"Your characters talk and act like people, but they don't look like people," my fiction writing class told me last week. This constructive criticism has stuck in my head since then.
It's true: I rarely describe the physical features of my characters. Maybe it's because even though I'm a visual learned I struggle to describe real people much less made-up people. There are almost a million 5'4" girls with light brown hair. Maybe it's because I find writing physical description to be boring. "Her dyed red hair fell in her face covering her hazel eyes" lameness. Maybe it's because when I'm reading I envision the characters my own way and don't like being told I'm wrong.
"But we want to see the characters the way you see them," my professor told me.
My question is: Does it matter? If it's vital that a character has curly, dark brown hair looks like she jumped out of a Jane Austen novel, then, yes, of course I'll mention it. But does every character, or even the main character, need to be accompanied by a physical description?
Elizabeth says yes. Otherwise they're just voices.
Nikki says she's stop reading if they weren't described.
Without looking up from the book she was reading, Amy nodded.
I remember as a fourth grader reading The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe before watching the movie. Afterwards, the teacher asked us what we thought.
One student (I wish it was me...) said, "I liked the pictures in the book better."
I gave my protagonist strawberry blonde hair just to appease my classmates. But deep down inside I wonder. Does it matter to you if you know I'm so skinny I disappear if I turn sideways, my hands are so chapped they're bloody, and my not-quite-shoulder-length dirty blonde hair spends a majority of it's time in a three-quarters pony tail?
<>< Katie
"I am sure that some people are born to write as trees are born to bear leaves. For these, writing is a necessary mode of their own development." - C. S. Lewis
Showing posts with label hair. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hair. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Monday, November 22, 2010
Touch
Sometimes Elizabeth is struck with this uncontrollable urge to touch someone's hair. It's really bad when she walks up to a stranger and starts running her finger's through this person's hair.
I had an "Elizabeth Moment" the other day. Sarah was sitting beside me in class with a stack of blank paper in her notebook. During the entire 50-minute class I had this barely controllable urge to run my hand along her beautiful paper. I'm a writer; I can't help it. Don't judge; it's the little things in life. As soon as the professor dismissed the class, my left hand shot across the aisle and onto Sarah's notebook. It happened at the exact moment that she was closing her notebook, sandwiching my hand between the new and the used paper. She gave me a weird look, I explained, and the weird look continued. But she let me touch her paper.
Brothers and sisters in Christ, what if had the same urge to touch lives in His name?
Christian told me this story about his first trip to Guatemala. They were serving food outside the garbage dump in Guatemala City. As the dump inhabitants came for food, Christian and some of the other members of his team sanitized their hands.
"The biggest thing we could do for them was to touch them. These people were considered untouchable and when we touched them to sanitize their hands we accepted them," he explained.
Jesus did the same thing in touching the man with leprosy in Matthew 8. He could have said, "You are healed," and it would have been done. He's God. He has the power to do that. But He didn't. He made a point to touch someone that society had seemed untouchable.
Now, I'm not saying run up to everybody and touch them. There are ways to touch people without ever making physical contact.
Jennifer and Amy just sent letters to their Compassion children in the Philippines and Ecuador. Lives touched. The executive chef served some weakling from the self-serve ice cream cooler. Life touched. We packed seven Operation Christmas Child boxes last week. Lives touched. A grad student spent her birthday doing homework and grading papers, alone, until some friends invited her over to hang out. Life touched.
It doesn't always take much. A small act can have a huge impact.
May the Lord give us all uncontrollable urges to touch the lives of His children and those who do not yet know Him. Let's do it all in His name.
<>< Katie
PS: I was inspired to write this during church this morning. As I was revising tonight, I was thinking about how it was similar to this post I wrote for Kaitlyn's birthday. I just found out an hour ago that after two and a half years of medical treatment 800 miles from home, Kaitlyn finally will be able to go home this December! What a wonderful Christmas present!
