As part of my English major, I have to take a Communications class. Someone please explain that one to me. All I know is I would much rather write about donating blood or girls tumbling from walls than yesterday's bank robbery on 15th and Main St.
My optimistic attitude about this class quickly moved to dislike. I even mentioned it to one of my English professors.
Professor: You know, you could have taken Poetry Writing instead of Communications Class.
Katie: I know, but I thought this would have been the lesser of the two evils.
Professor: You would have had more fun in the other evil.
Well, I think out of boredom, some of very clever lines have flowed through my fingers in this class. And let me tell you, they're not about the hit-and-run that happened around 10pm last night...
The professor handed us a speech asked us to write an article about it, and said, "You're going to like this one." I'm not sure if it was out of spite for the professor or spite for the class, but I was determined for prove him wrong. It was pretty easy. This was a Steve Jobs speech, and I'm a Windows girl. The irony is that this post was written from a Mac.
With a Shaun Groves post about fear pulled up as an incentive to finish the assignment, I began to read the speech. Naturally, I did everything my English background told me to do: critique, analyze, examine. Well, that's apparently a big no-no for journalism, but I didn't really care. I figured I would turn the filter on later.
Somewhere around the middle of the speech, I moved from loathing the assignment to tolerating it. Although I did not agree with all of the theology, Jobs was making good points.
"I had been rejected, but I was still in love," he said.
Jobs was talking about being fired from his own company, but I think that's a line that can be applied to a plethora of different aspects of life.
"I had been rejected, but I was still in love."
For me, the application that shines through most clearly is in writing. I submitted a piece that I thought was a sure-thing, but it was rejected. That's a hard pill to swallow, especially for someone who can't swallow pills.
"I had been rejected, but I was still in love."
I was rejected, but I still love to write. Just like Jobs continued to pursue a dream that eventually turned into the development of Pixar and NeXT, I am continuing to pursue a dream. Who knows where it will turn out.
This is what I do know: God gave me a passion for writing. It is one of my strengths. There is no way that He isn't going to use it for His glory. I am willing to suffer through every Communications class required for my English major just to see that come to fruition.
<>< 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 poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Coffee Shop
I have a secret. One I've never shared before.
Some day I want to be a coffee shop dwelling writer. I haven't decided yet if I want to be the sketchy person perched in the corner silently observing or the social butterfly who hops tables from the time the coffee shop opens until it closes. I don't know but I'm willing to set aside my dislike for coffee and hatred for the lingering coffee shop smell to achieve this goal.
The long process towards reaching this goal began on Wednesday. I had a nice chunk of free time in the afternoon. My plan was to do go right after lunch, do homework until my meeting at 3:30, finish the meeting quickly, and then write for fun until dinner.
Around 1:45 I walked in to the coffee shop and ordered my favorite drink: a decaf peppermint mocha. Lucky for me, my punch card was full so I got a free venti! Normally I order a tall, so I figured the venti would last me until dinner. It didn't but that's ok. See! I'm on my way to being a coffee drinker!
I found an open table and for the next hour or so I worked relatively diligently. Of course, I did take a break from preparing for my poetry workshop to enjoy some people watching or have a short chat but nothing too substantial.
That is until Jessica found me. I knew I was in trouble when she pulled out the chair and sat down across the table from me. By this point it was about 2:30 and my homework wasn't done yet. She had a coffee date at 3, so I didn't panic. I could still use that last half hour to finish my work and then write for fun (not blog) afterwards.
At exactly 3:00 the bell on the door to the coffee shop rang and in walked Dr. Zirci. It was actually ironic because Jessica and I had just been talking about his wonderful family.
"You're in my office," he teased me.
"Actually, I'm in the coffee shop," I teased back.
"That's my table," he argued.
"I don't see your name on it," I countered.
"This exact table is my office from 3-5 on Wednesday afternoons," he said pulling out a syllabus to show me he does indeed have coffee shop office hours at that time. What a fun professor!
Before he could kick me out of his office I invited him to join me. The three of us engaged in conversation until Jessica's coffee date arrived and I changed tables for my meeting. We left Dr. Zirci alone in his office.
At 4:15ish I returned to my seat next to Dr. Zirci ready to write.
"What are Katie and Dr. Zirci doing?" I heard a voice behind us.
"I don't know. Maybe she needs remedial help," a second voice answered.
"She's definitely not in Anatomy and Physiology; she's an English major. Plus, they're laughing. I'm pretty sure A&P isn't that funny."
