CP: Can Writing Be Taught?

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Creative ProcessThis post is part of the Creative Process series, in which I will whine, cry, and philosophize about my life as a fiction writer. In the worst case scenario, fellow struggling artists will be heartened by my constant failures. In the best case scenario, a best-selling novel just might be written. 

When my writer friend Cristian Mihai posted about his belief that writing can’t be taught, plenty of people were offended. My first instinct is to agree that writing, like all art forms, can’t be taught the way calculus can. No matter how ungifted you are at math, if you work hard enough at it (or if your Asian mother beats you enough with a stick), you can master it. With painting, singing, and writing, though, if you have no God-given talent, you’re never going to be great at it. However, and this is where I disagree with Cristian, I believe that you can be taught to be better with an art medium. In painting, you can be taught composition, brush techniques, and thinning/thickening paints. In singing, you can be taught to keep a rhythm, stay on pitch, and increase your lung capacity. In writing, likewise, you can be taught to avoid clichés, restructure sentences, and develop characters.

I also agree with Cristian that writers (like all other artists) are not necessarily the best teachers. I think it’s a bit extreme to say that they’re all bad, but Cristian is right that many of them can’t teach because they don’t understand their own creative process. The skill set needed to be a teacher is very different than the skill set needed to do whatever is being taught. I know this because I’ve been a ACT/SAT/GRE teacher at the Princeton Review for years now and, while I can solve any problem, it is much harder to teach someone else to solve it. This is probably why many were upset that Cristian claimed that is much easier to teach than it is to do. To teach poorly is, of course, easy. Just look at all the useless life improvement gurus out there. To teach well, however, is an art. To be able to teach well, you not only have to master the “doing” part, you also have to understand your process well enough to teach it.

With that said, I’m going to attempt to teach you my creative process. The fact is that it’s not a science and it works for me because of my particular personality/ability, but some of it might help you if you’re somewhat like me. This process can be applied to almost anything — visual arts, filmmaking, computer programming — because creativity is present everywhere. In fact, I even apply this process to writing papers for school.

My Creative Process

  1. Creativity comes first. What I mean by this is don’t wait until the end of the day, when your mind is cluttered with work, grocery lists, and your mom’s annoying phone call, to be creative. You need a blank slate, a fresh head, in order to produce your best work. This is why I always try to write in the morning, before I’ve even spoken to another human being.
  2. Don’t create when uninspired. If you’re not in the mood to be creative, then just don’t do it. The result will look as painful as you felt when you created it. When I write papers, I never pick the easiest topic — instead, I pick the one I’m passionate about. Creativity is always easier when you’re inspired. But the problem is that when your creative outlet is also your job, you have to create on a time crunch. To solve that…
  3. Learn to get inspired. Certainly, creativity isn’t a faucet you can turn on/off at free will. But you can develop tactics to slowly coax that inspiration out of you. Sometimes, I get inspired for my writing when I experience other art forms. My favorite is music, but watching a movie can also be helpful.
  4. Don’t get burned out. This should be the golden rule for artists. You need to know your limits and end each day when you still have a little juice left. Take time off and don’t push yourself to take project after project. You’re human and you need breaks. This is why I always take the weekend off.
  5. Push yourself. On the flip side, you also need to know your limits so that you can push yourself to, say, 90% capacity every time. Don’t let yourself be lazy and don’t succumb to your insecurities.
  6. Rest your mind. When I’m working on a novel, I tend to obsess over it every moment of the day, even when I’m not writing. I’m tempted to gush about my plot to everyone who will listen. However, I’ve learned to entertain other hobbies (such as playing League of Legends with Phineas) to take my mind off of writing. If I focus all my thoughts on my writing, then I quickly exhaust my creative juices.
  7. When it comes, do something about it. Sometimes, creativity comes in the shower. Or the few seconds before you fall asleep. Or when you’re in the middle of a job interview. I’m the type of person that can hold an idea for days or even months until I get the chance to develop it. But if you’re the type that loses ideas quickly, then always have a notebook with you where you can jot things down.

You know what the best part of teaching is? When you’re finished, if you’ve done it well, you actually learn something about yourself.

Do you believe writing can be taught? Do you consider yourself a good teacher?

À la prochaine,

R

P.S. The next time I’m posting, I’ll be in China! Get ready for the new travel series.

Happy 300th!

