sarah HANNAH gómez

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Oh, G-d. It’s begun again. College writing workshops always turn me into such a bitch, but can I help it if I think people who don’t know the first thing about writing shouldn’t be allowed to take them?

I have a feeling that even though this is a more advanced class, one specifically for majors and minors and not for people to use as an arts class, it’s not going to be as good as my class last semester, which wasn’t all that great. Mostly I think my teacher, who does seem pretty cool, won’t appreciate my contributions to workshop. She seems too concerned with not hurting people’s feelings, and she’s a bit flaky with order and structure. I subscribe to the idea that anyone who is going to be a writer needs to a) have some natural talent, b) be willing to realize that natural talent isn’t everything, c) read a lot and internalize at least the basics, like how to spell things and use correct grammar, and d) have a fucking thick skin.

I most definitely didn’t have one when I started writing. Who would at seven? But once I started to get serious, I started going to writing classes, and any discomfort or offense I took, I kept to myself. And I used it. I was really hurt by a lot of the things said about my writing, but looking back, it either wasn’t that mean, or it was completely on target. And I knew I wanted to be a writer, so I just kept working.

My problem with college writing classes is that I waste money ($17 in copies last week and a bunch of people just missed class and asked me for an emailed copy later) on copies of stories that are generally not read until the day of workshop, not the night before, as assigned. No comments are written on them, because no one understands the concept of a useful critique. What is a workshop but a waste of time to the writer and the critiquer if the critiquer has only read the story once and only has about three general comments about the entire thing? No one even looks confused when they hand the blank story back to the writer. Thanks, guys.

I’m applying for NYU’s Writers in Paris program this summer. If I get in, I’ll be able to finish my workshop portion of my minor there and not have to take any more of U of A’s worthless undergrad creative writing classes. Everywhere I go, I still look to recreate my experience at NBF, which will probably never happen, but since this program requires a sample as the application, maybe the quality will be upped just a little.

And if not, who cares? It’s Paris!

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Yeardley Smith writes books now. I’m reading her children’s novel, I, Lorelei , right now and loving it. It just came out earlier this month, I think, and my review should be out soon.

I think everyone knows at this point how much I love children’s books. I think generally, a children’s book says a lot more about the current state of society and culture than your average adult novel. Of course, there are good novels and bad novels in every area, and “children’s book” is not a genre, it just denotes an audience, but still. I will go out on a limb and say that. And they’re just fun.

This one is good for many reasons, but I’ll only talk about two of them so I’m not cheating on my review. First, I loved the book from the first page because of the Marilyn Monroe references and the subsequent references to Scarlett O’Hara, “West Side Story,” and other things that adults will recognize, and un-cool kids will not. Lorelei’s middle name is Lee, which is a pretty obvious homage to the Lorelei Lee of “Gentlemen Prefer Blondes.” Hooray!

And even better is the thing that I am always trying to explain to other writers and just to people in general, about how simple and necessary it is to subtly insert diversity into novels. Diversity is not a novel only about Mexican or Japanese or black people. It’s also not when you insert one Jewish character in a story for the sole purpose of inviting some sort of conflict or plot device directly relating to that person’s being Jewish. Sometimes people who aren’t WASPs just exist, and they’re not strange or different as a result. I, Lorelei has a perfect insertion of this–the “cutest boy” in the sixth grade is biracial. Perfect. Love it.

Any little thing can make me happy.

I have everything I need but no idea how to use it.

the belzhar

february reading in review

what else i’m up to, and where

the walls around us

i accidentally secretly watched the entire twilight saga

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