So recently I discovered a new author named Meagan Spooner...
She seemed to be a very intriguing writer indeed. I did some searching around her website and I found out that she was doing a giveaway contest for her new book Skylark. It seemed like an awesome book, so naturally, I entered.
I really do hope I win something. *Hopeful face*
You should check out her website. It's awesome stuff....
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Friday, June 29, 2012
I've been checking my e-mail far too often...
Wow...It's been a while, hasn't it?
I decided to return to my old haunt of Blogger because 1. I haven't been on in forever and 2. I have barely anything to do.
The past few months have been absolutely insane. Somewhere between finishing school (we won't spend too much time talking about that) and finishing my novel (EXCELSIOR!!!), I haven't been able to see straight.
Finishing a 50,862 word novel was like having a baby...through my nostril. I.E. it was a long, painful process, but ultimately a rewarding one. The whole ordeal was a mixture of fun, frustration, outright rage, sadness, joy and many, many, many, many re-writes. Approximately seven of them, I think...
But that was the easy part. The real challenge starts when the book is done and edited and you have to begin sending..........QUERY LETTERS.
DUN DUN DUNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!
During my two year writing process, I read upwards to 50 bazillion articles on how to write an "outstanding query letter."
"Oh, that shouldn't be too hard," I thought.
I was dead wrong.
Encapsulating 50,862 words of narrative into a short paragraph was almost harder than writing the book itself. I re-drafted my query more times than I re-drafted my book. (Yes, I know, that is to be expected. But still, I went back to the good ol' drawing board many, many times.)
So two weeks ago, I sent off three queries to three literary management agencies, and I have only heard back from one so far. Unfortunately it was a rejection, but hey, it happens to the best of us.
With regard to the other two responses, I have developed a sever case of "check-my-email-every-four-seconds-syndrome."
Yeah. I've got it bad.
This is by far the most nerve wracking thing I have ever had to do. I feel like I am suspended in some kind of limbo, and things won't go back to normal again until I get a response.
Being a highly impatient person, I have had to learn very quickly that good things come to those who wait.
And boy, is this worth the wait.
[my.anxiety.goes.here]
I decided to return to my old haunt of Blogger because 1. I haven't been on in forever and 2. I have barely anything to do.
The past few months have been absolutely insane. Somewhere between finishing school (we won't spend too much time talking about that) and finishing my novel (EXCELSIOR!!!), I haven't been able to see straight.
Finishing a 50,862 word novel was like having a baby...through my nostril. I.E. it was a long, painful process, but ultimately a rewarding one. The whole ordeal was a mixture of fun, frustration, outright rage, sadness, joy and many, many, many, many re-writes. Approximately seven of them, I think...
But that was the easy part. The real challenge starts when the book is done and edited and you have to begin sending..........QUERY LETTERS.
DUN DUN DUNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!
During my two year writing process, I read upwards to 50 bazillion articles on how to write an "outstanding query letter."
"Oh, that shouldn't be too hard," I thought.
I was dead wrong.
Encapsulating 50,862 words of narrative into a short paragraph was almost harder than writing the book itself. I re-drafted my query more times than I re-drafted my book. (Yes, I know, that is to be expected. But still, I went back to the good ol' drawing board many, many times.)
So two weeks ago, I sent off three queries to three literary management agencies, and I have only heard back from one so far. Unfortunately it was a rejection, but hey, it happens to the best of us.
With regard to the other two responses, I have developed a sever case of "check-my-email-every-four-seconds-syndrome."
Yeah. I've got it bad.
This is by far the most nerve wracking thing I have ever had to do. I feel like I am suspended in some kind of limbo, and things won't go back to normal again until I get a response.
Being a highly impatient person, I have had to learn very quickly that good things come to those who wait.
And boy, is this worth the wait.
[my.anxiety.goes.here]
Saturday, February 18, 2012
To my fellow nerds out there, wherever you may be...
The world is full of stereotypes. Look around and you will find them without much help. A popular one that everyone knows about would be the stereotype of "Nerd."
Wikipedia (the unreliable supplier of information that I inexplicably rush to like an antelope to a piranha infested water hole.) describes nerds as thus:
"Nerd is a derogatory slang term for an intellectual but socially-impaired, perhaps obsessive person who spends inordinate amounts of time on unpopular, obscure, or highly technical pursuits, or relating to topics of fiction or fantasy, to the exclusion of more mainstream activities."
