to end up on some PowerPoint for being bad writing. And, after this workshop, that's something I fear.
I think my writing is not as obviously bad as most of the stuff that we were shown but I go to a different place, a different mindset, when I write so my writing could suck and I wouldn't know. Which brought me to the conclusion that even though I have major fears of rejection I need to have a lot more people read and critique my writing.
In fact, I wrote a column during the workshop kind of about that which I plan on posting after I get revision notes from Bobby.
Until then dear readers,
S-A-M-I
_
I'm starting a new habit. At the end of every blog that I write I am going to include either a short story or an excerpt of one of my short stories.
Today's excerpt comes from a story I wrote a few years ago and have hence rewritten at least twice. I plan on beginning a third rewrite (because I'm still unhappy with it) after this year's NaNoWriMo.
So, without further of my rambling. A short bit from Demon Awakening.
She was getting weaker. The demons truly were feeding from the pain. They wanted her weak. Pain can cloud thoughts. Thinking was crucial at a time like this. Especially for Lilli. Agreeing blindly could lead to death, or worse. She tried to forget the pain, work through it.
“You are strong halfling. But you won’t be for long.” The servants of evil descended upon Lilli. Cutting her open with claws and teeth. Bleeding here humanity away.
She screams. So. Much. Pain.
What are these things? The ones who attack her in dreams. Tell her lies and cause her pain. The evil beings who are trying to take her away from all she loves and all she knows.
“Off!” The one who seems to be in charge of the others calls. The monsters come off her, but leave her torn and bleeding. “Child,” he says to her. “Whether you wish to accept who you are is beyond my control. But whether you like it or not you belong to us. Part human you may be but you are equally as much demedhe, demon. Your humanity cannot live on.”
She summoned the energy to speak. “I don’t need humanity. I just need to be human.”
“Impertinent child!” She cringes at his tone. “There is no such thing.”
Then let me die, she thinks. I would rather be dead then one of evil.
“We will have you. Death is not an option. You will be changed, the method however shall be your choice. Either painfully,” He tightened his mental grip of her pain, which made it much worse, “or by choice.”
“I ask you again. Will you give in to us? Become demedhe and live painlessly forever?”