"You're just jealous," I wanted to say but I didn't. Instead, I stole a glance at the time on his computer: 5:00. We'd been talking for a solid forty-five minutes; forty-five minutes of my precious writing time had dwindled away. Have you ever tried to write for fun in a coffee shop sitting side by side with a professor who's also your adoptive father? Let me tell you, it doesn't work very well. However, I don't regret it. Instead of writing, I spent forty-five minutes watching YouTube videos, looking at photos, and sharing life.
Sure, my story's not any further along but the time was well-spent.
Be real-life social today. Don't wait for people to join you in the caf because sooner or later dinner will be over and your conversation will wrap up (unless you're David). Don't wait to see wh appears in your apartment because it's only a matter of time before you'll disappear into your bedroom to do homework. Intentionally place yourself somewhere where you will interact with others and do nothing but fellowship. Put aside your plans to share life. Oh, and facebook/ blogger doesn't count, sorry. :-)
<>< Katie
Some day I want to be a coffee shop dwelling writer. I haven't decided yet if I want to be the sketchy person perched in the corner silently observing or the social butterfly who hops tables from the time the coffee shop opens until it closes. I don't know but I'm willing to set aside my dislike for coffee and hatred for the lingering coffee shop smell to achieve this goal.
The long process towards reaching this goal began on Wednesday. I had a nice chunk of free time in the afternoon. My plan was to do go right after lunch, do homework until my meeting at 3:30, finish the meeting quickly, and then write for fun until dinner.
Around 1:45 I walked in to the coffee shop and ordered my favorite drink: a decaf peppermint mocha. Lucky for me, my punch card was full so I got a free venti! Normally I order a tall, so I figured the venti would last me until dinner. It didn't but that's ok. See! I'm on my way to being a coffee drinker!
I found an open table and for the next hour or so I worked relatively diligently. Of course, I did take a break from preparing for my poetry workshop to enjoy some people watching or have a short chat but nothing too substantial.
That is until Jessica found me. I knew I was in trouble when she pulled out the chair and sat down across the table from me. By this point it was about 2:30 and my homework wasn't done yet. She had a coffee date at 3, so I didn't panic. I could still use that last half hour to finish my work and then write for fun (not blog) afterwards.
At exactly 3:00 the bell on the door to the coffee shop rang and in walked Dr. Zirci. It was actually ironic because Jessica and I had just been talking about his wonderful family.
"You're in my office," he teased me.
"Actually, I'm in the coffee shop," I teased back.
"That's my table," he argued.
"I don't see your name on it," I countered.
"This exact table is my office from 3-5 on Wednesday afternoons," he said pulling out a syllabus to show me he does indeed have coffee shop office hours at that time. What a fun professor!
Before he could kick me out of his office I invited him to join me. The three of us engaged in conversation until Jessica's coffee date arrived and I changed tables for my meeting. We left Dr. Zirci alone in his office.
At 4:15ish I returned to my seat next to Dr. Zirci ready to write.
"What are Katie and Dr. Zirci doing?" I heard a voice behind us.
"I don't know. Maybe she needs remedial help," a second voice answered.
"She's definitely not in Anatomy and Physiology; she's an English major. Plus, they're laughing. I'm pretty sure A&P isn't that funny."
"You're just jealous," I wanted to say but I didn't. Instead, I stole a glance at the time on his computer: 5:00. We'd been talking for a solid forty-five minutes; forty-five minutes of my precious writing time had dwindled away. Have you ever tried to write for fun in a coffee shop sitting side by side with a professor who's also your adoptive father? Let me tell you, it doesn't work very well. However, I don't regret it. Instead of writing, I spent forty-five minutes watching YouTube videos, looking at photos, and sharing life.
Sure, my story's not any further along but the time was well-spent.
Be real-life social today. Don't wait for people to join you in the caf because sooner or later dinner will be over and your conversation will wrap up (unless you're David). Don't wait to see wh appears in your apartment because it's only a matter of time before you'll disappear into your bedroom to do homework. Intentionally place yourself somewhere where you will interact with others and do nothing but fellowship. Put aside your plans to share life. Oh, and facebook/ blogger doesn't count, sorry. :-)
<>< Katie
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
"Please"- a Pantoum Poem
Backstory: I'm the editor of our English department newsletter; I inherited the problem of trying to get it published online. After a year of gently reminding, pleading, and sometimes even whining, I've decided to be a bit more aggressive. Dr. Vance is in charge of the English website, and he keeps promising to put the newsletters online. He's also my Creative Writing professor who is strongly encouraging me to explore poetry. Dr. Vance wants me to write poems; I want Dr. Vance to put the newsletter online. This is what comes out. (Not a finished product).