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No, it’s not my 300th birthday. Nor is it my blog’s 300th day of existence — I think we passed both of those marks a while back. Alas, I kid. Though I feel old sometimes, I’m very young at 20 years of age. A few days ago, I got really excited about dragging Phineas to a wine/beer/food tasting at Babo Market, one of my favorite places in Ann Arbor. Then, I realized two things: 1) I’m not legal yet in the States (clearly, I’ve spent too much time in Europe) and 2) I don’t drink. Of course, that didn’t stop me from dragging Phineas out and I proceeded to have a grand old time watching him get inebriated.

Voilà the evidence:

Look at that smile.

Look at that smile.

Now that I’ve gotten very sidetracked, back to the original purpose of this post. Today, we got our 300th follower! This is an amazing feat, considering there was a time when we’d go months without a new follower. Once we hit 200, though, things around here started getting busy and it seems that everyone decided to jump on the bandwagon. Of course, 300 is a rather small band and there’s still plenty of room in the wagon, so if you’re not already in, come on board!

To celebrate this monumental occasion, I just wanted to thank all of you who read regularly. I know many of you who aren’t on WordPress still hop over here from Facebook, so I probably sorta know you. Whether you’re that guy I made out with once in high school or the best friend I never got the chance to know, thanks for taking an interest in my life and my writing. If you ever want to shed the mask of anonymity, please feel free to message me on Facebook or shoot me an email. The best part of being a writer is connecting with the people who read, and I’m always honored to put a name to the reader.

So yeah, today I feel very thankful. When I get up every morning knowing that I have a novel waiting for me, I know that I’ve found exactly what I want to do in this life. I don’t know if writing will be enough for me (meaning sustain my financially questionable habits), but I know that I will always write. Even if it’s only for the small audience of WordPress and not-so-strange-strangers-of-Facebook, I will continue to write. And, by the way, guys, I’m super duper excited about my current novel and I wish I could share it with all of you right away, but there’s still plenty of story to be told. To follow updates, check out my twitter and Facebook page.

How excited I am about my new novel.

How excited I am about my new novel.

As always, un grand merci à tous!

R

OCH: Opposites Attract (Except When They Don’t)

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Rebecca and PhineasThis post is part of the Odd Couple Habits series, in which the idiosyncrasies of my relationship with Phineas will be revealed, to our mutual embarrassment and hopefully to your enjoyment. 

When Phineas and I first met, we weren’t immediately aware that we were complete opposites. Part of it was that people tend to see in others what they want to see (until they’re proven wrong). Another part of it was that we kind of misrepresented ourselves. For example, I thought that Phineas was a intellectual guy who read books by Carlos Ruiz Zafón and wrote short stories in his spare time (he’d put one up in a Facebook note that was pretty good…since then, he hasn’t written rien). He encouraged this image by offering to read my novel-in-progress, which culminated in our first 12-hour-long “date”. As for me, Phineas thought that I was an innocent, naïve girl who would never think of skipping class, drinking, or hooking up. When we started dating, we realized that our differences extended to every facet of our lives. I think I once told my therapist that the only things Phineas and I could bond over were 1) food and 2) sex.

Au contraire, here’s a list of the many things we can’t agree on:

