Note to self: Keep my head from exploding

There's a first time for everything. I've never been one to stress out to the point where crying is the only remedy I am able to carry out, but it looks like now is the time for this feeling to surface.

It could be age, it could be my long absence from an environment with actual deadlines, or it could just be that my responsibilities really are overwhelming... whatever the cause, I'm freaking out. This Assistant Editor gig is taking a lot out of me! I'm getting bombarded by emails daily from the Editor, the advisor, and the section editors, all asking me about time-sensitive issues, that I must scramble to resolve or answer. This is not including the stuff I already have on my plate to do.

Being that this is a school newspaper, this is all done on a small scale, of course, but it's not any less stressful than at a newspaper with a larger audience, I imagine. I'm overwhelmed to the point where I am not sure I can do the job, but then I go back and I think that this is a learning experience, and that these feelings are inevitable-- of course I can do the job! This is just the beginning.

The advisor seems to understand that we should take things easy for our first issue, but I sometimes feel like the Editor doesn't understand that, and just wants to plunge right in like we've been doing this forever. It's not just the actual putting together of the paper that is difficult, it's largely getting everyone to work together effectively, efficiently, and getting them all on the same page. That's the hardest part when you've got a machine that has different parts, each of those parts doing its own individual job in the hope that the end result is collectively the same.

Again, this is a learning experience. Stress is something that one must learn to cope with along with all the other facets of a job, but I guess I'm just not used to this degree of stress.

There is a good side to this, though. It's making me want to drive ahead and give this gig my all. At this point, I think I have no other choice, and I'm happy to adhere.

Now if I can just keep my head from exploding, I think I'll be OK!

If happiness is relative, then I'm its sibling!

It is amazing just how well I'm getting along with every person I'm working with at the paper. I haven't had so much fun and bonded with so many people in ages.

I went to campus yesterday for a mini meeting. Even though it was Friday, a cloudy day and barely anyone was at school, it turned out to be a blast. I got to know the people I'm working with better in a less formal setting. We had more than a few laughs, found out stuff about each other, and just plain had fun.

I'm really looking forward to getting to know all these people more, and perhaps making friends outside of school and away from the newspaper office.

Things will be even more fun when the numerous invitations I receive to go out to eat or get a cup of coffee can be taken up. I haven't been having any trouble fasting for Ramadan, as far as feeling hungry, or too out of it, but I am facing this social obstacle. It won't last long though. This is the sixth day of Ramadan, which leaves 23-24 days until things go back to normal. Ramadan is usually 29 or 30 days, depending on the lunar cycle, never more, never less. Hence, the 23-24 days.

Speaking of Ramadan, like I said, it's going really well. In fact, I don't even feel hungry during the day. I'm not watching the clock and sun with my mouth open and ready for the first bite hovering infront of my face...



Maybe it's me keeping busy, or perhaps it's just that I'm fueling up well enough in the evenings to hold me over until dinnertime, but at least for now it's just not an issue. This makes me very happy.

I'm just one happy chickadee these days.

Fiction is hard when you're an Assistant Editor

My third week of school has come and gone, and I hate to say it, but I'm feeling a little overwhelmed. I'm scoffing at myself for being such a weenie when on paper I'm just taking one class and have just a 4-hour obligation as Assistant Editor, but these things take a lot more time than that.

Firstly, my class is one that works in mysterious ways. I say I have homework, but it's not really homework, it's just writing. I have to do a lot of writing in order for this class to work the way it ought, and that part is as it always is-- difficult. I have some things I can send out, but I wanna send out my best, and right now I don't feel I have that yet.

I have one story I feels is ready, and it got a good response when I posted it up on a forum, but there were some glitches with it that got a mix of responses. No one denied it was good, but I can't decide if what I made my characters do really is hard to believe like some readers said it was, or if the readers who raised concerns are just forgetting that little thing called "suspension of reality".

Being that my story is not science fiction, or fantasy, I suppose some readers take it as just plain fiction based on what might happen in real life. And this is what gets me . . . I, for the longest time was absolutely terrified of writing fiction, because of this exact thing-- writing something unbelievable.

I've voiced this concern to several people in the past. They all waved the hand without the drink in it dismissively, telling me that that's the beauty of fiction; that you can do anything with it.

After giving it a lot of thought, I began to write fiction. I liked it. I felt so free, and I want nothing more than to continue with it. What I found after a few stories, however, is that fiction is very tricky. Now, I've read all kinds of it that rang true to the essence of life (which is what fiction is) but not necessarily true to what might really happen.

My story is a crime thriller on the surface, but if you just lift that layer a teeny tad bit, it's a little deeper than that. It deals with a woman who is very naive. So naive that she has gotten herself into a pickle she thinks she can get out of just by saying she wants out, but ends up having that idea blown out of her head-- literally.

Sounds gory, but it's not.

It's a dialogue-driven story of said woman, and this stranger she meets in the subway.

Some people liked it . . .

"Having lived in New York and been a frequent subway traveler, my observations on this would be ... it isn't odd for him to light her cigarette ... (especially in NY smile) for all kinds of reasons. But I really like her! she is a naive, but yet hip to a few things."

While others, er, not so much . . .

"While I love the ending, I guess I struggle to believe that someone who is frustrated with all the people following her, is going to walk through an alley with a complete stranger (might be my midwest thinking as opposed to a place like New York)".