Alright, first of all let's examine that:
Intellectual. I'm okay with this.
Socially impaired? Some may fit into that category, but the truth is, NOT ALL NERDS ARE SOCIALLY AWKWARD. Nerds are often actually wonderful and nice people.
To quote John Green---“Saying 'I notice you're a nerd' is like saying, 'Hey, I notice that you'd rather be intelligent than be stupid, that you'd rather be thoughtful than be vapid, that you believe that there are things that matter more than the arrest record of Lindsay Lohan."
Now I am in no way insinuating that non-nerds are stupid or vapid, but what is wrong with valuing intelligence? What exactly is wrong with being enthusiastic about things that are actually cool? So what if I spend more time reading than your average teenager? So what if I'm mildly obsessed with classical literature, or Star Wars or the impossibility of the Necker Cube?
I believe that nerds exist to keep the ardor for things that actually matter alive. There are many reasons that being a nerd is okay. These are a few.
1. We have an excuse for having a huge vocabulary: One thing I hear often is "You use big words!" "I don't understand a word you're saying!" Oh. I'm sorry for having a vocabulary bigger than seven words. I find it darkly humorous that I am laughed at for not juxtaposing the word "swag" to every idiom that comes out of my mouth. Nerds take in a lot of information, and speaking from experience, we take pride and enjoyment in sharing it.
2. Nerds get awesome jobs: What separates the men (or women) from the boys (or girls) in the work force? INTELLIGENCE. If you were looking to hire a new employee, who would you be more likely to choose? Someone who understands quantum physics or someone who knows the lyrics to every Lil' Wayne song ever written?
3. Nerds are understanding: One of the side effects of being a nerd is an overall sense of comfort with who you are. As most of my nerd friends are, (and as i aspire to be), nerds are not very judgmental. If you're comfortable with yourself, you will most likely be comfortable with others.
4. Nerds are interesting people if you get to know them: Nerds know a lot of stuff. It's not that difficult to hold a conversation with a nerd once the right topic is found. Most nerds are just dying for a stimulating discussion anyhow.
So the next time you see a nerd, don't lump us into a false stereotype. Because when the chips are down, we're people too. And to all my nerdfighters (see link here http://youtu.be/FyQi79aYfxU), geeks, dorks and just plain awesome people out there, don't change for anyone, because you are all great and I am proud to be one of you...
[nerd pride. goes. here]
Wikipedia (the unreliable supplier of information that I inexplicably rush to like an antelope to a piranha infested water hole.) describes nerds as thus:
"Nerd is a derogatory slang term for an intellectual but socially-impaired, perhaps obsessive person who spends inordinate amounts of time on unpopular, obscure, or highly technical pursuits, or relating to topics of fiction or fantasy, to the exclusion of more mainstream activities."
Alright, first of all let's examine that:
Intellectual. I'm okay with this.
Socially impaired? Some may fit into that category, but the truth is, NOT ALL NERDS ARE SOCIALLY AWKWARD. Nerds are often actually wonderful and nice people.
To quote John Green---“Saying 'I notice you're a nerd' is like saying, 'Hey, I notice that you'd rather be intelligent than be stupid, that you'd rather be thoughtful than be vapid, that you believe that there are things that matter more than the arrest record of Lindsay Lohan."
Now I am in no way insinuating that non-nerds are stupid or vapid, but what is wrong with valuing intelligence? What exactly is wrong with being enthusiastic about things that are actually cool? So what if I spend more time reading than your average teenager? So what if I'm mildly obsessed with classical literature, or Star Wars or the impossibility of the Necker Cube?
I believe that nerds exist to keep the ardor for things that actually matter alive. There are many reasons that being a nerd is okay. These are a few.
1. We have an excuse for having a huge vocabulary: One thing I hear often is "You use big words!" "I don't understand a word you're saying!" Oh. I'm sorry for having a vocabulary bigger than seven words. I find it darkly humorous that I am laughed at for not juxtaposing the word "swag" to every idiom that comes out of my mouth. Nerds take in a lot of information, and speaking from experience, we take pride and enjoyment in sharing it.