  1. Movies. I’m not kidding when I say that we’ve broken up with each other over film preferences multiple times. The first few times we watched animated movies together, I was compliant because I figured it was a rare occurrence. And I really did enjoy How to Train Your Dragon and Up. After all, they were excellent, well-executed films that happened to be animated. Then, I quickly realized that Phineas liked certain genres (i.e. animated, Jackie Chan, musical) no matter the quality of the movie. This was something with which I could not comply. No, there is no way in hell I’m watching Ice Age 4, which received a measly 37% at Rotten Tomatoes.
  2. Music. Where do I start? I like indie rock, à la Arcade Fire, The Magnetic Fields, and The Decemberists. The most mainstream stuff I can take is Modest Mouse and Mumford & Sons. Phineas likes mainstream. He also thinks that Arcade Fire’s vocals hurts his ears. When he’s feeling edgy, he goes for Adele. Otherwise, Fall Out Boy is his favorite. Thank god we both can enjoy musical “trash” once in awhile — don’t be shocked to catch us jamming to Gangnam Style.
  3. Food. Alright, so I said that Phineas and I could agree with food. That needs a caveat: sometimes. We love many of the same restaurants — Tomukun, Jerusalem Garden, Kang’s — and we both love ethnic foods of all kinds — Indian, Japanese, French — but we still manage to disagree plenty. If Phineas goes grocery shopping on his own, he ends up with: three boxes of spaghetti, tomato sauce #1, tomato sauce #2, three boxes of Hamburger Helper, and ground beef. If I ask him where the fruits and vegetables are, he laughs in my face. On the other hand, my body is a sensitive bitch and if I don’t constantly nourish it with vitamins, I end up with canker sores and indigestion. This is why I do all the grocery shopping.
  4. Sports. I always thought that I’d be the cool girl my boyfriend was so proud of because I actually liked football. Phineas doesn’t like football. I love watching tennis. He doesn’t. I love playing racquet sports — tennis, squash, badminton, you name it. He doesn’t. I used to do ballet and I still appreciate it, but he prefers modern dance. Not interpretive dance, mind you, but hip-hop. He plays volleyball and kendo (I know you don’t “play” kendo, but I always say that to make him mad). What kind of man plays volleyball?! Okay, I know that’s sort of sexist, but I grew up at a high school that didn’t have a boy’s volleyball team.
  5. Hours of the day. I know this sounds ridiculous, but hear me out. Phineas does not believe in mornings; I do. If left alone, he’d happily sleep at 2 am and wake at 11 am. Again, my body is a sensitive bitch, so if I don’t get 10 hours of sleep, I physically fall apart. This means that I’m adamant about getting to bed by 11 pm. This also means that by the time it’s 9 am, I’m raring to go. Hey, let’s hit the gym! Let’s go get brunch! Let’s study at a café! Hello, Phineas? Where art thou, Phineas? Phineas status: MIA.
  6. Languages. As many of you know, I love languages. I speak English, Mandarin, Spanish, French, and Catalan/Italian conversationally. I always thought it’d be hot for my boyfriend to speak in foreign tongues and I thought he’d think it was hot for me to do so too. Not Phineas. He finds it annoying when I speak in a language he can’t understand. French in bed? Forget it.
  7. Cold remedies. Every Asian person in the world knows that when you’re sick, you avoid spicy/fried/cold/sweet foods. Those all aggravate sore throats and induce coughing fits. Phineas doesn’t understand why I don’t want Five Guys when I’m sick. When I insist on something soupy, he suggests soondubu jjigae. Soondubu looks like this:
Soondubu Jjigae

Although this is one of my favorite Korean dishes, you’re seeing that right: red = spicy. Image courtesy SheBlogsHeRambles.

Of all the ways we can disagree, these seven are just a small sampling. They say that opposites attract, but I say: be careful. If you’re the type that avoids conflict, then do not date your opposite. If you’re like me, though, who thrives on drama, then proceed at your own caution.

Are you attracted to opposites? How has dating them fared for you?

Au revoir,

R

Taking Responsibility As a Writer

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My little brother reading Diary of a Wimpy Kid, a book about dudes written by a dude.

Recently, several things happened in my life that made me think more seriously about the purpose of writing. First, my wonderful blogger friend Dennis McHale and I got into a heated discussion about evil in this world. We concluded that there’s little we can do to stop the crisis in Syria or the development of nuclear weapons in North Korea. But, as writers, our job is to alleviate pain — even if it’s just one moment for one person out there. Then, a few nights ago, I explained to Phineas why my writing is so important to me and why I feel so much pressure. As a budding novelist, I am still trying to find my niche in the publishing world. I’m asking myself questions such as: do I want to write mainstream or literary? Young Adult or New Adult? Do I care more about entertaining readers or influencing them?

Finally, I came across this poignant article by Mary McMyne, “Kate and the Beanstalk: What We Read to Our Children”. It is written from the perspective of a mother who wonders about the books she reads to her two-year-old daughter. She writes:

Every book my daughter laid out on the living room floor that night a few weeks ago was a book I had chosen carefully for her, because I believe that the stories I read to her at this age will help to construct her understanding of the world, her taste, her foundation for a whole life of reading.

When I read the above sentence, I shouted, “Amen!”. You see, as someone with a bookworm past, I feel that I’ve learned more from books than teachers, friends, and even my parents. They taught me more about love, loss, and humanity than I could have learned from living a lifetime as Rebecca Cao. McMyne recognizes the power of literature, and that is why she is concerned that women have a lesser role than men in the publishing world.