I had an "Elizabeth Moment" the other day. Sarah was sitting beside me in class with a stack of blank paper in her notebook. During the entire 50-minute class I had this barely controllable urge to run my hand along her beautiful paper. I'm a writer; I can't help it. Don't judge; it's the little things in life. As soon as the professor dismissed the class, my left hand shot across the aisle and onto Sarah's notebook. It happened at the exact moment that she was closing her notebook, sandwiching my hand between the new and the used paper. She gave me a weird look, I explained, and the weird look continued. But she let me touch her paper.
Brothers and sisters in Christ, what if had the same urge to touch lives in His name?
Christian told me this story about his first trip to Guatemala. They were serving food outside the garbage dump in Guatemala City. As the dump inhabitants came for food, Christian and some of the other members of his team sanitized their hands.
"The biggest thing we could do for them was to touch them. These people were considered untouchable and when we touched them to sanitize their hands we accepted them," he explained.
Jesus did the same thing in touching the man with leprosy in Matthew 8. He could have said, "You are healed," and it would have been done. He's God. He has the power to do that. But He didn't. He made a point to touch someone that society had seemed untouchable.
Now, I'm not saying run up to everybody and touch them. There are ways to touch people without ever making physical contact.
Jennifer and Amy just sent letters to their Compassion children in the Philippines and Ecuador. Lives touched. The executive chef served some weakling from the self-serve ice cream cooler. Life touched. We packed seven Operation Christmas Child boxes last week. Lives touched. A grad student spent her birthday doing homework and grading papers, alone, until some friends invited her over to hang out. Life touched.
It doesn't always take much. A small act can have a huge impact.
May the Lord give us all uncontrollable urges to touch the lives of His children and those who do not yet know Him. Let's do it all in His name.
<>< Katie
PS: I was inspired to write this during church this morning. As I was revising tonight, I was thinking about how it was similar to this post I wrote for Kaitlyn's birthday. I just found out an hour ago that after two and a half years of medical treatment 800 miles from home, Kaitlyn finally will be able to go home this December! What a wonderful Christmas present!
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Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Unusual Joy
All of the following are real quotes from one person's mouth.
The same girl who was on the jumbotron speaking whale...
One of my anonymous readers... Melissa Joy Noel.
She's been begging me for a birthday blog for years, and I'm really not sure what to say to the girl who threw herself a 19th birthday party at the city pool. We played with shaving cream and silly string on the playground...
I think for her birthday I will donate blood because I'm eligible for the first time ever. Then I'll give her the information pamphlet. I can just hear her reading it, "Definition of sexual content... AHHHH!!! ... whether or not a hmmmhmmm is used... EWWWW!!!"
I love Melissa. She brings unusual joy into my life. Selflessness, a strange sense of humor, and silly string. What more does a person really need?
<>< Katie
- "We should eat eight of the elderly because then we wouldn't have to go buy more prizes."
- "Ohh! Ambulance parking. We could park there. Bob, turn on your lights!" [Bob drives a minivan]
- "Men don't have hair."
- "I want to eat my words because I didn't have breakfast, and I'm hungry."
- "AH! You just decapitated me again."
- "I had a dream last night that I actually behaved at youth group. Thank goodness it was only a dream!"
- "There are dominoes in my shorts!"
- "Look! That tree is moving. Oh, wait, the bus is moving."
- "Naked! Hehehe Silly! Plethora, giggle, tomatoes." [This was a text message sent to the wrong person]
- "Ew! Rick Warren!"
- "What does 'nagivet' mean?"
- "ATHANASIAN CREED! Exploring His manhood? Oh! This creed is dirty!"
- "That's why I make out with Katie: she goes to seminary next week." [That is what we heard. What she really said was: "That's why I hang out with Katie: she leaves for school next week."]
- "I don't need caffeine. I'm pre-caffeinated."
The same girl who was on the jumbotron speaking whale...
One of my anonymous readers... Melissa Joy Noel.
She's been begging me for a birthday blog for years, and I'm really not sure what to say to the girl who threw herself a 19th birthday party at the city pool. We played with shaving cream and silly string on the playground...
