Even More About Me

(Like I didn't tell you enough last time)

However, this is partially triggered by my last blog entry, so please bear with me. As you may have guessed from post Ia. (but I didn't actually say outright), I am a perfectionist. As I noted below, this means that I can accept failure, but I will never--NEVER--be happy with it. Ever. I can remain embarrassed by my failures years after they occur. It's rather sad. In addition, I spend far too much time on getting every little thing just right. (For proof, just look at this blog. I spent hours customizing the design where others would be satisfied with minutes--even going so far as to edit the CSS manually--and I'm still not done. That's how crazy I am.)

The point behind this, though, is to explain what happened between CWE #6 and CWE #7. Simply put, due to my perfectionistic bent I spent far too much time on editing CWE #6 (most of it invisibly, before writing, or by erasing and rewriting the phrase I put before). If I recall, I also spent a lot of the time on customizing the blog design.... The result: I ended up writing one assignment in the time of two, and having to "make up" CWE #7 in class the next day (on paper, hence the delay in its appearance on the blog). This is especially problematic in light of the fact that WE's are supposed, by design, to be short, unconstrained, unedited outpourings of writing, not longish, carefully composed, and heavily edited pieces. Yet another thing I could be working on to improve, I suppose.

I'll try. I'll really try. I'll force myself to work over more reasonable (i.e. shorter) time periods. But I have a sinking feeling it'll be as hard as chopping down the (forest (of (parentheses)))...

P.S. With all those parentheses, I should just write my exercises directly in LISP.... Hey! That sounds like an intriguing idea for a WE...

C-WE #6. Missing Chair

From The Pocket Muse: A character arrives at work to find her chair missing. What happened to it?

Ms. Grace entered her cubicle, looked at her coworkers as usual, booted up her computer as usual, straightened her hair as usual, and sat down as usual, all without looking. This was unfortunate, as her chair was no longer there, and she ended up on the floor, rather a harder landing than expected, which caused her to emit a loud whoop. After gathering up the few remaining scattered fragments of her shattered dignity, she stood up, called out to the entire room, "Where Is My Chair?!" (literally in title case), and promptly fell out of the center of attention as everyone speculated on the chair's mysterious vanishment.
"Maybe it fell into a miniature black hole which closed up immediately after it and transported it to another dimension," guessed Mr. Roberts.
"No way, Occam's razor cuts that to shreds. What obviously happened is that it was eaten by beavers," rejoined Mrs. Lane.
"Are you crazy? That chair wasn't even made of wood! How the heck would beavers have eaten a metal and plastic chair--and where would they go afterwards?" Mr. Roberts said heatedly, angry at the dismissal of his theory.
"It still makes a lot more sense than your stupid black hole," Mrs. Lane responded, and would have started a fight but Mr. Johnson got in the way.
"There's no need for fighting--you're both wrong," he advised them. "Obviously, the chair grew legs and ran away."
"That's just nonsense," said Mrs. Lane and Mr. Roberts in unison. Surprised by their agreement, they stopped, stunned, and never reentered the discussion, too amazed to speak further.
Mrs. Samuel had something to say though. "Chairs don't grow legs, you fool!" she yelled at Mr. Johnson. "Obviously someone here took it!"
Awkward silence. Everyone looked at everyone else (except Mrs. Lane and Mr. Roberts, who were still completely out of it). Then Mr. Johnson spoke up. "Rubbish! I never heard anything so stupid in my entire life! The chair grew legs, I know it, I can see it--well, in my mind I can. Any other explanation is bunkum!"
And with that the discussion began again, louder and more heated than ever (except, of course, for Mrs. Lane and Mr. Roberts, who were still staring at each other). Everyone was shouting, violence was threatening, the room was disintegrating into chaos...then Mr. Johnson (looking for support for his legs theory) asked Johnny, who inhabited the cubicle in the corner, what he thought. "You haven't said anything yet. What's your idea?"
"I don't have one," the boy replied into the general lull. "Although I think your idea is the best."
"You see, you see??!" shouted Mr. Johnson, and the fighting started right back up again.
Meanwhile, Johnny remained sitting quietly in his cubicle. He was the only one who hadn't stood up at the beginning of the dispute--and with good reason: he was sitting on Ms. Grace's chair.

Point of Order

At random times the official blog posts (Roman numerals) may be interspersed with writing assignments done out of class (WE #x) or in class (C-WE #x), as well as random and/or organizational meta stuff (no number, like this post). Depending on my inclinations, I may put all the WE's I write on this blog or only some; haven't decided yet.