"Please"
If only I were clever,
I'd have a poem about viewing the newsletter* online,
but we both know we'll see it never.
Oh, it would be so fine.
I'd have a poem about viewing the newsletter online,
the joy of having a new website,
oh, it would be so fine
to show the newsletter in a new light.
The joy of having a new website,
the PDFs are ready to go,
to show the newsletter in a new light,
but why is the process painstakingly slow?
The PDFs are ready to go,
and every month again I try,
but why is the process painstakingly slow?
This has become my battle cry.
And every month again I try,
but we both know we'll see it never.
This has become my battle cry,
if only I were clever.
I'd have a poem about viewing the newsletter* online,
but we both know we'll see it never.
Oh, it would be so fine.
I'd have a poem about viewing the newsletter online,
the joy of having a new website,
oh, it would be so fine
to show the newsletter in a new light.
The joy of having a new website,
the PDFs are ready to go,
to show the newsletter in a new light,
but why is the process painstakingly slow?
The PDFs are ready to go,
and every month again I try,
but why is the process painstakingly slow?
This has become my battle cry.
And every month again I try,
but we both know we'll see it never.
This has become my battle cry,
if only I were clever.
<>< Katie
*Author's Note: I edited out the newsletter name for privacy reasons. Since meter doesn't really matter in this pantoum, I don't feel the need to replace it with a two-syllable word. Instead, the word "newsletter" will suffice. However, the real name flows off the tongue better.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Idiot Box
Apparently in Australian slang they call the television the Idiot Box. I might embrace this idea because I almost never watch tv. It was Thanksgiving before my roommate learned the tv in our room even worked. The only show I care about is House, and I haven't seen an episode since I was home a month ago. Ask me if I've seen a certain movie and the answer is almost always no. I don't watch TV and movies.
This afternoon, the tv was on and instead of retreating to my bedroom, I sat down on the futon, computer in hand, and began to blog. Like always, the television stole my attention and it was not long before I was enthralled by the Wife Swap episode where a strict Irish woman living in Pennsylvania exchanged lives with a more laid-back biker woman from Washington.
As with most episodes, these two families were polar opposites. The Irish family spent all day running from activity to activity while the biker family spent their days riding bikes and jumping on bed. Swap the women and there's a problem.
The women want to convert their new families to be identical to the home they left behind while the fathers felt there was no problem with the original lifestyle and refused to change. While I enjoy seeing the way different families operate, this lack of open-mindedness and constant fighting was making me crabby. I don't need any more help getting crabby this week. The only thing stopping me from changing the channel was not knowing which remote goes to the TV and which is for the VCR--ok, DVD player--and the desire not to get up.
Ultimately, I'm glad I watched all the way through because both families were (eventually) able to admit their lifestyle was flawed. Face it, all lifestyles are flawed. Their willingness to see these flaws embrace change is was impressed me.
I don't like change. I don't do it well. Sometimes it's necessary. Since most of us are college students, the changes we need to make in our lives may not be the same as the families (eating dinner as a family at a table, fathers spending more time with the children, having more of a variety of activities in the kids' lives, less controlling mothers...)
That doesn't mean every thing's perfect. Do me a favor, try and find one flaw in your life and work on it. It won't be an instantaneous transformation, but work at it.
I'll try, too. Maybe I'll learn to embrace the idea that everyone else keeps telling me: I can be a poet. Or maybe not.
<>< Katie
Chris: We're going to get two subs and not eat them right away, but the two drinks we're going to drink right away because we don't want it to turn to ice.
Katie: Of course, drinks that turn to ice are never good.
Adam: You CAN make a science joke!
This afternoon, the tv was on and instead of retreating to my bedroom, I sat down on the futon, computer in hand, and began to blog. Like always, the television stole my attention and it was not long before I was enthralled by the Wife Swap episode where a strict Irish woman living in Pennsylvania exchanged lives with a more laid-back biker woman from Washington.
As with most episodes, these two families were polar opposites. The Irish family spent all day running from activity to activity while the biker family spent their days riding bikes and jumping on bed. Swap the women and there's a problem.