I think for her birthday I will donate blood because I'm eligible for the first time ever. Then I'll give her the information pamphlet. I can just hear her reading it, "Definition of sexual content... AHHHH!!! ... whether or not a hmmmhmmm is used... EWWWW!!!"
I love Melissa. She brings unusual joy into my life. Selflessness, a strange sense of humor, and silly string. What more does a person really need?
<>< Katie
Friday, June 18, 2010
Seat Buddy
I first noticed her at the gate. I think it was the three bags and pillow she was carrying. That's twice as many as the allotted number of carry-ons. With her unkempt, wet hair and the luggage she was juggling she personified the word "disheveled."
I was already seated when she boarded the plane. I began to have an internal panic moment as she made her way down the aisle towards me.
Please don't be my seat partner. Please don't be my seat partner.
Lucky for me, she stopped one seat short. This meant I could hear her loud music and conversation without having any of her bags fall in my lap.
I got lost in my book and was only snapped back to reality when I heard the word "publisher." For the next few minutes I eavesdropped. She was in the process of publishing a book. No, she wasn't the child photographed on the cover. That would have cost more. She trusts her publisher and isn't so worried about what to write any more.
At that moment, I wished I could have traded seats with her seat partner. I wanted to ask Disheveled about her publishing experiences. How she find a publisher, did she have an agent, what was her book about, where would it be sold, was she exploring online publishing? I had a million questions and not the opportunity to ask them. Quite possibly because I'd been praying for her to be seated somewhere else.
Shame on me. I judged before I knew.
Oops.
<>< Katie
I was already seated when she boarded the plane. I began to have an internal panic moment as she made her way down the aisle towards me.
Please don't be my seat partner. Please don't be my seat partner.
Lucky for me, she stopped one seat short. This meant I could hear her loud music and conversation without having any of her bags fall in my lap.
I got lost in my book and was only snapped back to reality when I heard the word "publisher." For the next few minutes I eavesdropped. She was in the process of publishing a book. No, she wasn't the child photographed on the cover. That would have cost more. She trusts her publisher and isn't so worried about what to write any more.
At that moment, I wished I could have traded seats with her seat partner. I wanted to ask Disheveled about her publishing experiences. How she find a publisher, did she have an agent, what was her book about, where would it be sold, was she exploring online publishing? I had a million questions and not the opportunity to ask them. Quite possibly because I'd been praying for her to be seated somewhere else.
Shame on me. I judged before I knew.
Oops.
<>< Katie
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Tall and thin isn't great
I normally try to keep the blog a complain-free zone. Today you're going to have to excuse me while I throw a temper tantrum.
"Oh my gosh, you are soooo skinny!"
Every single one of us have said it at some point in time. Please, let's every single one of us erase this sentence from our vocabulary. As well-meaning as it may be, it is often not well-received.
1. You wouldn't walk up to someone who's overweight and say, "Oh my gosh, you are sooooo fat." Would you?
2. A lot of times it's followed up with a concern--either verbally or mentally--about how much the "stick" eats. I understand and appreciate the concern. Eating disorders are a problem in today's society, absolutely. But do you really think your question about how much he/she eats is really the best way to approach the (suspected) problem? I have a close friend who has strugged with an eating disorder. She says comments, even complements, on her weight now are well-meaning but they make her cringe. She hates words like "healthy" and "well" because of the connotations they have, even if those connotations are ones she's put on them.
As someone who has always been skinny, the question about what I eat is down right obnoxious and, frankly, borderline rude. If you want to know about my eating habits, watch me devour a steak dinner. It was delicious the first time. There is no possible way I'd like to taste it a second.
3. "Try finding pants that fit."
That's usually my response to people who feel the need to give me this counter-productive complement. I've written many a blog-rant from fitting rooms as I'm choking back tears of frustrations. It happened again today. Before we left on our shopping excursion, Laura, Mom, and I took measurements. My waist? Yup, ended in a .5. Hips? --.75. Inseam? --.25. It's no wonder clothes don't fit me! We arrived at the store, and I picked out a pair of jeans one .5 larger than my measured waist. They were great... if I were going for a muffin-top look. I searched for pants one size bigger (which is really two sizes since all of the pants were even numbered). Perfect, if I wanted to store a book in the back of my pants. Mom miraculously was able to find the odd number, the middle size. Too small in the front; too big in the back. Just my luck! Discouraged, we left, and I realized I have one alternative to this constant fight: nudist colony.