Women are still seriously underrepresented in America’s most prestigious publications. Book reviewers are still mostly men, reading books by men, too.

She notes that the female protagonists are also underrepresented in children’s literature.

But how many parents think to read their sons books with female protagonists? Not traditional tales like Red Riding Hood or Rapunzel in which the title character is passive and/or disobedient, only to be miraculously rescued by a male hero at the end.

In conclusion, she argues that in order to change the antifeminist scene of the publishing industry, it has to start with the books we read to our children. If we read our daughters and sons books that portray empowered, fascinating female characters, they will grow up thinking of women as empowered and fascinating. Going along with that, I believe that the young adult novels preteens and teens read to themselves are just as important as children’s literature. Perhaps even New Adult and Adult can have a significant influence.

After these three events, I took a hard look at my own motivations and decided that I needed to take responsibility as a writer. To me, that means to stand up for myself and my writing even when the industry pushes me aside in favor of a man. That means to keep writing even when I am disillusioned from rejection or I doubt myself. That means to post about my personal life as a passionate, ambitious, and flawed woman, even if my posts only reach the few hundred who regularly read my blog. That means to write novels that feature strong-willed female leads who face many of the real-life struggles of women today. That means I wish to reach out to the greatest audience possible, while maintaining the integrity and depth of my writing. That means that I will be writing entertaining stories with plenty of romance, sex, and drugs (because that is reality), but that also feature deep and genuine characters.

Fortunately, my current novel is just that.

What is your responsibility as a writer? What is the purpose of your writing?

Ciao,

R

I’m Prettier Than My Boyfriend

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This week is quite nerve-wracking for me. I’m still waiting on my agent’s feedback on chapters 4-9, and I’m not sure what I’ll do if she doesn’t like it. Re-write the majority of my book? I think I’d rather shoot myself. In addition, I’ll be hearing back about my entry in the Hopwood Contest, a writing contest for University of Michigan students. I entered my first novel which — as many of you know — was rejected by publishers. I’m thinking it might have better luck in the Hopwood, since judges’ taste tends to be more literary than editors’. But I’m going up against graduate students in Michigan’s elite MFA program, so my expectations are pretty low.

So…what am I doing in the meantime? Dutifully studying for next week’s Catalan exam? Hell, no. I have been procrastinating like crazy. Recently, I decided to take a trip back to the motherland (Taiwan) and the fatherland (China) in May. I haven’t been to Taiwan since 2009 and I haven’t visited my dad in China in two summers, so I’m super excited. Though my stay in Paris last summer was awesome, there’s nothing like the energy of Chinese crowds and the taste of Taiwanese delicacies. My Taiwanese relatives are already plotting out which restaurants they’re planning to take me to, even though I’ll only be there a few days. Don’t worry, though. I’m planning to finish up my novel while on vacation and I will keep you guys updated on my escapades with a travel series.

Anyway, what does this have to do with procrastination? Well, I spent about five hours on Monday taking passport photos for my visa application. God, who knew it was so difficult to take correct passport photos? There are tons of guidelines. Your head can’t be too big or too small, your glasses aren’t supposed to glare, the lighting has to be just right. When printed out on 2”x2” photo paper, the head must take up 1” of it. Then, my cheapskate mother (love ya, mom!) informed me that she wanted my head to be 1” when printed out on 4”x6” photo paper because it was less expensive to order 4”x6” prints.

After finally getting a good shot, I started to play around with photoshop. You know how studies show that facial symmetry is one of the best indicators of beauty? I decided to test my face for symmetry. And came up with this:

Asymmetrical Face

What I Learned from Taking My Own Passport Photo

  1. My face is asymmetrical. Or ugly. A matter of word choice.
  2. The right side of my face is skinnier than the left. Undoubtedly because I always sleep on my right side.
  3. My right nose half is larger than my left.
  4. My right eye is slightly larger than the left.
  5. Personally, I think my left side is prettier than the right.

Having learned so much about myself in a matter of hours, I decided to put Phineas’ face to the beauty test too. Voilà the results:

Phineas Asymmetrical FaceUpon viewing the above image, I promptly burst into laughter. Especially because of the one to the right. I know, I’m a terrible girlfriend, but I think the issue has been resolved once and for all. I’m clearly the better-looking half of this couple.

What do you do when you procrastinate? Have you ever put your face to the symmetry test?