The women want to convert their new families to be identical to the home they left behind while the fathers felt there was no problem with the original lifestyle and refused to change. While I enjoy seeing the way different families operate, this lack of open-mindedness and constant fighting was making me crabby. I don't need any more help getting crabby this week. The only thing stopping me from changing the channel was not knowing which remote goes to the TV and which is for the VCR--ok, DVD player--and the desire not to get up.
Ultimately, I'm glad I watched all the way through because both families were (eventually) able to admit their lifestyle was flawed. Face it, all lifestyles are flawed. Their willingness to see these flaws embrace change is was impressed me.
I don't like change. I don't do it well. Sometimes it's necessary. Since most of us are college students, the changes we need to make in our lives may not be the same as the families (eating dinner as a family at a table, fathers spending more time with the children, having more of a variety of activities in the kids' lives, less controlling mothers...)
That doesn't mean every thing's perfect. Do me a favor, try and find one flaw in your life and work on it. It won't be an instantaneous transformation, but work at it.
I'll try, too. Maybe I'll learn to embrace the idea that everyone else keeps telling me: I can be a poet. Or maybe not.
<>< Katie
Chris: We're going to get two subs and not eat them right away, but the two drinks we're going to drink right away because we don't want it to turn to ice.
Katie: Of course, drinks that turn to ice are never good.
Adam: You CAN make a science joke!
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
To Poetry, An Ode
It's no big secret that I don't like poetry. This semester I have to take a class that will involve some poetry. A lot of poetry. Much more poetry than I would like in my entire life is shoved into this one class. Little known fact: I changed my concentration because I didn't want to take a poetry writing class. Yes, any poetry is too much for me. I've been assured that someday poetry will just "click" in your brain and you'll want to read every poem you can find. That's the same thing I was told in high school about chemistry, and I'm still waiting. My goal this semester is to gain an appreciation for poetry. I have no need to call myself a poet; however, I should appreciate poetry.
One of the reasons I dislike poetry is because it doesn't follow traditional grammar rules. In fact, it strives to break them! The nerve! In high school, I was in our poetry club (gasp!), and we had to read poems aloud. That's why I always got after Nick for never punctuating his poems because reading those poems required big breaths. Now, I can talk for a long time without pausing to breathe but reading is a different story. Please put periods and commas in your poems!
Now, a poem.
Written earlier this semester to give myself a starting point for how bad my poetry skills are. Please don't laugh. :-)
"To Poetry, an Ode"
Oh, how I loathe thee.
Why must your torment me incessantly?
Are your frustrations never ending?
Why, oh, why?
For I am a writer,
not a poet.
Give me full-lines,
give me verbose,
give me dialogue.
Hold your couplets,
no need for rhyme scheme,
vanish your pentameter.
It pleases me not.
Free me from your confines,
for I am suffocating, yearning
to breathe again.
Oh, poetry, how I loathe the,
please let me be free!
<>< Katie
One of the reasons I dislike poetry is because it doesn't follow traditional grammar rules. In fact, it strives to break them! The nerve! In high school, I was in our poetry club (gasp!), and we had to read poems aloud. That's why I always got after Nick for never punctuating his poems because reading those poems required big breaths. Now, I can talk for a long time without pausing to breathe but reading is a different story. Please put periods and commas in your poems!
Now, a poem.
Written earlier this semester to give myself a starting point for how bad my poetry skills are. Please don't laugh. :-)
"To Poetry, an Ode"
Oh, how I loathe thee.
Why must your torment me incessantly?
Are your frustrations never ending?
Why, oh, why?
For I am a writer,
not a poet.
Give me full-lines,
give me verbose,
give me dialogue.
Hold your couplets,
no need for rhyme scheme,
vanish your pentameter.
It pleases me not.
Free me from your confines,
for I am suffocating, yearning
to breathe again.
Oh, poetry, how I loathe the,
please let me be free!
<>< Katie
Monday, January 18, 2010
Exercise
Gosh, I love Mondays. Hear the sarcasm. My first class starts at 9am and my last class ends at 9:50pm. Yes, please pray fr me on Mondays especially. This is relational exercise in patience.
I knew it was going to be a weird day in my ASL class this morning. We were talking about different shapes and the professor signed, "KNOW MEDICAL DOCTOR SERVE HAMBURGER CIRCLE IN BOX." Huh? Must have zoned out because that didn't make sense. Yeah, it was "McDonalds" not "Doctor." Both signed "MD" with one on the back of the hand and the other on the inside of the wrist. Oops. Wrong me. Mental exercise.