2. Nerds get awesome jobs: What separates the men (or women) from the boys (or girls) in the work force? INTELLIGENCE. If you were looking to hire a new employee, who would you be more likely to choose? Someone who understands quantum physics or someone who knows the lyrics to every Lil' Wayne song ever written?
3. Nerds are understanding: One of the side effects of being a nerd is an overall sense of comfort with who you are. As most of my nerd friends are, (and as i aspire to be), nerds are not very judgmental. If you're comfortable with yourself, you will most likely be comfortable with others.
4. Nerds are interesting people if you get to know them: Nerds know a lot of stuff. It's not that difficult to hold a conversation with a nerd once the right topic is found. Most nerds are just dying for a stimulating discussion anyhow.
So the next time you see a nerd, don't lump us into a false stereotype. Because when the chips are down, we're people too. And to all my nerdfighters (see link here http://youtu.be/FyQi79aYfxU), geeks, dorks and just plain awesome people out there, don't change for anyone, because you are all great and I am proud to be one of you...
[nerd pride. goes. here]
Sunday, January 15, 2012
I used to have a social life, but then i took an arrow to the knee...
Up until November 11, 2011, I thought i stayed pretty current. Ahead of the game even. I almost verged on taking pride in knowing about things before anyone else. And then came Skyrim. I had heard of it once or twice, and all I knew about it was that it was that one Youtube game ads that I consistently "Skipped after 5 seconds" every time it popped up. Life was normal and quite frankly it made sense. And then came Skyrim.
Now don't get me wrong, I like videogames. Love 'em. They're my thing. But this...this got out of hand.
Act. I.
It all started at church one afternoon. I walked in as usual expecting to have stimulating conversation about normal things. And then came Skyrim. A particular youth (who will remain nameless) rushed to me from the moment I entered and accosted me with facts, plans, names, and things he was doing in this magical game called Skyrim. I was basically like "cool story bro" and moved on.
Act II.
After service I moved in my quest for civilized dialogue, but was stymied on my way, by two nameless girls. GIRLS. Two of whom I KNOW beyond a shadow don't even like videogames. But there they were, having what seemed like an in-depth discussion about guess what? SKYRIM. Had this trend spread to everyone? I could not escape. The hype alone made me want to reject the whole thing altogether. Shocked and appalled, I ran from them, hands over ears in the style of The Christian from Pilgrim's Progress.
Act III.
The following days were inundated with Skyrim references and "Arrow-to-the-knee" jokes (i couldn't quite understand why everyone and their mom were getting shot in the knees). I managed to avoid it to the best of my mortal ability. And then came the straw that broke the Skyrim camel's back.
I was in the library at school, working on important things. And then came Skyrim (this time in the form of another Nameless Student). The following dialogue is true. It really happened as thus:
Student: Do you play Skyrim???????? (Think of this in the most excited voice possible.)
Me: No. (Think of this in the most dry, uninterested tone ever.)
Student: Oh. Then what do you do for entertainment? (the "I'm so sorry for you" tone in his voice was unmistakable)
THAT WAS IT. JUST BECAUSE I DON'T PLAY STUPID SKYRIM DOESN'T MEAN I DON'T KNOW HOW TO HAVE FUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
That one question changed my quest. Instead of rejecting Skyrim, I decided to play it. And play it, I did. I'm sure you're waiting for a big ending in which I hated it and sledgehammered the disc into ground screaming taunts at every Skyrim fan in the world. Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I liked it. Against my better will, I liked it. Thank you Skyrim for carving me a social life in the rock of my existence Now, I can die a cool cat. I couldn't have done it without you.
[my.social life. goes. here]
Now don't get me wrong, I like videogames. Love 'em. They're my thing. But this...this got out of hand.
Act. I.
It all started at church one afternoon. I walked in as usual expecting to have stimulating conversation about normal things. And then came Skyrim. A particular youth (who will remain nameless) rushed to me from the moment I entered and accosted me with facts, plans, names, and things he was doing in this magical game called Skyrim. I was basically like "cool story bro" and moved on.
Act II.
After service I moved in my quest for civilized dialogue, but was stymied on my way, by two nameless girls. GIRLS. Two of whom I KNOW beyond a shadow don't even like videogames. But there they were, having what seemed like an in-depth discussion about guess what? SKYRIM. Had this trend spread to everyone? I could not escape. The hype alone made me want to reject the whole thing altogether. Shocked and appalled, I ran from them, hands over ears in the style of The Christian from Pilgrim's Progress.