Salut,

R

Change Is in the Air

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As most of you have noticed, after nearly two years, I finally changed my site theme. I really liked my old one, but it was time to spice things up. The new photos are all self-portraits taken this morning in my apartment. The photos in the photos (whoa, inception!) are from last summer’s trip to Paris, shot with my beloved Minolta. I even added a new page, a self-interview for those of you who want to know a little more about me.

My film camera that I got off eBay for $25.

Anyway, so why all this change? You know, sometimes I love change. Other times, I’m hesitant about it. Now is one of those times where part of me is excited and another part of me is scared. When I started this blog, I didn’t care about “stupid” things like followers, likes, and views. At least, I didn’t want to care about the statistics. I didn’t want to comment on a lot of other people’s blogs to drive traffic to my site and I didn’t want to title my posts with catchy headlines like “How to Get a Boy to Like You”. Most of all, I wanted to blog without worrying about how my writing would be received. I wanted to write for myself, so I could document all the crazy events, thoughts, and feelings at the time.

Gradually, I got pulled into obsessively checking those pesky stats. When I got freshly pressed, I received more traffic than I ever did (or ever will). Still, though, I made sure I stayed true to myself by blogging about whatever came across the top of my head. I wrote the posts I wanted to write, even though I knew other types of posts would get more views. I didn’t share much about my relationship with Phineas. On second thought, if I had, that might have scared all of my followers away! “WTF, this is not what I signed up for. Where’s the unsubscribe button?”

Things began to change when I started to query agents. Since I included my website in my query, I knew they’d be checking my blog. I thought about the image I wanted to portray to a potential agent, or to a potential audience, and I set a lot of my previous posts on private. It wasn’t that I was ashamed of those posts; it was mostly because I didn’t think that way anymore, and I didn’t want people to mistake my past beliefs for my current ones. Then, things changed even more when I got an agent, and she began to submit my novel to editors. Ah! Now, if publishers were going to be checking out my site, then I had better be more careful. When my agent asked if I was on social media and networking with other writers, I said yes, but I knew I wasn’t giving it my best shot. Finally, the last straw was “meeting” a fellow Wolverine and author, Julia Byers, through WordPress. I was super impressed with her, since she’s only 18 (I was clueless as a freshman) and she’s 100% committed to her writing career.

Inspired, I decided that change was in order. This blog is no longer just for me, anymore. It’s for all 198 of you who currently follow it, my loyal Facebook friends who read it, and someday, the readers who will arrive here after having purchased my book. Now, I’m certainly not turning myself into a corporate machine and I still won’t be writing “How to Get a Boy to Like You”, but I am professionalizing myself and the site. So far, what that means is:

  1. An official Facebook page. Please follow this link to like my page, or use the sidebar on the right!
  2. Using Twitter more. I have, like, five followers. It’s pretty sad, and I should figure out how to use the damn thing.
  3. Writing my novel. This was, of course, already in the plan. But now, if I screw this up, the whole world will know and laugh at me, so there’s no way out now.

If you’re a fellow blogger, do you blog more for yourself or for your readers? If you’re a fellow writer, do you write what you want to write, or what people want to read?

À bientôt,

R

OCH: My Abusive Relationship

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Rebecca and PhineasThis post is part of the Odd Couple Habits series, in which the idiosyncrasies of my relationship with Phineas will be revealed, to our mutual embarrassment and hopefully to your enjoyment. 

If Phineas and I ever went to couples counseling, we’d probably get psychoanalyzed to death for having this odd habit. I can picture the middle-aged lady peering at us through her glasses, asking, “You two enjoy insulting each other?” As the French would say, oh la la, that’s not a good sign. Maybe we’ll end up killing each other someday, but for now this is a bad habit we love to have. Last night, we had a conversation that went like this:

•••

Me: Phineas, what would you ever do if we broke up? You’d start dating normal girls and you’d try to be weird with them, but they would just stare blankly back at you.

Phineas: Ahem, I’m more concerned about you. You’d never find anyone to listen to your crazy talk ever again. Plus, there are plenty of weird girls out there. I’ll just find one that’s weird, but not as weird as you. More manageable.

Me: But you’ll be bored in no time, because you like challenges!

Phineas: You give me a headache.

Me: Stop being so white-washed. [Note: this is not a racial slur. I use it because it makes no sense at all, and Phineas is the most Asian person I know.]

Phineas: Stop being so green-washed.

