A frisbee in the air. Blank. Blank. Blank. Me running towards the opposite side of the field because the other team scored. It turns out that during that blank space my head collided with someone's knee. I kept playing frisbee for another hour. I think the adrenaline helped me shrug it off. No big. No big. It wasn't really until I tried going to bed that I noticed the throbbing. The dull pain, and then the fear. The fear of maybe having a concussion. I'd heard you could fall asleep and never wake up. You just drift oft like Wendy to Neverland, and the next moment when friends and family come to wake you up you're gone. This fear kept me awake. I sat in my bed for hours, my mind grasping on ideas like a man hanging on a cliff. I slip, and the ideas fall and fall and fall.
So now that you have a foundation of how I feel at the moment, I will proceed with my post. Enjoy!
Reading:
I finished Entwined! I was pleasantly surprised. I liked how she was able to keep the many characters personalities apart considering how many sisters their were. I think I would have struggled creating a unique voice for each character.
Right now I am reading Goliath, the last book in Scott Westerfeld's Leviathan trilogy. I love his books. He describes the world in such a fresh way, that it's like waking up in early in the morning while camping and watching everything come alive.
I also read an article from the 2012 Children's Writer's & Illustrator's Market about voice. I really liked it. Something that really stuck out to me was the author talking about how character's need character. She also used a lot of examples from actual books which got me excited about reading some new things.
Writing:
I tried writing about a character from others' perspectives with the character absent from the text. Here we go:
“Did you hear what happened to Lane?”
“Who?
“You know Lane. That kid who always sat by himself. The one with the black sharpie drawings all over his clothes.”
“Oh, that kid.”
“Well, did you hear what happened to him?”
“Nope. Did he off himself? Did he get a girl pregnant? Did he runaway with Mrs. Waters?”
“No. No. No. He did something much worse than that.”
They are sitting at the lunch table, a mixture of boys and girls with new clothes from American Eagle, Gap, Buckle, and a bunch of other mall friendly stores. Quiet! Their food sits untouched on plastic gray trays. Their eyes focused on Mickey, Mr. Popular of sorts, as he tells the story of Lane.
“It all started the first day of summer break when he stole 500 dollars from his father’s wallet. You see, Lane had been wanting to get away for awhile. He couldn’t stand living in that house with a drunk father and a mother who slept around. At least, that’s what my mom told me. Her and Lane’s mom are close friends. Have been forever. So, anyway, Lane wanted to get out. He stole 500 dollars, rode his bike to the bus station and hopped on the first bus to nowhere.”
“Wait.” A boy down the tables away spoke up. Everyone’s faces turned to him. “I saw Lane all the time this summer. We worked together mowing lawns with Celeste Mosgrove’s older brother.”
“You mowed lawns with him?”
“Was he crazy?”
“Did he tell you about his parents?”
Mickey stands up. He puts his hands to his mouth and yells. “STOP!”
“Well, did he?” The girl notices everyone else is now looking towards Mickey and goes quiet. Her face turns a pinkish color that cannot be hid by her recently discovered makeup.
“We will get to the lawn mowing business later. Okay. OKAY! Now, where was I?” He stops. Waits for someone to point out the obvious.
A girl, she’s wearing way too much lipstick and clothes a size too small, says in a shaky voice, “He had just gotten on a bus to no where.”
Mickey doesn’t even look at her. He coughs into his hand. Rubs hand against his buddy’s shirt, and gets started on the story.
“So, Lane was sitting on this bus, right, with five hundred dollars and a backpack stuffed with some spare clothes and whatever food would fit. You all remember how he was always drawing, even at recess, and so he pulled out a sharpie and began doodling on the back of the seat in front of him.
My crazy life:
I think you got enough of it from the beginning. Like I said before. I'm tired, and my head hurts.
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