What is Writing?

What is writing?

Is it putting a pen to paper? Is it a series of squiggles formed to make coherent letters, then words, then sentences?

Is it telling a story?

And what about editing?

Is it a completely different job? Is it something that someone does to your story to make it better? Is it red ink blots all over your precious work of fiction?

Maybe you think, "Hey, I'm a writer, dang it. I write. Editors have jobs for a reason. They're there to do all my editing for me."

Actually, they're not.

You see, if you want to be an author, published and read, then you have to be both. The author AND the editor.

Editors catch things that are inconsistent or spelled wrong. They might catch a comma in the wrong place, or a missing period. <- no pregnancy puns, please. They know where you need to expand or remove, but they don't know your world like you do.

That, and how annoyingg is it, to, read, this. Like, seriusly? Now, imaGine trying to edit, this. An entire book, like this. Yup. This. Annyong right? I know. You don;t have to tell, me twice.

OK, so maybe the above is a bit overboard. But the fact still remains, editors are professionals. For all intents and purposes, they are perfectionists when it comes to writing. To read something with excessive mistakes would be the emotional equivalent of fingernails on a chalkboard.

My point here is that if you want to be taken seriously you have to know how to edit. Ask anyone that's published, they re-wrote their book a dozen times. Either that or they edited to shreds as they went along. But before they submitted to an agent guess what they did?

THEY WENT BACK AND EDITED.

Writing and editing -- they're like peanut butter and jelly.

Ying and Yang. Lucy and Ethel. Pink and purple. Cake and ice cream.

Get it?

They link arms and skip down the sidewalk belting the chorus of Michelle Branch's song "We Belong Together."

To sum this all up: you have to be an amateur editor to be a successful writer.

Commas are Friends, and they Sometimes Save People from Being Given Away in Radio Contests.

Grammar Lessons from Radio Stations, episode one:

The other day, a local radio station sent out an e-mail advertising their Christmas contest. They said, and I quote, "fill this out and you could win Deena!"

. . . I'm fairly certain I didn't sign up to be a contest prize, so they should really add a comma to that to avoid any further confusion.

Incorrect: "you could win Deena!"
You can't sell/give away people without their permission. Even with their permission it's generally frowned upon in society. 

Correct: "you could win, Deena!"
yay! I can win prizes because my name is Deena and clearly they are talking to me!

Now that we all understand the importance of grammar, let's move on. 

Has anyone but me heard they are coming out with a new Great Gatsby next year?

I do believe they intend to murder every single classic, one re-make at a time. 

I'm losing my will to live.

OK, just kidding. All I'm losing is my TV watching time, which has now been reduced to an hour a week (gotta watch my Once Upon a Time) for no other reason than lack of anything worth my time. 

I also went ice skating last weekend. #random

I haven't been in a long time. Which is sad, because I love ice skating. 

I don't really know why I told you that, I just felt it needed to be said. 

So really I actually wanted to ask if any of you have ever noticed little kids geeking out about Santa and how he's going to come and leave presents for them but when they see him in the mall they run in screaming terror. 

So after skating, we went to the mall (see, I knew the skate story had a purpose). At the mall, Santa was there and all the little kids wanted to go sit on his lap. 

That's probably not entirely true...

by the sounds of it, it was more like the parents had dragged their poor, Santaphobic children to the mall for last minute pictures. 

These children were horrified. And I don't even know why. Santa looked quite jolly and red enough. What is so scary about a fat, happy man that gives you free presents? Two words for you, children, FREE. PRESENTS. 

Apparently something about him is scary though, because this one little boy was screaming so loud, I actually felt bad for him. Before I had time to feel too bad though, the kid up and took off across the mall like Santa was going to murder him. 

I'm not even kidding, this kid ran. He booked it like the gingerbread man. 

Why are kids afraid of Santa? Someone explain this to me, I would google it, but I got some inappropriate ones the other day so I'm currently afraid of google results. 

Also, it's more interactive this way. 

Sorta. 

anyways, goodbye.

Insert Clever Title Here

So I have come to a couple of conclusions this week.

The first one being, philosophy is not for me.
My professor is using all these really huge, rare words all the time.
I'm pretty positive he makes half of them up.
And I'm over here like,

excuse me, do I look like a dictionary to you?

He's all, "Now iterate upon mine ears if you concur with Socrates' statement... blah blah blah."
*cough*exaggeration*cough*
And I'm like, "Well, I don't agree with him because,"
And my professor is like, RAGE.

"You know-nothing twit! Socrates is the god of all knowledge!"
(Again, slight exaggeration.)
But he literally ranted for a good thirty minutes about how my response was wrong and inferior.
I'm like, oh. ok.

I'll just be on my way back to idiotsville, then.

All joking aside, I really hate this class.
And I'm a bona fide Ravenclaw.
So it's kind of ridiculous.



The second conclusion was far less embarrassing to realize.
I can't actually make my vlog yet.
My bedroom lights burnt out so it's dark and you can't see anything.
And since they're not regular lightbulbs, I can't just run to the store and get more.
No. I have fluorescent lights.
If you don't know what a fluorescent light bulb is, they're those really long ones that look like lightsabers.
And if you don't know what a lightsaber is...... well, there's probably no hope for you.
So vlog comes..... well, soon.


The last conclusion I had was that there is an awfully large percentage of people that think Hermione and Draco should have ended up together?
I mean, these people get super emotional about it too.
They're like

And the only reasonable reaction I can come up with is,



Excuse me, but where were you when the books were going on? Or the movies for that matter?
Who remembers this part?

ooooooor this part?

