Vagina.
Vagina. Say it with me: va-gi-na.
(If you were brought to this page via a search for the word "vagina", sorry. This probably isn't what you were looking for.)
I saw the Vagina Monolgues for the first time my first year here. They were incredible. I was so awed by the women standing on that stage. I thought that I could never do that.
I saw the Vagina Monologues again last year. They were still incredible. A bit different; I didn't like some of the monologues as much when performed by different people. But even so - wow.
This year, one of my friends mentioned that she was thinking of auditioning. Do it with me, she said. I'll audition if you audition, I said. We auditioned. We both got roles as boa girls - very minor roles; boa girls do the introductions and the one-liners (but honestly? I have pretty much the best one-liner ever - and my intro is pretty damn good too).
Vagina Monologue rehearsals are unconventional. For the first week or so, we didn't talk about the monologues. We talked about vaginas, about sex, about abuse, funny stories, painful stories, sweet stories, anything. We talked a lot. We laughed a lot. We laughed even more the next week, when roles were revealed to the cast at large and we ran through them for the first time.
We laughed tonight, a lot, when we were sitting on the stage watching as one "unique, beautiful, fabulous" performer read her monologue. Sometimes people cried. Sometimes the entire audience cringed.
The best part? They listened. We listened to each other in rehearsals, when we shared stories, when we practiced the script. They listened there in that small, packed auditorium - they listened. I don't know how much they took in, but that that many people came - that that much money is going to the local Rape Crisis Center - if it hadn't been worth it already, this would have made it so.
Friday, February 22, 2008
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Screenwriting
I like screenwriting because it's so visual.
I haven't done much of it, of course; three (short) scripts for class last semester (four if you count the revision) plus some bits and pieces that I wrote for the hell of it. I signed up for the class thinking that it would be an exercise in dialogue (not my strong point). Turns out screenwriting is all about the description, not the dialogue; plays are about the dialogue. The class made a lot more sense to me because of that - description I can do. Visuals I can do. Dialogue... dialogue I can sometimes do. It's a challenge: making the dialogue sound natural, not giving the characters monologues, making sure the characters stay in character, showing rather than telling... like I said, it's a challenge. Challenges are nice, of course, but, well, so's writing something semi-decent without expending a lot of effort (thus saving the effort for the revision).
Anyway, screenwriting was a good class for me. I run on visuals; I think in pictures. It was occasionally difficult to come up with an appropriate topic - I tried a couple of things that were definitely too abstract - but eventually it all worked out. They weren't the best screenplays of the class, perhaps, but they were decent.
Now there's a scene in my head. I can see it, but writing it's harder. It's not the dialogue - there is none - it's partly the actual description and partly the follow-up. If I knew what was supposed to come next, it might help.... imagine a movie in which there is an opening scene, then a lot of T.V. snow, then a closing scene. That's what I've got, and something tells me that that's Not Enough. It's not just that, though; the opening scene itself isn't clear enough. What I'm seeing isn't translating into what I'm writing - it needs some serious work.
Oh, how I enjoy three-day weekends when I can put off the work actually assigned for class :)
I haven't done much of it, of course; three (short) scripts for class last semester (four if you count the revision) plus some bits and pieces that I wrote for the hell of it. I signed up for the class thinking that it would be an exercise in dialogue (not my strong point). Turns out screenwriting is all about the description, not the dialogue; plays are about the dialogue. The class made a lot more sense to me because of that - description I can do. Visuals I can do. Dialogue... dialogue I can sometimes do. It's a challenge: making the dialogue sound natural, not giving the characters monologues, making sure the characters stay in character, showing rather than telling... like I said, it's a challenge. Challenges are nice, of course, but, well, so's writing something semi-decent without expending a lot of effort (thus saving the effort for the revision).
Anyway, screenwriting was a good class for me. I run on visuals; I think in pictures. It was occasionally difficult to come up with an appropriate topic - I tried a couple of things that were definitely too abstract - but eventually it all worked out. They weren't the best screenplays of the class, perhaps, but they were decent.
Now there's a scene in my head. I can see it, but writing it's harder. It's not the dialogue - there is none - it's partly the actual description and partly the follow-up. If I knew what was supposed to come next, it might help.... imagine a movie in which there is an opening scene, then a lot of T.V. snow, then a closing scene. That's what I've got, and something tells me that that's Not Enough. It's not just that, though; the opening scene itself isn't clear enough. What I'm seeing isn't translating into what I'm writing - it needs some serious work.
