Um, there IS an 'i' in Abnegation

I'm not selfless. 

But because I said that, you probably think that I mean the opposite. So I am selfless.

Random blog reader: Wait, what?

Exactly. 

But moving on, one of the most interesting things I learned from Divergent was the connection between selflessness and bravery. That in order to be selfless you must be brave. And in order to be brave you must be selfless. To an extent.

But the greater idea I felt that came from the comparison of two very different virtues was the effectiveness of either one in society. As in, if you fully commit to one--specifically in choosing to be selfless--what good does that actually do?

The Abnegation seem to be the "nicer" people compared to their faction counterparts. Yes the Amity are peaceful, but they seem more delusional than kind. Whereas the Abnegation are expected to put aside their wants and desires--even going as far to sacrifice their needs for the better good of servings humanity. Sounds like you'd want them to be your friend.

Need something? Gray best friend to the rescue!

Except they wouldn't use an explanation point. But just like there is an 'i' in Abnegation, there is also an 'i' in life. So how can I be selfless without compromising the own quality of my life? I can't.

And to some extent, I'm fine with that. It feels good to sacrifice my needs for others. Sometimes. But if I did it all the time--with no question, ever--wouldn't that be selfish? To myself?

Exactly.

Divergent is a dystopian novel due to the attempt to create an utopian society. Even selfless intentions are flawed. Even though I'm trying to sound like I'm making sense, not everyone is going to follow what I'm saying. This world is corrupt. Sadly, most efforts to fix it only exposes new problems.

So we try to be better people. Selfless. And then the corrupt cycle repeats.

Look at how happy I am.

 But you're not happy.

I'm going to throw this at your face, Peter.

And then you leave your faction. And then you throw your sweater at Peter. It's okay to throw your sweater at Peter.

And now I'm beginning to sound like a Direct TV commercial.

A bit overdue, but still a cause for celebration

I just finished the first manuscript I've ever considered for publication. Like almost a month ago (June 27th to be specific). Anyway, I made this face.

Victory is mine, witches!

And I am proud of this face.

Now. Finishing something like writing a book is one of the most relieving, fulfilling experiences out there. At least to me it was. And I'd like to think of my written works as my literary babies. I mean, I was there for them when they were only a simple thought in my rather sporadic head. It's an extension of myself, and I am eager to share it with the rest of the world. To show how great she is. Yes, The CR is a girl .

So, even though I have no children of my own (I'm a soon-to-be sophomore in college, so please don't judge me), I'd like to think about the initial completion a manuscript (before the revisions, the 300 pages of un-edited word vomit you're so proud it's almost gross) as the moment a kid graduates from high school.

They're pretty much done in terms of solely needing your overprotective guidance. It's the same with books. I know some people have friends look over their work as they write it, but for me it's sort of a race to the finish. I just have to get it done. Because even if I try to waste my time by editing (though, I will edit little things--necessary things--that come to mind so I don't forget) I'm still going to have to edit later. Like, a lot.

So now that your work can officially be called a "complete manuscript", just like a child has graduated from high school, they're out in the free world.

You can't protect your manuscript from scrutiny (beta readers, critique partners) if you want it to get better. Just like you can't keep your kid at home forever if you want them to make their own mistakes and grow from there. But it still hurts to see your manuscript/child being attacked--I mean, helped.

I'll write another post about my reaction to my beta readers and having to grow a thick skin. I'll also go into some of the specifics of things that tend to be wrong with manuscripts. My manuscripts. And something Divergent related.

Remember. The manuscript will always be your baby. The CR is mine.

But nobody likes a wimp, and once the glow of writing something that is yours wears off a little(usually a month later), you will grow to see the flaws that everyone else tried to point out to you.

And then you'll be crying to your mama.

Don't cry to your mama.

It's Not About Originality (It's About Not Being Blind)

Look around you.

Everything you see, everything you do, everything you associate yourself with is guilty of unoriginality in some way or another.

Originality! Wait, I don't see it.

This is where most of my dread comes from in writing. I constantly worry that what I have written has it been done before, better even. And that people will brush my work away, wrinkling their noses in disgust. Because I am garbage.

But we hear it. We hear people say that The Hunger Games is just a teen angst version of Battle Royale. We hear people say that Divergent is just a less intense, matrix-themed Hunger Games. But on what grounds? Where do we stop looking at something as it's own entity and see it merely as an unrelated expansion of what's already been done? And then done again?

So far, Harry Potter is the only novel set that I hear people go on about how original it was, and how special it was. I never finished the Harry Potter series, partially because my sister's obsession with it sort of led me astray, but what I read didn't seem any more original than the books I mentioned above. Stronger, more dynamic world building, perhaps, but nothing that truly appealed to my interests.

Everything is original. And everything is cliche. You really can't avoid it. And when you think you are, you're usually falling into another trap. That's why I have to stress that character motivation their choices, and they choices the author makes are essential for a less contrived product.

Example: Two boys were the best of friends, until friend A (let's call him Aaron) grows up to be a sexy beast over the summer and is instantly thrown into popularity when he returns to high school in the fall. Friend B (Baron!) has no such luck. Still short and stick bone skinny, he watches his friend get sucked into the limelight while he's left in the dark.

Sound familiar? Good!

A million people could write a story with this premise and people would still buy more than one of these books. One, people may like to read certain plots. Over and over. Two, if the stories are told in different, interesting ways, then you are not going to feel like you're reading the same thing. Over and over.

Because a lot of things could happen. Maybe the story is told to the more popular guy's point of view, which usually doesn't happen. Maybe Baron becomes the unlikely bad guy by teaming up with someone and wreaking chaos on the populars. Maybe they were gay lovers, and the story progresses beyond high school and their journeys of navigating adulthood without each other's support. Maybe Baron has a disability. Maybe Aaron doesn't want to be popular. Maybe he doesn't want to be friends with Baron anymore either. Hmmm....