Me: I’m sorry! God. Hey babe, so today I was thinking about redheads. [I tend to change subjects very quickly in a conversation.]

Phineas: Naturally. [It's a well-known fact that I'm obsessed with gingers.]

Me: I was thinking that if all redheads had babies with brunettes, gingerness would die out in like a few generations. But there’s still so many redheads in the world, so that proves that redheads regularly marry other gingers or blonds. That got me thinking how people tend to date people who look just like him. Like us, for example. If people looked at us, they’d think we could be siblings. Cuz after dating for so long, we’re bound to have adopted each other’s mannerisms.

Phineas: Ew. I do not have any of your mannerisms.

Me: But we’re both Asian, relatively thin and tall, you know. We look like the same kind of person.

Phineas (groans): Can you stop thinking for awhile? My brain hurts.

Me (huffs): You just can’t keep up with my conversations.

Phineas: I just don’t want to.

Me: Stop being so white-washed.

Step one.

Step two.

Step two.

•••

This characterizes most of our interactions. I think we may or may not have a communication problem. Or, perhaps, we are subconsciously harboring years’ worth of resentment towards each other that will inevitably erupt in a shootout. Stay tuned, y’all!

Do you and your significant other have an “abusive” relationship? What are some of the most original and senseless insults you’ve used?

À la prochaine,

R

CP: Better Than Tabula Rasa

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Creative ProcessThis post is part of the Creative Process series, in which I will whine, cry, and philosophize about my life as a fiction writer. In the worst case scenario, fellow struggling artists will be heartened by my constant failures. In the best case scenario, a best-selling novel just might be written. 

Guys, I’m so sorry for my prolonged absence! Some of you might have started to think I was serious about quitting college. But alas, no I’m not in Switzerland — I am still slaving away at the U of M. To convince you that I’ve been productive and not simply ignoring you, let me present to you:

Exhibit A, my painting. I’m totally at a lost as to how to finish the background, so maybe I’ll leave it blank and call it modern art.

Horse: I'd like to have some grass to eat, thank you very much.

Horse: I’d like to have some grass to eat, thank you very much.

Exhibit B, my new bad habit. I never thought in a million years that this would happen, but somehow Phineas got me hooked on a certain video game called League of Legends. If you care for your sanity, never ever download LoL. Especially if you’re a perfectionist, like me, you’ll be determined to prove yourself to the world and get that pentakill, goddamnit!

That's me at the top. Unfortunately, I'll never be that good again.

That’s me at the top. Unfortunately, I’ll never be that good again.

Exhibit C, the thing that actually matters. As many of you already know, I’m working on my second novel now, since my first ended up being rejected by publishers. As of today, I’m up to page 61 and 17,026 words and I’ve only been working on it for a few weeks. You know how people wish for tabula rasa in life? I’ve realized that, when it comes to writing a novel, there’s something way better than a blank slate — an agent. Whereas I freaked out every hour of the day over my first novel, now I’m having lots of fun with my second. Knowing that I have someone who believes in me and who gives me immediate feedback on chapters lets me trust my own writing. As a result, I think this one is actually turning out to be better than the first. So keep your fingers crossed for me and perhaps in a few months, you’ll be able to pick up my novel on the bookshelves!

If you have suggestions for my painting or tips to play LoL, be sure to let me know. ;) Lastly, I wanted to thank all of you readers for the support you’ve given me. It’s been incredibly encouraging, and sometimes it’s all that gets me through a bad day. To those of you who’ve been here all along, I really appreciate it. To the new followers, welcome and enjoy.

Au revoir,

R

I’m Dropping Out of College

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I'm going there.

And I’m moving there.

Sorry Mom and Dad, I know you guys worked hard for me to achieve the American dream AKA buy a college diploma, slave away in a cubicle, and climb the social ladder. And I’m sorry I’m not smart enough to take a shortcut like Mark Zuckerburg. But I’m just not cut out for the banal routine that is the university life. I don’t care that I’m a year away from graduating; I quit. You see, I don’t plan to do anything with my degree anyway, so why continue donating thousands to the University of Michigan? Peace out, everyone, I’m quitting civilization.

According to Rousseau, civilization was the downfall of humanity.