II. Writing Goals

In my previous two posts, I didn't explicitly describe my writing style; instead, you got to see it. At its worst, it is (as you may have noticed) long-winded, somewhat unfocused and jumpy as I return to make the same point again (and parenthesis-heavy (notice the meta-comment (here))), occasionally dry, and in places even depressing. That is my "serious" style (caricatured to its worst side, of course), and I apologize for any injury caused your minds by its use in posts I and Ia. I also have a frivolous style, where I don't care about making a serious case and instead just make up as much random nonsense as I can (this works better for fiction), with lots of snarky phrases and, occasionally, self-commentary (like the parenthesis comment above). You will notice that a few of these phrases crept into my "serious" essay in the first two posts.

What I believe I need for improvement, is--wait for it--a balance (gah! that word again) between the two, so that the serious writing is neither dry nor depressing, while any non-serious writing is more sensible and less random, yet at the same time keep both caricatured styles available for any rare occasion that requires either dullness or randomosity (yes, I know that's not a word, but that's the point). Particular target: figurative language--I tend to be very literal, and so dislike overly flowery descriptions, but as a result I tend to neglect descriptive sections altogether (not good for fiction, and an invitation for dryness in nonfiction). I will need, in future writing, to--balance--its use and avoidance. (Seriously, "balance": stop following me already! I'm trying to work here.) I'll also need to work on controlling my exploding population of parentheses. My tendency to running on and on, whether to dull oblivion or a pinnacle of absurdity, can (and should, if I believe all those writer's manuals) be kept in check only by editing.

The other category from the sheet ("variety" being already covered somewhat through devices and tones, "thoughtfulness" and "mechanics" not posing me any problems), i.e. "volume," contains one thing I may need to work on: number of pages per week, a.k.a. actually sitting down to write and writing. I have a very busy schedule, with almost too much going on, and on top of that I tend to procrastinate. I'll just need to find the time, smack myself a couple of times, and do it, I suppose.

So those are my goals for improvement in writing, and they all seem doable (except (maybe (dealing (with (that (malignant (infestation (of (parentheses...))))))))) I'll see you next time, hopefully improving already.

Ia. About Me

Speaking of unconventionality, one other unconventional thing I did was to split my welcome message into two posts. I tend to ramble a lot, and the welcome message grew too long (in my own opinion: I'm a harsh critic of my mistakes even while I continue making them) to add yet another slew of paragraphs describing my weird and wonderful self. So I put it into a separate post. Genius...or too lazy to write a concise, on-topic, well-edited welcome message in a single post? None can say (at least not without me contradicting them, whichever point of view they choose).

So: about me! I am, as stated before, a high school senior in a Creative Writing semester elective English course. I am a German citizen and a legal permanent U.S. resident. I'm not going to bother describing my physical appearance, as--oh, heck with it, here goes: tall, scrawny, red hair, scraggly beard-in-progress, glasses, quasi-athletic but not really an athlete, et cetera. Are you happy now? (That question went to my inner critic, not to you readers.)

Anyway, back on topic: I enjoy being creative--in past school courses and sometimes at home I have drawn, played (on piano and organ) and composed music, programmed, done electrical circuit design, and, of course, written. Music especially has insidiously been taking over my mind and thoughts this past year, but I lack the talent and/or self-discipline to be anything but an amateur. Nevertheless, I find myself humming semi-random tunes (or snippets from real works) much more often than would befit a sane human being. Horrifyingly, I seem to be doing more and more creative work in my other favored disciplines as well--partly due to my choice of electives, and partly I think that all my creative activity has rendered me too insane to stop.

In all these works, old and new, I am my own harshest critic, believe others overrate my abilities, and often think I, as well, have too high an opinion of myself. I am, however, also critical of my harsh self-criticism; as a result, I've come to accept errors, mistakes, and weaknesses in my work as natural, but that doesn't mean I'll forgive myself for making them.

I also pride myself on my skills of analysis and my balanced viewpoint, hints of which may be seen above and in the previous post, but am the first to admit that I often fail at both. I easily get bogged down in details and lose my way when analyzing, while a truly balanced viewpoint requires more information (and better analysis) than are possible with a human brain. In consequence, I tend to give up on analysis too quickly, and to keep my brain from overloading and keep at least some stability I hold on to partialities I feel (in more idealistic moments) I should be questioning.

As you may have guessed, I think deeply and philosophize a lot, but I hate philosophy. This is because philosophy is the absolute worst field for my loved-hated analysis: there are no right answers (in fact, it wouldn't surprise me if every answer is wrong) and the details and complexities and conundrums are horrendous. Yet I want everything analyzed, every question answered, every paradox resolved--so I think more about philosophy than I care to. At the same time, I try to limit my excursions into this quicksand of insoluble problems because I know (or more likely assume--without any experimental evidence[!!]) that agonizing over the answers to answerless questions will drive me insane even faster than will my creativity. Still, I can't stop my insatiable desire to know and understand more--more, perhaps than is good for me.