Oh, how I enjoy three-day weekends when I can put off the work actually assigned for class :)
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Writing, pt. 2
My professor told us that if we wrote down the one thing (or the three things) that we least wanted to write a personal essay about - not things that we thought weren't worth writing about, things that we weren't comfortable writing about - those topics would be the best essays we ever wrote - or the best essays we never wrote.
She said this shortly after assigning our first essay for the semester. I laughed to myself, thinking nope, not happening. The topic I've picked is presenting some organizational difficulties, but it's not too emotionally taxing (perhaps it should be? It's something about which I've given much thought but haven't written much. I can laugh about it now, and - somewhat important to me, yeh? - wouldn't mind the possibility of sharing it with the class).
So I didn't think too much about that. Well, actually, I did - I felt a bit guilty for passing up on the challenge - but I didn't feel guilty enough to write about things I really, really didn't want to write about.
I went to the library yesterday to get more pre-internship reading (YA books, yum). It was pouring outside - it rained all day; didn't let up until dinner - but for some reason that made the library trip better: it was my choice to walk through the rain to get books. Besides, books are totally worth a good soaking or two.
Anyway. Back to the point. At the library I thought I'd draft my essay. It was kind of rainy-day busy, but I found an empty table and sat down to write.
The draft's pretty bad. That's partly because, as I said earlier, it has organizational difficulties; it's partly because I didn't have the outline I'd written earlier; it's partly because it's just a draft. I wrote until I got stuck and then flipped to a new page.
When I try to write about difficult things - when I try to think about difficult things - I usually write or think in circles for a while before getting to my point. I think my problem has been that, in thinking about this particular topic, I usually go straight for the heart (aaaanndd... my blows rebound and I get punched in the gut. Or the face). This time I bypassed the armor and took a different tack, went for some somewhat less vital organs. To carry the metaphor a bit further, I still didn't reach the heart, but I think I did some significant damage.
I can't turn it in, of course. I might shred it. Or burn it. But - that I got somewhere - that I even tried - well, that's something, isn't it?
She said this shortly after assigning our first essay for the semester. I laughed to myself, thinking nope, not happening. The topic I've picked is presenting some organizational difficulties, but it's not too emotionally taxing (perhaps it should be? It's something about which I've given much thought but haven't written much. I can laugh about it now, and - somewhat important to me, yeh? - wouldn't mind the possibility of sharing it with the class).
So I didn't think too much about that. Well, actually, I did - I felt a bit guilty for passing up on the challenge - but I didn't feel guilty enough to write about things I really, really didn't want to write about.
I went to the library yesterday to get more pre-internship reading (YA books, yum). It was pouring outside - it rained all day; didn't let up until dinner - but for some reason that made the library trip better: it was my choice to walk through the rain to get books. Besides, books are totally worth a good soaking or two.
Anyway. Back to the point. At the library I thought I'd draft my essay. It was kind of rainy-day busy, but I found an empty table and sat down to write.
The draft's pretty bad. That's partly because, as I said earlier, it has organizational difficulties; it's partly because I didn't have the outline I'd written earlier; it's partly because it's just a draft. I wrote until I got stuck and then flipped to a new page.
When I try to write about difficult things - when I try to think about difficult things - I usually write or think in circles for a while before getting to my point. I think my problem has been that, in thinking about this particular topic, I usually go straight for the heart (aaaanndd... my blows rebound and I get punched in the gut. Or the face). This time I bypassed the armor and took a different tack, went for some somewhat less vital organs. To carry the metaphor a bit further, I still didn't reach the heart, but I think I did some significant damage.
I can't turn it in, of course. I might shred it. Or burn it. But - that I got somewhere - that I even tried - well, that's something, isn't it?
The Hiring Process
A thought on Creative Writing.
The department at my college is in the process of hiring a new professor; my favourite professor's term is up (it's a three-year position, I think; they like new blood). As an enthusiastic CW student, I'm involved in the process - now that they're down to three potential professors, a group of students (myself included) sits in on mock classes. They will pay us, I think, which is a nice (if strange) concept. Most of the CW department, along with some of the English department, sits in the back of the class while the candidate lectures/critiques/whatever. We're also permitted to offer feedback, although I'm honestly not sure how welcome it would be.
I've been to one of the three (the other two are next week) and find the process quite fascinating. I don't want to mention specifics, as the process isn't over, but it was a nice chance to meet somebody who might be one of my professors next year.
There's something else I want to say on the topic of Creative Writing, but it'll have to wait.
