I'm going to go cheesy highschool student on you, and so I apologize in advance. Sometimes I just can't help it, man. Oh, and don't mind that Jensen aka my husband, he's just there for your viewing pleasure. (You're welcome.)
So, I think I can sufficiently say that senior year has brought the greatest amount of new experiences for me. It's brought a new attitude about me. I remember being a freshman, or before then, and thinking that the seniors seemed so carefree. I wanted to be them, slide on their lives like a new dress and recreate myself. Now, I know I sound silly since that was only a few years ago. But I think I can strongly stand that between then and now, I've changed a lot. Heck, between last year and this year I can say that I've grown into myself a bit.
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm still the most awkward kid you'll meet. I stumble over myself: physically, mentally, verbally. My friends and I are so odd and have so many inside jokes and quirks that it's hard for me to interact normally in public. But you take that fact and twist it around, and I realize that I've changed for the better. This year I've learned just how hard I can work, just how much I could care less about some things, just how happy I can be when I'm around the people I care about. I have the ability to break into a (tuneless) song and (flailing) dance, and not be embarrassed of myself (too much). I can tell someone my opinion on something and be sure and proud of what I say, and, following that, I can reasonably and calmly argue my point. I've accepted that I dress and act like an eighty-year-old woman the majority of the time, and that I'm probably never going to grow any taller than I am.
It's weird, thoughtless things that show me that I've accepted myself, at least more than I did beforehand. And I'm glad for that. With the new year here it got me thinking to the fact that I'm graduating soon. And that's amazing, right? I've survived highschool! Well, as much as one teenage girl can survive highschool.
Anyways, it brought me to the thought on my writing. I haven't had the time or will to write anything most of this school year. I've been on break though, and had some spare hours on my hands, and naturally I went through everything I've written.
And promptly cried.
I've been aimlessly writing since freshman year, and as I've grown as a person, I noticed that so has my writing. I was cliche and horrid those few years ago, let me tell you. I was writing about a love triangle between faeries. Now, the automatic story that just popped into your head? That's what I wrote. Throw in some insane grammar and punctutation and you've got it down. I can't tell you how well I write now, but I think I can say that I've made a pretty swift improvement. Between practice and the countless hours that I spent researching the publishing industry, the writing process, I was able to get something that's actually readable typed out. My writing has aged right along with me. My characters are real, my events are relevant, and I recognize that my decisions are important.
I like how much you can learn in a few years--heck, weeks, days, hours, even--and how it influences your writing. I remember when I was set on the idea of being published before I graduated. I loved those teen author stories. And here I am, just a few months away from being a graduate, and I still haven't finished anything concrete. Who was I kidding when I thought I was going to be published? I can't even imagine that now. I understand now why authors are generally older when they're published. They have the experience and complexity to write something that's worth reading.
And man, guys, that's awesome to me. I'm exicited to get to that point in my life. I'm getting there, and hopefully I'll be there soon, but if I'm going to write a story that means something, like I want, I'm willing to take the time.
What do you think? Do you think you can accomplish those writing goals this year, or are you still in the process like me? Ooh, and did you have a good New Year?