Act III.
The following days were inundated with Skyrim references and "Arrow-to-the-knee" jokes (i couldn't quite understand why everyone and their mom were getting shot in the knees). I managed to avoid it to the best of my mortal ability. And then came the straw that broke the Skyrim camel's back.
I was in the library at school, working on important things. And then came Skyrim (this time in the form of another Nameless Student). The following dialogue is true. It really happened as thus:
Student: Do you play Skyrim???????? (Think of this in the most excited voice possible.)
Me: No. (Think of this in the most dry, uninterested tone ever.)
Student: Oh. Then what do you do for entertainment? (the "I'm so sorry for you" tone in his voice was unmistakable)
THAT WAS IT. JUST BECAUSE I DON'T PLAY STUPID SKYRIM DOESN'T MEAN I DON'T KNOW HOW TO HAVE FUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
That one question changed my quest. Instead of rejecting Skyrim, I decided to play it. And play it, I did. I'm sure you're waiting for a big ending in which I hated it and sledgehammered the disc into ground screaming taunts at every Skyrim fan in the world. Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I liked it. Against my better will, I liked it. Thank you Skyrim for carving me a social life in the rock of my existence Now, I can die a cool cat. I couldn't have done it without you.
[my.social life. goes. here]
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
[TBH I don't really care...]
Okay before I begin, THIS BLOG POST IS NOT MEANT TO STEP ON ANY TOES. It is a cry for justice.
I begin.
If you've signed your life away to the addictive medium known as Facebook you most likely have seen the recent influx of copypastas like "Like my status to see how I really feel about you"or "TBH (for the layman, To Be Honest)" or "If like this status if you've ever had a crush on me, comment if you think I'm cute, inbox me if you think i look like a giraffe, copy this as your status if you want to join the legions of Facebook users cluttering the newsfeeds of civilized people."
To begin with, why do I have to like your status to know how you truly feel? Can't we like have a heartfelt tete-a-tete over coffee or something? Guess not. It makes soooooo much more sense to post my feelings for all my 4722 friends to see.
Also, what exactly are you expecting to hear from the person whose status you liked? Obviously something positive. But what if... WHAT IF somebody flipped the script and said something negative?
>Billy-Bob Smith: TBH
>Ooh I want so desperately to know how Billy-Bob feels about me! Maybe he will publicly express the depths of his affections! "Like"
>Billy-Bob Smith posted on your wall
"TBH I don't like you. That is all."
*FAILFAILFAILFAILFAILFAIL*
That my dear friends is what is called a wasted "like", and is one less friend you will have. But hey, now all 4722 of your closest friends know about the upcoming feud you will soon be having.
Isn't social networking just splendid?
But hey, what right have I to complain? The TBH movement makes so much more sense than the social customs that have lasted for centuries and have built lasting friendships, relationships and alliances. TBH i'm just a stick-in-the-mud who needs to get with the program. My bad, guys. My bad.
[ragequit.goes.here.]
I begin.
If you've signed your life away to the addictive medium known as Facebook you most likely have seen the recent influx of copypastas like "Like my status to see how I really feel about you"or "TBH (for the layman, To Be Honest)" or "If like this status if you've ever had a crush on me, comment if you think I'm cute, inbox me if you think i look like a giraffe, copy this as your status if you want to join the legions of Facebook users cluttering the newsfeeds of civilized people."
To begin with, why do I have to like your status to know how you truly feel? Can't we like have a heartfelt tete-a-tete over coffee or something? Guess not. It makes soooooo much more sense to post my feelings for all my 4722 friends to see.
Also, what exactly are you expecting to hear from the person whose status you liked? Obviously something positive. But what if... WHAT IF somebody flipped the script and said something negative?
>Billy-Bob Smith: TBH
>Ooh I want so desperately to know how Billy-Bob feels about me! Maybe he will publicly express the depths of his affections! "Like"
>Billy-Bob Smith posted on your wall
"TBH I don't like you. That is all."
*FAILFAILFAILFAILFAILFAIL*
That my dear friends is what is called a wasted "like", and is one less friend you will have. But hey, now all 4722 of your closest friends know about the upcoming feud you will soon be having.