The department at my college is in the process of hiring a new professor; my favourite professor's term is up (it's a three-year position, I think; they like new blood). As an enthusiastic CW student, I'm involved in the process - now that they're down to three potential professors, a group of students (myself included) sits in on mock classes. They will pay us, I think, which is a nice (if strange) concept. Most of the CW department, along with some of the English department, sits in the back of the class while the candidate lectures/critiques/whatever. We're also permitted to offer feedback, although I'm honestly not sure how welcome it would be.
I've been to one of the three (the other two are next week) and find the process quite fascinating. I don't want to mention specifics, as the process isn't over, but it was a nice chance to meet somebody who might be one of my professors next year.
There's something else I want to say on the topic of Creative Writing, but it'll have to wait.
Saturday, February 9, 2008
Overcommitment
I'm overcommitted again.
This isn't anything new, and it certainly doesn't come as a surprise, but it's a little bit ridiculous. I just plotted out the next two weeks of my life and, hmm, I'm not sure I'll have time to do my reading. Between class and P.E., Res Staff, rehearsals for my dance group and the Vagina Monologues, the mock classes I'm participating in to help pick the new Creative Writing professor, Multi-Faith stuff... well. I have my work cut out for me, don't I?
Don't get me wrong. It'll get done - "I'll sleep when I'm dead" is a popular saying around here. My overcommittment is also All My Fault; I knew how busy I already was when I signed up for a lot of this (I have, at least, dropped - at least temporarily - archery). I'm not complaining, actually, because I like being busy. We'll see.
That I went to the trouble of making a schedule in Excel, printing it out, and filling it out twice (which I'll do again for the weeks following this one... when I figure out what's happening then) is in and of itself midly worrisome. Clearly my college is rubbing off on me (we tend to be a little bit anal-retentive, we do). I showed said schedules to a friend, who took one glance and started laughing at me. Oh well... you never know, they might help me know what's going on more than a day in advance.
...right?
This isn't anything new, and it certainly doesn't come as a surprise, but it's a little bit ridiculous. I just plotted out the next two weeks of my life and, hmm, I'm not sure I'll have time to do my reading. Between class and P.E., Res Staff, rehearsals for my dance group and the Vagina Monologues, the mock classes I'm participating in to help pick the new Creative Writing professor, Multi-Faith stuff... well. I have my work cut out for me, don't I?
Don't get me wrong. It'll get done - "I'll sleep when I'm dead" is a popular saying around here. My overcommittment is also All My Fault; I knew how busy I already was when I signed up for a lot of this (I have, at least, dropped - at least temporarily - archery). I'm not complaining, actually, because I like being busy. We'll see.
That I went to the trouble of making a schedule in Excel, printing it out, and filling it out twice (which I'll do again for the weeks following this one... when I figure out what's happening then) is in and of itself midly worrisome. Clearly my college is rubbing off on me (we tend to be a little bit anal-retentive, we do). I showed said schedules to a friend, who took one glance and started laughing at me. Oh well... you never know, they might help me know what's going on more than a day in advance.
...right?
Sunday, February 3, 2008
New leaves
I'm a Resident Assistant at my college; it's my second year as an RA. More or less what I do is act as a resource to the other students on my hall, plan and execute programs, run hall meetings, that sort of thing. I don't get paid, but it's not a difficult job and I like people.
I'm applying to be a House President next year. The HP position is arguably more exclusive than the RA position; each hall has one HP and multiple RAs (my hall has six RAs). Far fewer people apply to be HP, though, and it's also a different job - HPs sit on committees and attend meetings and in general are involved more indirectly on hall. I'm applying nonetheless, as I don't think I can handle another year as an RA (I love it, I really do, but it takes a lot out of you) but I still want to be involved. A change would be good.
I went through the second step of the application process today. The first step is the paperwork, which was due last month. Today it was Carousel, which is a series of group activites. It's a chance for the evaluators to see how we interact in groups and how we compose ourselves.
Our group was exclusively HP candidates - seven of us. Of the seven, four are planning to go abroad next year; their applications will be deferred a year. The other three (myself included) are applying for the 08-09 academic year.
It went well, I think. I don't pretend to be the most qualified candidate, or the person who'd make the best HP, but as of right now I'd rate my chances as "sufficiently decent as to not inspire terror in me". Whatever that means.
Surprisingly, current Res Staff members played a huge role in evaluation. I'm a bit disappointed to not be able to be on the other side of the fence (I would be on the evaluation side this year did I not want to be a House President...), because I think it must be so interesting to watch the interactions without worrying that we'd say that looked terrible, but hopefully I'll just be on Res Staff next year and participate then.
I am glad, at least, that I did not sound incredibly moronic. I hope. We'll have to wait and see.