But from the moment one man began to stand in need of the help of another; from the moment it appeared advantageous to any one man to have enough provisions for two, equality disappeared, property was introduced, work became indispensable, and vast forests became smiling fields, which man had to water with the sweat of his brow, and where slavery and misery were soon seen to germinate and grow up with the crops. ~ Discourse on Inequality

Therefore, I’m gonna do à la Christopher McCandless and disappear Into the Wild. But I don’t want to die alone and I like to shower and I hate mosquitoes, so I’ve made the necessary adjustments. Voilà my new life plan:

  1. Drop out of school. This might be the easiest thing I’ve ever done. Just stop showing up to classes. Ha!
  2. Pack necessary belongings into Sushin, my car. I don’t think I can live without a toothbrush. Oh, and my iPhone. Can I bring a laptop too?
  3. Pack boyfriend into car. Let’s pack his laptop too. And his toothbrush, please and thank you. How about some soap, too? Boys are nasty.
  4. Move to Switzerland. Wait…you can’t actually drive there. Oops. We’ll board a ship, Sushin and all.
  5. Become a farmer. Let’s farm rice! It makes such a pretty green. And tomatoes, onions, and kimchee cabbage. A chicken coop would be nice. Phineas can hunt wild boor.
  6. Restrict outside communication to snail mail. Except we’ll have internet. How else could I get my daily Gawker fix and Phineas slay enemies in League of Legends? But shhh, nobody will know.
  7. Adopt a grey horse, dog, cat, and baby. Hold on, babies don’t come in grey?
  8. Write a bestselling memoir about my life. Because we need an income. Did I mention that we’re paying someone else to grow our food?
  9. Get really, really sick of Switzerland. I give it a maximum 12 months.
  10. Move back to Ann Arbor, Michigan and resume studies. Rebecca Cao, Class of 2016.

Ciao,

R

CP: Facing Failure

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Creative ProcessThis post is part of the Creative Process series, in which I will whine, cry, and philosophize about my life as a fiction writer. In the worst case scenario, fellow struggling artists will be heartened by my constant failures. In the best case scenario, a best-selling novel just might be written. 

Sometimes, I wish I was born to be anything but a writer. Now, certainly I have other career options. If I wanted that badly to avoid a writing career, I could always work at McDonald’s. Fortunately or unfortunately, though, my writing is what I live and breathe. When I can’t fall asleep at night, it’s because I’m plotting the narrative arch of my novel. When I leap out of bed rearing to go, it’s because I have beautiful blank pages of Microsoft Word awaiting me. When I can’t escape from the grasps of my covers, it’s because today those blank pages are more intimidating than anything. When the neighbors hear me shrieking like this:

it’s because I was just freshly pressed.

Today, I just want to rant about how fucking hard it is to be a writer. To the non-writer, it seems easy peasy — type out 80,000 words and make $80,000. Hey, that’s a dollar a word! Wish I made that much for writing English papers. What they don’t know is how much psychological torture writers experience to finally get a book published. After publishing, you still can’t guarantee that anyone will read it. Perhaps, through a cruel twist of fate, nobody will give a shit about your novel until you’re dead. Some people say that you shouldn’t judge your writing by the number of readers. But how will you ever know if your writing is the best or worst thing to happen to mankind? Your own unbiased, objective opinion? Ha! Check out this Venn diagram, courtesy of Ted McCagg of the Nervous Breakdown.

Writers Explained

Basically, if you’re a writer, you might as well be bipolar. One instant, you think you’re de la bombe. More often than not, however, you feel ashamed to call yourself a writer. Then, when you finally (finally!) find yourself an agent who thinks your latest novel is not so bad, guess what? Nobody else thinks so. After a month out at the publishers, I’ve been informed by various editors that:

  1. Your novel is too literary. Uh, wasn’t aware that I was the next Steinbeck. 
  2. There’s not enough romance. Did you miss the obvious love triangle?
  3. We want more sexiness and emotion. Did I accidentally label my book as erotica?
  4. We want it to be edgier and angstier. You probably didn’t read past the first chapter…
  5. You have a lot of potential. Sigh, did you say that just to be nice?

While my novel is still out with a few editors, it looks like this one isn’t heading down the publishing route. Which means I’m back at square one (plus an agent) and back to the drawing board I go. This also means I’m back in novel-writing status, so if you see me walking towards you on the street, it’s best to run in the opposite direction.

Bye bye, serenity.

Bye bye, serenity.

How do you deal with failure? Is it hard to get back on your feet?

À la prochaine,

R