Please, I beg you, just leave the weight subject alone. If you must make a complement about a physical aspect of a girl's body, pick her hair, her eyes, her smile. Tell her she's beautiful but don't use her weight to justify your opinion.
Thanks for letting me vent. I'd love to hear your thoughts, if you agree or if you think I'm crazy.
<>< Katie
"Oh my gosh, you are soooo skinny!"
Every single one of us have said it at some point in time. Please, let's every single one of us erase this sentence from our vocabulary. As well-meaning as it may be, it is often not well-received.
1. You wouldn't walk up to someone who's overweight and say, "Oh my gosh, you are sooooo fat." Would you?
2. A lot of times it's followed up with a concern--either verbally or mentally--about how much the "stick" eats. I understand and appreciate the concern. Eating disorders are a problem in today's society, absolutely. But do you really think your question about how much he/she eats is really the best way to approach the (suspected) problem? I have a close friend who has strugged with an eating disorder. She says comments, even complements, on her weight now are well-meaning but they make her cringe. She hates words like "healthy" and "well" because of the connotations they have, even if those connotations are ones she's put on them.
As someone who has always been skinny, the question about what I eat is down right obnoxious and, frankly, borderline rude. If you want to know about my eating habits, watch me devour a steak dinner. It was delicious the first time. There is no possible way I'd like to taste it a second.
3. "Try finding pants that fit."
That's usually my response to people who feel the need to give me this counter-productive complement. I've written many a blog-rant from fitting rooms as I'm choking back tears of frustrations. It happened again today. Before we left on our shopping excursion, Laura, Mom, and I took measurements. My waist? Yup, ended in a .5. Hips? --.75. Inseam? --.25. It's no wonder clothes don't fit me! We arrived at the store, and I picked out a pair of jeans one .5 larger than my measured waist. They were great... if I were going for a muffin-top look. I searched for pants one size bigger (which is really two sizes since all of the pants were even numbered). Perfect, if I wanted to store a book in the back of my pants. Mom miraculously was able to find the odd number, the middle size. Too small in the front; too big in the back. Just my luck! Discouraged, we left, and I realized I have one alternative to this constant fight: nudist colony.
Please, I beg you, just leave the weight subject alone. If you must make a complement about a physical aspect of a girl's body, pick her hair, her eyes, her smile. Tell her she's beautiful but don't use her weight to justify your opinion.
Thanks for letting me vent. I'd love to hear your thoughts, if you agree or if you think I'm crazy.
<>< Katie
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Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Wham
I really love that this is Celebration Week for one reason and one reason only: Nikki is busy being Captain of Logistics, so I can say all sorts of facetious things about her, and she won't see them for a few days. :-)
This morning I read StorytellERdoc write, "I thought I might be getting pranked by one of my smart-ass friends. Why do I let those types into my life?" Instantly, Nikki was laughing as she sat in the forefront of my mind.
Not a half-hour earlier I ate breakfast with her where she reiterated her enjoyment in this new-found game of licking things to gross me out. Did you know: supposedly if someone licks you on the back of the arm just above the elbow you don't feel it. Part of me hopes that's true, so I don't have to feel it when Nikki tries. The other part of me prays it's not because then she'll be sneak-attacking me around every corner. I'll never be able to wear short-sleeved shirts in her presence again!
"Sorry, I'm late," she said sitting down at breakfast with me. My bagel (with extra cream cheese) was half eaten already. "My hair decided it wanted to be uncooperative today."
"I'm sorry," I said with a smile, I understand all too well what it's like to be the victim of uncooperative hair.
"It's ok. Who really cares if my hair has this need to stick straight up on my head? Not me. There are much worse things that can go wrong than uncooperative hair."