I'm applying to be a House President next year. The HP position is arguably more exclusive than the RA position; each hall has one HP and multiple RAs (my hall has six RAs). Far fewer people apply to be HP, though, and it's also a different job - HPs sit on committees and attend meetings and in general are involved more indirectly on hall. I'm applying nonetheless, as I don't think I can handle another year as an RA (I love it, I really do, but it takes a lot out of you) but I still want to be involved. A change would be good.
I went through the second step of the application process today. The first step is the paperwork, which was due last month. Today it was Carousel, which is a series of group activites. It's a chance for the evaluators to see how we interact in groups and how we compose ourselves.
Our group was exclusively HP candidates - seven of us. Of the seven, four are planning to go abroad next year; their applications will be deferred a year. The other three (myself included) are applying for the 08-09 academic year.
It went well, I think. I don't pretend to be the most qualified candidate, or the person who'd make the best HP, but as of right now I'd rate my chances as "sufficiently decent as to not inspire terror in me". Whatever that means.
Surprisingly, current Res Staff members played a huge role in evaluation. I'm a bit disappointed to not be able to be on the other side of the fence (I would be on the evaluation side this year did I not want to be a House President...), because I think it must be so interesting to watch the interactions without worrying that we'd say that looked terrible, but hopefully I'll just be on Res Staff next year and participate then.
I am glad, at least, that I did not sound incredibly moronic. I hope. We'll have to wait and see.
My Professor Made Me Do It
My Creative Writing professor asked us to write a Match.com profile (not to actually go on Match.com; just to read and critique and discuss), so I guess I have an introduction after all.
I read everything in sight, I knit increasingly complex scarves (but only scarves, as I am too Type A about knitting to try something with more screw-up potential), I watch bad movies for the sole purpose of critiquing the dialogue. When I am bored I dye my hair strange colours, plot out my next tattoo, or make halfhearted attempts to get to the roof of my building. My family occasionally pretends disapproval, but on the whole appears disappointed that I did not turn out wilder.
I have goals, some of which may actually be attainable. I aspire to a flat in Scotland (or France, or Canada, or – hmm, most any place outside the States); I aspire to be a writer, to hike the Appalachian Trail, to be a truck driver, to wear leather pants to my cousin’s wedding (unlikely, as I am a bridesmaid, but it may yet happen). I aspire to write a paper about Jane Eyre and Crime and Punishment (working title: Getting what they deserve: Crime and Punishment in Jane Eyre. I am not looking for a Mr. Rochester. If you have a crazy wife locked up in the attic – if you have a wife at all – stay home. On the other hand, any number of sins can be forgiven for a modicum of literary understanding, so…).
My dream job involves lots of books and a reasonably quiet office. I fantasize about living in a cabin in the middle of nowhere and never seeing a human being again, but then I realize that, as I occasionally enjoy humanity, doing so might not be practical.
I like self-selected challenges. I think I like them better when I fail, so that I have incentive to try again, but success is nice too. I find people with passions to be inspiring, if not always likeable.
*Edited to put in the underlines that I forgot last time...
I read everything in sight, I knit increasingly complex scarves (but only scarves, as I am too Type A about knitting to try something with more screw-up potential), I watch bad movies for the sole purpose of critiquing the dialogue. When I am bored I dye my hair strange colours, plot out my next tattoo, or make halfhearted attempts to get to the roof of my building. My family occasionally pretends disapproval, but on the whole appears disappointed that I did not turn out wilder.
I have goals, some of which may actually be attainable. I aspire to a flat in Scotland (or France, or Canada, or – hmm, most any place outside the States); I aspire to be a writer, to hike the Appalachian Trail, to be a truck driver, to wear leather pants to my cousin’s wedding (unlikely, as I am a bridesmaid, but it may yet happen). I aspire to write a paper about Jane Eyre and Crime and Punishment (working title: Getting what they deserve: Crime and Punishment in Jane Eyre. I am not looking for a Mr. Rochester. If you have a crazy wife locked up in the attic – if you have a wife at all – stay home. On the other hand, any number of sins can be forgiven for a modicum of literary understanding, so…).
My dream job involves lots of books and a reasonably quiet office. I fantasize about living in a cabin in the middle of nowhere and never seeing a human being again, but then I realize that, as I occasionally enjoy humanity, doing so might not be practical.
I like self-selected challenges. I think I like them better when I fail, so that I have incentive to try again, but success is nice too. I find people with passions to be inspiring, if not always likeable.
*Edited to put in the underlines that I forgot last time...
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