Isn't social networking just splendid?
But hey, what right have I to complain? The TBH movement makes so much more sense than the social customs that have lasted for centuries and have built lasting friendships, relationships and alliances. TBH i'm just a stick-in-the-mud who needs to get with the program. My bad, guys. My bad.
[ragequit.goes.here.]
Saturday, December 10, 2011
[name.goes.here]
I was introduced to the "bloggosphere" by a very intelligent sibling. Let me tell you, I was scared. I wrote that first sentence that you see up there about 54 times. "What do I write about?" was the pervading question. What do I name my blog? What if nobody likes it?
I was promptly told that I was being silly, and there's no such thing as a bad blog. My intelligent sibling instructed me to write about my feelings. Feelings. Okay, good. I have those. Well i feel that i should have been born a dinosaur. I feel that ninjas are so much cooler than pirates. I also feel that awkward moments can be made entirely more awkward by randomly shouting "OH MY WORD THERE'S A CATERPILLAR ON YOUR FACE!!!"
But those are not really good things to write about.
I started to study other bloggers. (My intelligent sibling's blog was among them). I took profuse notes.
1. Bloggers do that random "Paragraph/Line Skippy Thing" that you've probably noticed me doing above. I have no idea what this signifies, but I guess it is an expression of individuality, or intelligence.
2. Bloggers can weave together a long list of random disjointed thoughts into a glossy and oftentimes humorously eloquent entry of random disjointed thoughts. This part takes real talent and panache.
3. Bloggers have awesome names that instantly give you a vivid mental picture of what it is you are going to read. I on the other hand chose the title: [name.goes.here].
To the philosophical thinker, one might think the name signifies the ability of the reader to find themselves in whatever it is that I write. Which is a whole lot better than my original reason for selecting a title such as that. As an emerging blogger with the occasional, egregious plague of Writer's Block (and we all know what a nefarious demon that can be) I thought it witty to draw from my lack of ideas for my premier entry. Yeah. Great idea right?
So with my Grab-Bag of Huge Vocabulary Words, and my Sword of Prose I set off on this journey of blogging, and what an adventure this is shaping up to be.
As a final thought, most bloggers leave you with a catchphrase or a final thought, but alas I have not one. Except this, can you find yourself in the same boat as me? At a loss for words, or with an apparent surplus of idioms? I think I just might have both.
Love, Alexander
[your name. goes. here.]
I was promptly told that I was being silly, and there's no such thing as a bad blog. My intelligent sibling instructed me to write about my feelings. Feelings. Okay, good. I have those. Well i feel that i should have been born a dinosaur. I feel that ninjas are so much cooler than pirates. I also feel that awkward moments can be made entirely more awkward by randomly shouting "OH MY WORD THERE'S A CATERPILLAR ON YOUR FACE!!!"
But those are not really good things to write about.
I started to study other bloggers. (My intelligent sibling's blog was among them). I took profuse notes.
1. Bloggers do that random "Paragraph/Line Skippy Thing" that you've probably noticed me doing above. I have no idea what this signifies, but I guess it is an expression of individuality, or intelligence.
2. Bloggers can weave together a long list of random disjointed thoughts into a glossy and oftentimes humorously eloquent entry of random disjointed thoughts. This part takes real talent and panache.
3. Bloggers have awesome names that instantly give you a vivid mental picture of what it is you are going to read. I on the other hand chose the title: [name.goes.here].
To the philosophical thinker, one might think the name signifies the ability of the reader to find themselves in whatever it is that I write. Which is a whole lot better than my original reason for selecting a title such as that. As an emerging blogger with the occasional, egregious plague of Writer's Block (and we all know what a nefarious demon that can be) I thought it witty to draw from my lack of ideas for my premier entry. Yeah. Great idea right?
So with my Grab-Bag of Huge Vocabulary Words, and my Sword of Prose I set off on this journey of blogging, and what an adventure this is shaping up to be.
As a final thought, most bloggers leave you with a catchphrase or a final thought, but alas I have not one. Except this, can you find yourself in the same boat as me? At a loss for words, or with an apparent surplus of idioms? I think I just might have both.
Love, Alexander
[your name. goes. here.]
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