But I've rambled (again) long enough, so to round out my self-portrait, here are a few more character odds and ends that I've picked up along the way:

• I love language (that's one reason I write); English, German, French, other languages, translation, linguistics, puns (too much for my own good), wordplay, crosswords cryptic and otherwise, writing systems...
• I also love mathematics (which has much more conclusive answers and proofs than does philosophy), especially when solving mathematical puzzlers--the more complicated yet elegant, the better. I enjoy as well the natural sciences, physics and chemistry especially, and am also drawn to the problem-solving aspect of engineering.
• I am shy and withdrawn, and usually don't speak unless I am spoken to or in the company of old friends. When I do speak, however, I usually spend a long time assembling my phrases, begin somewhat awkwardly, and then run on always a little longer than necessary, wanting to get that last bit of clarification in.
• I love order and competency, yet am ashamed to admit my desk at home is a mess and I procrastinate far too much. That I nevertheless continue to do so well in school should amaze me, but I've lazily come to take it for granted.
• I love dolphins, owls (in fact, just about all birds), and, most especially, penguins. These last I have managed to include in several school projects so far and always look for a chance to drag them in; meanwhile I have doodled them, in various forms, on countless sheets of paper, in several notebooks, and on black-, white-, and SmartBoards around the school and elsewhere.

I've taken up your time long enough now, but before I go I have one final, philosophical(!) note to make. I dislike hypocrisy and self-contradiction, and yet the more I reflect the more of these disagreeable vices I see in myself. There are even times when I intentionally contradict everything I and everyone around me says (done more in jest than in seriousness, but still shocking when thought over soberly). So how can I detest hypocrisy in others when I myself cannot maintain a consistent position? The answer, of course, is that I, like everyone else, am--inconsistent. How charming. (See what philosophizing gets you into?) And on that happy note, I'll sign off.

I. Welcome

Welcome. If you are reading this, you fall into one of two categories: group A is people from my Creative Writing class, who know I'm writing this (as I know they're writing their own); group B is everybody else, who will probably only reach this site by chance, on a whim. You are all equally welcome, and though group A people have the advantage of (a little) familiarity with the themes contained herein, the experience will hopefully be more novel and rewarding for group B visitors.

As you may have guessed from the title and from the identity of group A, this blog contains many diverse, often random thoughts on Creative Writing, a semester high school course I'm taking at the time of this writing. I may as well begin now, with some ruminations on transience (such a delicious word!)

Obviously, this blog will not continue on forever; I will have to stop posting, at the latest, when I die (yet another example of transience: my finite existence). But to fall back to less weighty considerations, I have a sad suspicion that this blog will "end," i.e. cease to be updated, at the end of Creative Writing in June. Depending on the quality and qualities of what is posted here and hereafter, this may or may not be a loss and a pity. Equally regrettable will be those of you from group B who pass by, realize you've clicked the wrong link and/or don't much care for the sophomoric ramblings of a high school senior, and never return again. There will probably be quite a few of you; or (even worse) next to none: that would be awful, because I would prefer this blog to get as wide a readership as possible, and most importantly, as wide a regular readership as possible. But there again we run into the transience of the medium of blogging: at some point, it will end, and no matter how many regular readers I have at that point, many will lose heart at the end of our common journey and never return again. (My heartfelt gratitude and amazement to anyone who actually comes back and rereads favorite posts after the blog quits, or I quit it; unless, of course, no such person exists or will exist, in which case sorry, wrong number.)

But enough of this deprecating and potentially depressing talk of transient phenomena in the form of blog posts. I'd like to conclude with one of my favorite things: unconventionality. I enjoy it, most of the time, except when it turns out to be too unconventional even for my tastes. You see some of it here in this entry: a welcome message that is long, involved, long, ironic, and too long, and makes the horrible mistake of dividing its potential readers into groups without even asking their opinion (for which I apologize unreserved ly--but how many of you have continued reading up to here?)! I like to think that gives me a refreshing touch of unconventionality; but I also think, though I don't like to, that it completely destroys any chance of good, fun-to-read writing. (You may notice that I tend to accept completely contrasting views of a topic; now is this unconventional as well, or just indecisive? I can't tell...) Unconventionality is two-edged, and often three-edged just to mess with your mind and break out of the confining boxes of convention--that's what I love about it; however, it is easy to do something unconventionally and fail miserably at it by virtue of your unconventional approach. The balance is difficult to find. I probably have yet to find it. But it will be one of the things I search for, on this journey that remains in a single definable yet difficult-if-not-impossible-to-pinpoint location on some server somewhere, also known as this blog. (Reflect for an instant on the intriguing fact that you have, in all probability, no idea where this blog post is stored, and yet you will always be able to find it by typing in a URL into your browser--yet another mind-expanding experiment with an unconventional perspective.) My hope is that the unconventionality I include will make this blog fun, or at least interesting, to read (and to keep whatever readers I may have the supreme fortune to attract coming back for more until I am cut short by transience).

In any case, whether you read the long-winded paragraphs above or not, whether you read this blog or not, whether you read this sentence or not: Welcome. The journey promises to be most interesting.