Any mandatory presentation I attend that gets me laughing is impressive. For most of my classes, attending lectures is recommended, but not required. Something about the word, "required," puts a bad taste in my mouth; I go, because I must. Tayari Jones may have changed this for me. Although I did not personally connect to the book she was reading, I could tell that she did. These characters caused her to tear up during her introduction; they are real to her. I admire Jones for her passion.
Typically, when I think of writers, I think of people who do something I could never do. Writing for a living does not sound fun or remotely feasible to me. After reading Jo Ann Beard's interview, I discovered that even some writers hate writing and have no helpful tips to share. But now, when I think of writers, Tayari Jones comes to mind. She is someone who acknowledges writing is a struggle, but genuinely enjoys it and invests her life in it. Joyfully, she answered the audience's questions about her book, personal life and writing techniques. Many of the things she said will change the way I write. She had helpful comments such as reading the dialogue out-loud or writing more words than necessary and then cutting back.
I greatly appreciated her honesty and openness about her life and profession. She was an excellent reader and vividly engaged the text. I am very thankful I had the opportunity to hear her read and share her humble wisdom about writing.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
IMDB is a cop-out
"Dwayne, from Little Miss Sunshine."
"No way...you've definitely lost it."
"No, I haven't! Look," I say, jumping up from the couch and pausing the movie, "imagine him without the long blond hair and cowboy hat. It's totally the same kid."
"Ehhh it could be...but who cares," my sister says, obviously knowing who cares, I care!
"Jess. I would bet my life that it is the same actor. Seriously." I respond without cracking a smile, because this is no smiling matter.
"Ok, ok, I see it now, you're right! You're always right!" she declared while rolling her eyes and grabbing the remote to continue the movie.
Ahh. Now I can relax. I grab some food from the kitchen and join my sister on the couch to continue watching. There is no pressure now, only a movie to enjoy.
"Alison, doesn't that girl look familiar?" my mom asks, not knowing she is leading me down a dangerous road. I don't respond right away...why say yes if I can't remember where she is from? No. I won't admit defeat that easily. I take a few moments...then bam.
"Yep, because she played Elizabeth Bennet in the A&E version of Pride and Prejudice."
"You're right! Thank god you inherited your father's memory." I couldn't agree more.
When my dad and I watch movies together there is an unspoken competition to identify and place more characters than the other. It is so unspoken that my dad doesn't even know it's a competition. He is too easy-going to care about dumb competitions or fleeting feelings of gratification. Sometimes I wish I inherited that from him instead.
"No way...you've definitely lost it."
"No, I haven't! Look," I say, jumping up from the couch and pausing the movie, "imagine him without the long blond hair and cowboy hat. It's totally the same kid."
"Ehhh it could be...but who cares," my sister says, obviously knowing who cares, I care!
"Jess. I would bet my life that it is the same actor. Seriously." I respond without cracking a smile, because this is no smiling matter.
"Ok, ok, I see it now, you're right! You're always right!" she declared while rolling her eyes and grabbing the remote to continue the movie.
Ahh. Now I can relax. I grab some food from the kitchen and join my sister on the couch to continue watching. There is no pressure now, only a movie to enjoy.
"Alison, doesn't that girl look familiar?" my mom asks, not knowing she is leading me down a dangerous road. I don't respond right away...why say yes if I can't remember where she is from? No. I won't admit defeat that easily. I take a few moments...then bam.
"Yep, because she played Elizabeth Bennet in the A&E version of Pride and Prejudice."
"You're right! Thank god you inherited your father's memory." I couldn't agree more.
When my dad and I watch movies together there is an unspoken competition to identify and place more characters than the other. It is so unspoken that my dad doesn't even know it's a competition. He is too easy-going to care about dumb competitions or fleeting feelings of gratification. Sometimes I wish I inherited that from him instead.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
the lion shrine hold-up.
The Lion Shrine is a beloved statue that marks the pride and power of the Nittany Lions. Thousands of people who set foot on Penn State's campus take their picture at this infamous statue. But this night was unlike any other.
"Come on, don't just stand there...climb on its back or do something interesting!" a Penn State student yelled to her friend from her perspective behind the camera.
"Are you sure I can even if I don't go here?" her friend asked as she shot a concerned look at the intimidating stone lion next to her.
"Haha, what...are you afraid it's going to bite you? Just do it."
"If, you're sure..."
Before she could attempt to climb up, a voice shouted, "Get down on the ground!" She did. Instantly. As she looked up from her new position on the damp October ground, she saw her friend's face fill with terror. A second man was pointing a handgun at her as she too met the ground. The two guys were African American, college-aged, wearing dark sweatshirts and demanded all their money.
"But, but, I don't have any money on me," the first girl croaked through sobs of fear.
"Me neither" said her friend, equally as terrified of their fates. Without waiting for more excuses, the man without the gun began to search both the girls' pockets. They were telling the truth. No money. Looks were exchanged between both parties; the girls read each others' faces for ideas and the guys nodded in agreement of their next unspoken plan. They stole the girls' jewelry, cellphones and camera. Then, they fled.
http://live.psu.edu/story/55578
"Come on, don't just stand there...climb on its back or do something interesting!" a Penn State student yelled to her friend from her perspective behind the camera.
