No one believes me. Not even my family; they think I’m trying to be cool or something. They tell me to stop doing it, stop trying to impress people, just stop it.
But I can’t.
And I finally decided to do some research into it.
I think it started when I was in grade school? I remember we were walking through some impressive executive building with lots of glass windows and my family was together and I started doing some faux British accent, copying what the EPL (English Premier League) commentators said during soccer games. It was entertaining to my grandparents; apparently, it was hilarious to see me doing this somewhat British accent.
But then as I grew older, I realized something bizarre;
I started to do it unconsciously. Or, maybe I did it before or I hadn’t interacted with people with noticeable accents before.
My creative writing TA told us the best way to revise pieces is to rewrite them from scratch.
That idea immediately scared me. I mean, how far can I go? And especially with my poetry, I don’t want to lose the essence of a piece by rewriting it. I mean, wouldn’t it compromise the poem?
But yesterday, I decided to give it a try. Right after an idea banged on my door, I held on to it long enough to write three different poems from the same idea. There were similar concepts in all three, but to my pleasant surprise, each went deeper and brought fresh new perspectives to the idea. Rather than draining an idea, I was finding more treasures inside it the more I pushed my mind and my creativity.
And now, the final poem I wrote is a lovely conglomeration of three poems and I believe the best presentation of it. Now I feel like I’ve given it the best of my ability. And more importantly, now I’m doing this with all my poems.
I highly recommend this to all writers! Don’t be scared of ruining an idea; trust me, you’ll be able to know if you are, but if anything, ideas are treasure troves waiting to be discovered, so don’t be afraid to dig deeper and challenge yourself~
I’ll post my poems soon, once I refine them a bit more. Please anticipate them 🙂
Happy writing everyone!
I just finished devoured Maximum Ride Forever today. I don’t even remember the last time I finished a book the day I started it, but there you have it. And thing is, it’s not even like it was an amazing mind-blowing book. There were definitely parts in the book when I knew the James Patterson was just pulling out every trick in the book like “Oh no, the Flock isn’t dead” and the classy “I’m pregnant” plot twist.
Regardless, I feel a bit better and accomplished. But still…how do I start this discussion?-
Thing is, I’ve been avoiding novels and Korean dramas. I get sucked into plots and waaay too invested into characters whenever I start stories. It gets to the point that I become moody and start questioning everything in real life in comparison to the book.
I mean, technically speaking, national anthems are just music. And usually, the melodies aren’t that complicated either, though occasionally they can have the random high note (like in the American national anthem). And yet, they can bring tears and stir so much emotion in a person.
I never really reacted to the American national anthem, but the Korean and Canadian ones have a special place in my heart, and it’s only been recently. Whenever I hear the Canadian anthem start up, it makes me feel happy inside (wow that’s a really professional way of explaining it, Ashley…). But when I hear the Korean anthem, I almost always start to cry. Continue reading
“I’m just gonna read for thirty minutes, then I’ll fill out the form for the Chinese visa,” I told my dad as I pulled my copy of The Kite Runner closer to me and folded my legs, getting comfortable for a full immersion into the novel. Then I set my alarm to go off in thirty minutes and opened my book.
When the alarm went off, my eyes never left the page as I turned it off. I was in too deep, but I didn’t want to leave. I faintly heard my dad tease me about what I said but I drowned him out with the moody music pounding in my ears and images flooding my mind: the war-torn Afghanistan, the orphans, Amir, Sohrab, Soraya. In fact, I actually cried partway through the novel. My tears frustrated me, not because I was worried about being a softie, but because now the words were blurry and I couldn’t read on. I stopped momentarily to only wipe my tears and muster enough resolve to finish the book and push on, not just for myself but for the sake of the story. I had to know what happened. I had to hear all of it.
Okay I get it. Racism is rampant. Race is race. Hoo-ha. But I guess I didn’t know how much it would bother me until it came into my home court, which is Korea. And boy oh boy, I get it folks. I’m mad. (*I’m also tired which further is accentuating my anger so prepare for a mad mad rant folks.)
Here’s what got this all started.
*tries to control emotions…ha ha nvm*
THERE’S GOING TO BE AN INCREDIBLES TWO GUISE.
AN INCREDIBLES TWO! Continue reading