Or how about the part in The Chamber of Secrets when Draco tells the disguised Harry and Ron that he hopes Hermione is the next to DIE?

You thinking he's hot isn't legitimate grounds for him to marry one of the main characters. Sheesh. 

But anyways, the books are over, Ron gets Hermione. So


Mostly I'm joking, so if you're one of those people that wants to believe something happened that didn't really happen, then don't get offended or anything.

But actually I'd really like to understand why you think they belong together. Because literally, it blows my mind. 

I can't even think of one good reason. 

But yeah, that's all the pointless nonsense I have for you today. 

The end. 

How Mealtime Goes Down at Our House

So when shopping for food, my grandma likes to buy in bulk.

Yes, I'm an adult and still live with my grandparents.
I'm a tragically poor college student. So sue me.

Back to my point. My grandma buys in bulk.
But she only buys the bulk stuff that's on uber-sale. So really there's no rhyme or reason to the food we have stored in our basement.

I mean seriously. What on earth can you make with 500 cans of green beans, 50 4-packs of butter, and 20 jars of salsa?
Dinner time at our house is like an extreme episode of Chopped.

But let's look on the bright side though.

I mean maybe if the zombie apocalypse happens then we'll at least be able to survive for years down there.
Beggars can't be choosers.
And neither can people hunkered down in a zombie-proof cellar.


Another thing my grandma believes is that if food is in a can, it cannot expire.
Now, this is probably true for most canned foods to a certain extent.
Like, if it's two or three months past the expiration date, you're probably not gonna contract a life-threatening disease.
Mainly, that's the get-off-the-store-shelf-by-this-date date.
But things don't last forever.

Unless they do.

Case in point.
I was cleaning out the cabinets and I found a jar of pineapple ice cream topping from 1974.
Yes, it was still sealed.
Yes, it still looked identical to the ones in your grocery store today.
Except for, you know, the 40 years of product labeling difference.

I knew there was a reason I avoided pineapple ice cream topping.


In other news, the local radio did not take my advice on learning where to place commas.
Unfortunately, they are still trying to give people away.
Much to my dismay, that person was still me.



If you missed the last episode of Grammar Lessons with the Local Radio Station, here's a recap:
Place a comma before someone's name. Because that's grammatically correct. Otherwise you're saying they can win me. And we all know it's socially unacceptable to offer people as a radio prize.
It actually might be illegal. I'll have to look into that.


So that's all I suppose. I'm off to make a grocery list and pray for sales on items that go great with green beans, butter, and salsa.

A Life of Eternal Cathood

So I'm not sure if it's just me, but I've noticed a rise in panic among teens, ages 12-18, where if they go even ONE second without having a significant other, they feel like they are doomed to a life of eternal cathood.

Oh dear, you're 18 and you're NOT MARRIED YET?!

THIS IS NOT TRUE. Guys, really. 

No really. 

It's not true. You will be O-KAY if you don't have someone to tell you "love" them every moment of every day. 

In fact, you'll be better off. 

Arguments:

1. no one likes dating someone that's already dated everyone else in school.

2. independence is actually a GOOD thing. develop some.

3. there are 6 billion people in the world, just because the ONE person you like doesn't like you, doesn't mean you're going to be alone forever.

4. when you DO become an adult, you're going to have developed a needy personality. People don't like that.

5. people actually hate that. 

So please, for the love of humanity (and for the sake of it), stoooooooooooopppppppppp. 

I'm not even sure where you're getting these ideas from. The only people in movies I've seen married at a young age are Disney princesses. This rule does not apply to them BECAUSE THEY'RE ANIMATED. 

In pretty much every other movie I've ever seen, the people that are getting married or whatever are all in their late 20's/early 30's. 

NO: that's not "old."
YES: this is perfectly acceptable, and statistically speaking, they have a better chance of staying together.

Not saying it's bad to marry at 18. If you've found the love of your life then go for it. All the best to you. 

But don't marry because you feel doomed for whatever reason. 

And stay away from the cats. 

Introvert Problems

Okay. So I've been holed up in my house since Sunday night with no outside contact trying to get a few things accomplished.

ONE: read the gagillion chapters of boring-as-heck homework and write papers and take quizzes.
TWO: finish editing my book.

Neither of these things help my social skills in the slightest.

So tonight, when someone spoke directly to me, I nearly had a panic attack. My brain enacted this ridiculously long scenario in a process similar to that of an ancient computer.

The question was probably the easiest thing on planet earth to figure out, but without human contact for three days, it gets a bit difficult.

person: "How is work?"
my brain: "real human speaking! respond! does not compute! fatal error!"
what came out: "................................................................................great!"
person: "Do you work?"
me: "no."

brain: "I am useless for anything but premeditated responses. I am shamed."

The Pizza Came From WHERE?

So my grandma brings me a box of pizza and my initial reaction, like any reasonable human being, was, "Where did you get this boxed glory?"

Then she ruins the whole moment by responding, "there was a boy selling them on the side of the road!" Read that with this amount of happy faces in mind: :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D



And of course the next question was "...................wut?"
And maybe something like, "you bought a pizza. from a boy you don't know. off the side of the road?"

To which she replies, "Yeah! He was just sitting there with boxes of pizzas and so I rolled down my window and bought one!"
Again with about this many happy faces :D :D :D :D :D :D :D



But then she explained that they were leftovers from the bowling alley's pizza place. So this seems reasonably less crazy and dangerous.

And I checked it out and the story is legit. They really do have someone sell it in town. And apparently selling it on street corners is far more effective than you'd think.
And it tastes pretty dang good so,