I like that positive attitude. I need that positive attitude. This is why I let the smart alec types in my life: sometimes they make good points and the rest of the time they just make me laugh and squirm. With Nikki, even though one of her main goals in life is to vex me as she picks at my "particular personality," I still love her and desperately need her friendship and joy in my life.
<>< Katie
Ok, so I lied about why I love Celebration Week. I really love it because it gives our campus an opportunity to unite as "one voice, one spirit, one heart to praise Him. We are the body of Christ." Annoying Nikki without her knowledge is just an added bonus and a delightful change to the norm!
This morning I read StorytellERdoc write, "I thought I might be getting pranked by one of my smart-ass friends. Why do I let those types into my life?" Instantly, Nikki was laughing as she sat in the forefront of my mind.
Not a half-hour earlier I ate breakfast with her where she reiterated her enjoyment in this new-found game of licking things to gross me out. Did you know: supposedly if someone licks you on the back of the arm just above the elbow you don't feel it. Part of me hopes that's true, so I don't have to feel it when Nikki tries. The other part of me prays it's not because then she'll be sneak-attacking me around every corner. I'll never be able to wear short-sleeved shirts in her presence again!
"Sorry, I'm late," she said sitting down at breakfast with me. My bagel (with extra cream cheese) was half eaten already. "My hair decided it wanted to be uncooperative today."
"I'm sorry," I said with a smile, I understand all too well what it's like to be the victim of uncooperative hair.
"It's ok. Who really cares if my hair has this need to stick straight up on my head? Not me. There are much worse things that can go wrong than uncooperative hair."
I like that positive attitude. I need that positive attitude. This is why I let the smart alec types in my life: sometimes they make good points and the rest of the time they just make me laugh and squirm. With Nikki, even though one of her main goals in life is to vex me as she picks at my "particular personality," I still love her and desperately need her friendship and joy in my life.
<>< Katie
Ok, so I lied about why I love Celebration Week. I really love it because it gives our campus an opportunity to unite as "one voice, one spirit, one heart to praise Him. We are the body of Christ." Annoying Nikki without her knowledge is just an added bonus and a delightful change to the norm!
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Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Hand Talk
I went home for Easter and got my hair cut the first morning I was there. While I was getting used to the new length, I was seeing people who hadn't seen me in four months therefore would not notice my hair. Now that I'm used to it, I'm back with people who see me everyday and notice my hair is different. It's a bit weird.
Yesterday I ate dinner with my deaf friend, Renee. While we were sitting there, my friend Kevin walked by and noticed my new haircut. Unfortunately, Kevin doesn't understand "hand talk" (that's what he calls ASL). Kevin used hand gestures to indicate short hair before adding a thumbs up. Obviously, I'm not deaf, so Kevin could have just quickly voiced that he like my hair cut before moving on, yet he didn't. He was respectful to Renee to communicated the best he could with "hand talk".
Normally when we see things we don't know, we shy away from the situation and are uncomfortable. Kevin could have told me later that he noticed my hair, or he could have ignored me all together. He could have voiced his idea. He had plenty of other options, but he opted to do his best and communicate with me in a way that was fair for me and for Renee.
To borrow Neal's words, "Go do the best you can for Jesus. Even if you have to go slowly. Do it for Him."
<>< Katie
Yesterday I ate dinner with my deaf friend, Renee. While we were sitting there, my friend Kevin walked by and noticed my new haircut. Unfortunately, Kevin doesn't understand "hand talk" (that's what he calls ASL). Kevin used hand gestures to indicate short hair before adding a thumbs up. Obviously, I'm not deaf, so Kevin could have just quickly voiced that he like my hair cut before moving on, yet he didn't. He was respectful to Renee to communicated the best he could with "hand talk".
Normally when we see things we don't know, we shy away from the situation and are uncomfortable. Kevin could have told me later that he noticed my hair, or he could have ignored me all together. He could have voiced his idea. He had plenty of other options, but he opted to do his best and communicate with me in a way that was fair for me and for Renee.
To borrow Neal's words, "Go do the best you can for Jesus. Even if you have to go slowly. Do it for Him."
<>< Katie
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