I have a feeling that the person who struggled to believe that a naive-- naive being a keyword-- woman would be wooed by a handsome gentleman in a tailored suit right after breaking up with what sounds like a thug through her dialogue is missing the point of my story. Again, there is a handsome stranger in a tailored suit, behaving like a gentleman toward a woman who demonstrates a certain quality of, shall we say, evident bad judgement, happens to have just broken up with her thuggish boyfriend on a cell phone . . . in a subway. Had I described a scruffy-looking guy in torn clothes and a full-grown beard approaching this woman, it would be a different issue.

But I've watched people interact with each other in all kinds of settings. Complete strangers talk to each other, and I hear them give each other too much information all the time. All these people are well-dressed and look like soccer moms, and corporate CEO's, but who knows what lurks beneath? It's just how some people are-- they're naive and will talk to anyone who doesn't look like a scruffy weirdo. New York City, Denver, Omaha . . . people are people everywhere you go, and there're always going to be those who are naive, and those who are evil to take advantage of that naivete.

Think about it-- if there weren't such people in this world, we wouldn't have so many disappearances and murders on the news. Moreover, the evening news is proof that such things as women trusting complete handsome strangers can and DO happen.

In the end, I don't wanna be too stubborn and shoot myself in the foot by ignoring people's feedback, but I also don't know these critiquers well enough to know whether they're qualified or not. Ted's review page isn't the same as The New York Times review page, and that's where things become a little fuzzy and difficult to figure out in this situation. I must give this much thought and act soon so I can get moving on submissions, though. I just wish it wasn't so difficult.

The newspaper is also a lot of hard work. I spend a lot of time sending out emails, and reading emails I receive from multiple people. Story ideas, tracking, updating, and keeping everyone in the loop is a lot of work. UH-LOT. And it's my job. On top of all that, I have to write two opinion columns by next Thursday, which is all fine and dandy, but I also have to write for my class, remember? AAAAAAA! It's insanity in my brain right now, but it's all good.

Despite everything I love keeping this busy. It's when I get the most things done, and have the most energy. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna fall over from exhaustion.

The Joy of Giving

So, I've taken a class this semester to help myself get published, and so far, so good. I have yet to get published through this class, but we're still at the beginning of the road.

The interesting thing about all of this is that I keep helping my classmates by giving them tips and website links, and other resources to help them with their writing and publication.

In class I offer nuggets of information I originally thought were known to anyone who writes, but found useful to a few of my classmates who did not know. Everybody does this in class, and I've learned a lot from their nuggets of information myself. We all also love to give each other personal tips.

Dave, an old man who reminds me of Peter Boyle with more hair atop his head, introduced himself to the class like we all did, and talked about what kind of writing he's interested in.

It turns out he's into questioning Christian Doctrine. Well, it hit me as I was sitting there listening to him that I had read an article in an issue of Writer's Digest a while back about a hot and growing market along the same lines. I made a mental note to bring the article in for Dave to look at if I could manage to remember. I did remember, and boy was Dave thrilled. He expressed total thanks when I first gave the magazine to him last Thursday, and then over the weekend emailed me to thank me again. It didn't stop there. Yesterday in class, he came to me and thanked me by saying, "Boy, that magazine you gave me was great."

Yesterday, I got to class, only to find the class before ours still in there. I said hello to Jon, a guy in my class, who has a fantasy book ready to be published. Instead of standing there in silence, I searched in my brain for a topic of conversation. We exhausted one topic, and then it hit me that Jon is a fantasy writer, and had expressed interest in finding out how graphic novels are made. Excellent! Just the day before I had been reading one author's newsletter, in which she had discussed how graphic novels are made, since she is in the process of making one herself. I found the bit to be so interesting and intriguing, that I was wowed by something I never gave much thought to. I told Jon about this, and he was thrilled at my offer to show him said page. Later, I emailed him the link, and got an email back today thanking me.

I'm embarassed by the shower of appreciation for simply transporting a magazine from my bookshelf into someone's hands, and emailing a link I had no hand in creating.

It feels good, though. It is the joy of giving, and the good feeling will do until I feel another form of joy-- that of being published somewhere new.

Thank God for email and email-happy people

I have been out of school for so long, that the idea of remembering "homework" hasn't really re-registered all the way back in my brain, as well as the idea of looking at the syllabus for clues as to what's going on and what's due. I have been living in a world, where you either tell me what you want from me, or I write it down to remind myself later. This is bad, and I must work on getting back into the habits of a good little student.

I am lucky, though, because my professor is one of those email-happy people (she actually dubbed herself '... a professor who will occassionally harass you.'). Well, this is really good, because yesterday-- Labor Day, mind you-- this professor sent out an email to everyone to remind them an assignment was due at the next class.

Awesome! As well as PHEW! I really had no idea that this assignment was due, and so I thank God that email has become such a mainstream way to tell multiple people one simple thing. If it weren't for that email, I would've been truly like a deer caught in headlights today.

Thank you, Dr. Mills, and thank you, whoever invented email. Your concern for mankind will keep many of them from becoming deer in headlights.

I still need to utilize the syllabus and use reminders that are set up by me, and only me; an independent adult and student who wants to succeed.