"Are you sure I can even if I don't go here?" her friend asked as she shot a concerned look at the intimidating stone lion next to her.
"Haha, what...are you afraid it's going to bite you? Just do it."
"If, you're sure..."
Before she could attempt to climb up, a voice shouted, "Get down on the ground!" She did. Instantly. As she looked up from her new position on the damp October ground, she saw her friend's face fill with terror. A second man was pointing a handgun at her as she too met the ground. The two guys were African American, college-aged, wearing dark sweatshirts and demanded all their money.
"But, but, I don't have any money on me," the first girl croaked through sobs of fear.
"Me neither" said her friend, equally as terrified of their fates. Without waiting for more excuses, the man without the gun began to search both the girls' pockets. They were telling the truth. No money. Looks were exchanged between both parties; the girls read each others' faces for ideas and the guys nodded in agreement of their next unspoken plan. They stole the girls' jewelry, cellphones and camera. Then, they fled.
http://live.psu.edu/story/55578
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
elephants on the inside
Size 8. A hole in the right one. Faded red color. Worn soles. Elephants on the inside. My TOMs are more than shoes; they are the means by which I travel the world.
The human memory is a fickle, fickle creature. It grasps unrelentingly to those awkward conversations and embarrassing moments but lets the breath-taking scenes lose their edge, their depth, their magic. These red vessels still carry the salt from the North Sea when we wandered through the picturesque fishing towns of Scotland. They hold the dirt and grass stains from Hyde Park and know what beauty sounds like after hearing Mumford and Sons perform live. They have seen the sun rise over the Washington Monument on Easter. They have felt squished grapes as we toured vineyards in California. These memories are real; I have been fortunate enough to see some beautiful places but the reason I say all this so you will think my shoes and I have a quite exotic life.
We don't.
Mostly, I wear my TOMs to class. To walk around downtown D.C. To buy groceries. To walk my neighbors' dogs. To visit my friends. To do the typical, everyday occurrences. But these do not have to be boring tasks. Not always. When I wear my red TOMs, I remember the places they have taken me, the people we have met together and I look forward to all the places I will go and people I will meet. This allows me to treat every day like anything is possible.
TOMs has a One for One motto; for every pair of shoes purchased, a pair will be sent to a child in need. Wearing these shoes, I am reminded how important it is to do things for other people. And I really need to be reminded of this. People always say that you should do what you want in college because it is "your time." But I certainly do not want to live in a campus, let alone a world, where everyone is living for themselves. I promise I am not an over-dramatic person who thinks I have changed the world by buying TOMs. I understand reality. I know that millions and millions of people are hungry, homeless, sad, uneducated, unemployed, and I know that I have not even scratched the surface of our world's problems. But if I can make a small decision like buying shoes in a way that helps one other person, how could I not?
Some might say this is my favorite pair of shoes. Some might say I am simply too obsessed with these shoes and that I should buy a pair that does not have a hole in them. They may be right, but to me, these shoes are a scrapbook. They are a call to action. They are the enablers of adventure.
The human memory is a fickle, fickle creature. It grasps unrelentingly to those awkward conversations and embarrassing moments but lets the breath-taking scenes lose their edge, their depth, their magic. These red vessels still carry the salt from the North Sea when we wandered through the picturesque fishing towns of Scotland. They hold the dirt and grass stains from Hyde Park and know what beauty sounds like after hearing Mumford and Sons perform live. They have seen the sun rise over the Washington Monument on Easter. They have felt squished grapes as we toured vineyards in California. These memories are real; I have been fortunate enough to see some beautiful places but the reason I say all this so you will think my shoes and I have a quite exotic life.
We don't.
Mostly, I wear my TOMs to class. To walk around downtown D.C. To buy groceries. To walk my neighbors' dogs. To visit my friends. To do the typical, everyday occurrences. But these do not have to be boring tasks. Not always. When I wear my red TOMs, I remember the places they have taken me, the people we have met together and I look forward to all the places I will go and people I will meet. This allows me to treat every day like anything is possible.
TOMs has a One for One motto; for every pair of shoes purchased, a pair will be sent to a child in need. Wearing these shoes, I am reminded how important it is to do things for other people. And I really need to be reminded of this. People always say that you should do what you want in college because it is "your time." But I certainly do not want to live in a campus, let alone a world, where everyone is living for themselves. I promise I am not an over-dramatic person who thinks I have changed the world by buying TOMs. I understand reality. I know that millions and millions of people are hungry, homeless, sad, uneducated, unemployed, and I know that I have not even scratched the surface of our world's problems. But if I can make a small decision like buying shoes in a way that helps one other person, how could I not?
Some might say this is my favorite pair of shoes. Some might say I am simply too obsessed with these shoes and that I should buy a pair that does not have a hole in them. They may be right, but to me, these shoes are a scrapbook. They are a call to action. They are the enablers of adventure.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)