Ahhhhhh enforced isolation.
A dream come true, for many introverts.
Now if only the extra alone time would result in higher levels of productivity . . . but hey, you can’t have it all.
In response to this pandemic, my college classes have been moved online. I have a love/hate relationship with online classes – I love them because I get to stay home and work at my own pace, and I hate them because so much more work is put on me (no lectures).
But I’m still getting along just fine. I’m almost certain I’ll make another all A semester, if I can just hold out and keep up the momentum. Having summer free should be a relief, though I imagine I’ll get bored within the first week or two of being out of school. Maybe I’ll get back to writing, like I’m planning.
I’ve also been considering some sort of editing internship – only problem is I don’t know where on Earth I’d find one. If I could, I’d like to edit manuscripts. Fiction is my forte, not monotone news articles.
Another thing I’ve thought about is using my English degree to become an English professor, instead of an editor/writer. I’m not super sure about this, because I don’t know that I’m cut out to be one. Although, I could’ve totally taught the Introduction to Literature class I had last semester.
Mm. A good writer would be using this time to write their hearts out, but I’m still having trouble finding the motivation to even start. Once I get started, though, it’s fun and the words come naturally and swiftly. But starting is the worst.
I don’t want to write Ranguvar’s story; I don’t want to start something new. I’m at an impasse – maybe I should find a ladder and go over it. What does that ladder look like? Nobody knows. But it’s there somewhere.
. . . probably.
On a high note, the college magazine, the Pioneer Pen, is almost complete. I did my share of editing, and I’m getting two pieces of prose and one photo published in it. I almost didn’t get my 8-page story in there, but there were so few submissions this year that almost everything got in, including my piece. So, hurrah! Everything worked out.
There were a lot of sad/sappy love stories and depressing poems this year. I think this is a prime example of jaded Gen Z humor/perspective. Haha. Unfortunately my pieces aren’t exactly a walk in the park on a midsummer’s day, so they don’t balance the heaviness-happiness ratio.
I’ve also been invited to be a solo-editor for another college-created magazine, called Number One. It looks like I’ll be doing basic editing (fixing typos, adding/taking away punctuation) as well as formatting the magazine itself. The formatting shouldn’t be super hard, though I’ll need to start learning InDesign during the summer.
Maybe I’ll create and publish my own tiny emagazine here. That could be fun. I know a few people who I’m sure would be willing to submit some pieces of their own for “publishing.” If I do that, I’ll probably make it a mixture of art and academic writing – I should totally publish the 12-page research essay I did last fall on the Tale of Genji. Lol.
Well, I think that just about concludes my debriefing –
Actually, there’s one other super important piece of information. One I feel I absolutely must share with the world. It’s an abomination and we must rally to stop it!
Cheddar Pringles.
They’re disgusting, guys. If you have a can in the house, thank your lucky stars you have me to tell you how awful they are. Throw them out now! Before it’s too late! Get sour cream n’ onion instead!
Okay, are we all on the same page here? Yes? Good. Annihilate all cheddar Pringles. That is your only mission. End them. Go, and release the inner chip-destroyer in your heart of hearts. Save the other good flavors before the cheddar takes over the world.
(Just for legal reasons I do not condone besieging your local Kroger and taking a sledgehammer to all the cheddar Pringles.)
Word Technician 