This afternoon, I was sitting in my hammock reading about poetry. My favorite thing. More sarcasm. It's no wonder I couldn't focus. So, I looked across my room and noticed my bike. Let's go for a bike ride! Ladies and gentlemen, it is JANUARY and I went for a bike ride without my jacket. The terrain here is different than I'm used to and I'm completely out of shape, but even my short bike ride was enough to get some exercise, clear my brain, and enjoy the wonderful weather.
One of my suitemates is currently taking violin for the first time. Back in the day, I used to play viola. Not well, mind you, but I played never the less. Everyone took a turn trying to play her violin and everyone sounded awful. Sorry, girls. When it was my turn, I played an old simple song I remembered and jaws dropped. I remind you, I am not a good violist, but it was great to have a stringed instrument in my hands again. Excellent exercise for my fingers and my brain.
Part one of my Christmas present arrived in the mail today, our Wii. I call it the "you and your suitemates aren't good enough at killing time" gift. It was later followed by a Wii Fit, the "you need to lose weight" aspect of the gift. Huh? The Wii Fit isn't here yet but my shoulder hurts from bowling and tennis. More physical exercise.
However, the most challenging exercise happened in my night class. This is the first time we've met, but the professor has had all of us as his students previously. Prior to even handing out the syllabus, he stated a vague situation and gave us an hour to respond to it privately. This was an excellent writing exercise in my religion class, and I might post what I wrote tomorrow. Really, it was a masked-exercise in discovering Christology. However, it was hard! An emotional and spiritual battle. At the end of class, the professor apologized for "any tear and sweat this may have caused." It caused both. Spiritual and emotional exercise.
Are you in shape? Relationally? Emotionally? Physically? Mentally? Most importantly, spiritually?
<>< Katie
PS: Yes, I realize this was kind of a "I had peanut butter on my bagel instead of cream cheese" post and no one really cares, but it was just a very interesting day and I think you should hear about it. I tried to tie it together. Oh, and I don't really believe the Wii Fit joke aspect of the Christmas present, by the way.
I knew it was going to be a weird day in my ASL class this morning. We were talking about different shapes and the professor signed, "KNOW MEDICAL DOCTOR SERVE HAMBURGER CIRCLE IN BOX." Huh? Must have zoned out because that didn't make sense. Yeah, it was "McDonalds" not "Doctor." Both signed "MD" with one on the back of the hand and the other on the inside of the wrist. Oops. Wrong me. Mental exercise.
This afternoon, I was sitting in my hammock reading about poetry. My favorite thing. More sarcasm. It's no wonder I couldn't focus. So, I looked across my room and noticed my bike. Let's go for a bike ride! Ladies and gentlemen, it is JANUARY and I went for a bike ride without my jacket. The terrain here is different than I'm used to and I'm completely out of shape, but even my short bike ride was enough to get some exercise, clear my brain, and enjoy the wonderful weather.
One of my suitemates is currently taking violin for the first time. Back in the day, I used to play viola. Not well, mind you, but I played never the less. Everyone took a turn trying to play her violin and everyone sounded awful. Sorry, girls. When it was my turn, I played an old simple song I remembered and jaws dropped. I remind you, I am not a good violist, but it was great to have a stringed instrument in my hands again. Excellent exercise for my fingers and my brain.
Part one of my Christmas present arrived in the mail today, our Wii. I call it the "you and your suitemates aren't good enough at killing time" gift. It was later followed by a Wii Fit, the "you need to lose weight" aspect of the gift. Huh? The Wii Fit isn't here yet but my shoulder hurts from bowling and tennis. More physical exercise.
However, the most challenging exercise happened in my night class. This is the first time we've met, but the professor has had all of us as his students previously. Prior to even handing out the syllabus, he stated a vague situation and gave us an hour to respond to it privately. This was an excellent writing exercise in my religion class, and I might post what I wrote tomorrow. Really, it was a masked-exercise in discovering Christology. However, it was hard! An emotional and spiritual battle. At the end of class, the professor apologized for "any tear and sweat this may have caused." It caused both. Spiritual and emotional exercise.
Are you in shape? Relationally? Emotionally? Physically? Mentally? Most importantly, spiritually?
<>< Katie
PS: Yes, I realize this was kind of a "I had peanut butter on my bagel instead of cream cheese" post and no one really cares, but it was just a very interesting day and I think you should hear about it. I tried to tie it together. Oh, and I don't really believe the Wii Fit joke aspect of the Christmas present, by the way.
Labels:
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tears,
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