Cliches are only cliche because they work. The important thing is not to be outright cliche because no one wants to hear the same story over again. Because even if you have different characters and a different setting, people aren't stupid. They're not going to see past your gimmick. And if they do read it, they're probably not going to like it.

Life's a competition. I think when the author realizes this, two things happen.

1. You try to replicate what has been done before. It's less creative, but safer.

2. You try to push yourself as far as you can and come out with a work of staggering genius. Maybe.

Your pick.

A Good Bye Lullaby

I'm feeling nostalgic today.

It could be the rain. It's probably the rain--but I feel like singing a song. But I don't want to make you tone deaf.

So listen to this  and write on.

What's Your Super Power?

My sister tells me that I have the power to annoy people without trying.

I don't know how useful that is, but I'll accept her statement. I'm annoying. I talk to much at home because I never say anything at school, and I sing at random, high pitched intervals for reasons I don't even know.

But if I had a choice, I think I know what it would be.

Yes. I would want to be a blue man.

Teleportation and agility.

Now, I'm not going to go all geeky on you and tell you the extent of Night Crawler's powers ( you can read all about it right here) but just know that he has the basic ability to teleport place to place, and has athletic abilities that rival any Olympian.

Only, unlike NC, I would like to be able to teleport anywhere and everywhere without it exhausting me. Plus it would eliminate travel expenses and stress. Which are the two reasons why I hate traveling. And I would like to have great agility because that only goes hand in hand with teleportation, right?

So this isn't a post about writing. Shocker. But I'd like to think writing is my normal person power.

Tell me, what's yours?

And don't pick something stupid like being about to eat whatever you want without getting fat and dying of high cholesterol.

 Too easy and not very super.

Motivation is Motion (So Stop Thinking)

I'm not going to pretend to be a motivational speaker.

Because even when my younger brother asks me for advice, he always mumbles away how terrible it is. I think this is because even if you try to advise someone (no matter how well you know them) the advice you give them can never be authentic.

My words aren't to help him. They are to help him if I were him.

I don't know if that completely makes sense, but it goes into the whole if you put yourself in someone else's shoes mentality. I like my shoes. Hell, I don't even think that I'm that fond of wearing shoes.

So what am I supposed to do in your shoes? Let alone my brother's size twelve shoes?

And as I used to think of ways to help someone vocally, it occurred to me that I do not get much out of someone telling me things. If I see you do something, or if you encourage me to do something, then there's some progress.

There's motivation.

This kind of reminds me of a TV show. I don't know if you've seen the episode of How I Met Your Mother where the character Barney tells his friend-hitman-compadre Ted to stop thinking. But Ted's a thinker. He probably read the book "Oh, the Thinks you Can Think!" repetitively as a child. Anyway, once Ted has this mentality (and a little alcohol) in his system, he ends up doing some pretty courageous (and stupid) things he would have never attempted.

A pineapple? Holy crap, I messed up bad...

Now I'm not saying, "Go out! Be as reckless as possible! Just do, don't think!" But I'm not advocating a total think-happy existence. Because it's not a happy one. It's actually sort of dismal.

Because when you think about things, you remember the odds of life. Like the fact that your book might not get published. Or the fact that you probably won't even finish it. You think about how many other people are trying to do whatever it is you want to do. And a lot of them are better at it then you, too.

You think about how much high school sucked. Not really in the sense that you were bullied, or mocked out-rightly, but in some sense you wished you were. You think about how being completely ignored hurts in a numbing kind of way. But it hurt all the same.

Okay, okay. Enough of the sad feelings. I'm trying to say that your mind can destroy you before anyone else does. Or it can produce great things. But sometimes you have to distance yourself from your thoughts, and just do something.

Stop thinking about how much you hate math and just finish your math homework.

Stop thinking about how scared you are of your audition and just rock it.

Stop thinking about how hard it is to publish a novel and just write it.

Just do it.

And see what happens.

Expectations and Sequels (It's a Deadly Combination)

Expectations are a terrible thing.

And when you have a sequel, expectations come out with vengeance. Why?

I'll tell you.

Book One 

Maybe you've heard of the book you're about to pick up. Maybe you haven't. But the cover's pretty, the summary sounds interesting, and there's money in your pocket. You buy it. You read it, no expectations. You grow with these characters. You decide which ones you like, which ones you hate, which one(s) become(s) your new fictional lover(s). You enjoy the action and setting. You put down the book.

That was a good book.

Post Book One 
Now you have opinions. There are certain things characters did in the first book that made you love them. So now you expect those characters to do those same things. But in a different way/setting. You begin to formulate how this and that is going to happen in the sequel. Nancy and Ralph are going to become lovers. Merlin Prep will be taken over by a zombie apocalypse. Duffy will realize that she's in love with Ralph and that her favorite teacher was turned into a zombie. Duffy will become a zombie slayer.

Wait, this sounds familiar....

Duffy the zombie slayer.


Book Two

It was nothing you expected. At all. And frankly you're a little bit peeved at the author. How dare he/she not think your ideas were wonderful? With every page you read, you begin to loath the text more and more. You finish it, admit that it wasn't all that bad, but not as good as the first you read impartially. Ultimate conclusion? You hate this book.

You know, unless you're that happy-go-lucky person who gives five stars to everything they read. Then your expectations were blown. Immensely.

But you're not them. You're still mumbling. Bemoaning.

"The trilogy better be better!"  You say, not realizing your doing it again. Expecting...

And then the cycle repeats.