Week 12: Reflection and the Future

I have always prided myself on being a good writer. My major is Public Relations, a writing based course, and I have spent some time writing short stories in the past.

However, this is the first time that I have taken a course specifically on creative writing and it shocked my system. Plot, description, detail… those were elements of writing that I felt comfortable with. However, character was an aspect that I struggled with deeply. Who are my character? Why are they friends? What do they want and does it make sense? Those were some questions that I was asked after my draft was turned it. I did not have an answer to them.

Therefore, I spent the next few weeks asking myself those questions. Who were my characters? Why were they friends? Who did they want to be? Why? What have they been through and how has that affected them? I would find myself going out for lunch, thinking “What would Alex order?”

This really pushed me to write one of my favorite scenes in my short story. After I fully understood my characters, I let them guide the scene and take it where they wanted it to go. In reading, the scene seems sudden and I wanted to explain it more. But, I trusted my characters and I followed their lead.

In the end, there are things that I wanted to change. However, through this creative writing course, I learned how to stop overthinking the writing process. I learned how to take one thing and let it explain itself. I’ve learned that there will always be enough writing material. I could spend 500 words, describing a fuzzy blanket if I wanted to. However, it’s taking the abundance of writing material, narrowing it down and then making it worthwhile.

My creative writing journey does not end at this course. I still have 6 weeks left in London and plan to explore my writing further. There’s something waiting to be written about in Hyde Park and it is calling my name.

Until then…

Tate Modern Exercises

Exercise #1:

Bakelite Robot, 2002 by Nam June Paik

Back and forth, back and forth. The rocking chair let out a small creek with each movement. The old man’s eyes begin to gently fall with each sway of the rocking chair. Nick watches his grandfather like a cheetah, ready to pounce on his prey. Soon enough, his grandfather’s eye lids seal shut and Nick makes a mad dash for the garage.

Nick flicks the light on in the garage. The light illuminates a massive, grim, concrete graveyard. It smells like thick, cloudy dust with a hint of mildew. Here, the garage holds all of his grandfather’s failed inventions. Small toy airlines with missing propellers, converted blenders, toasters and televisions fill the roomed.The garage was a playground that Nick had been eagerly waiting to explore. His grandfather never let him go inside the garage. He claimed it was too dangerous for a little boy. Therefore, this was Nick’s chance to investigative this mystery room.

Nick bravely enters the room of wonders. He grabs the first item in his sight. A small fire extinguisher with a light bulb attached to the head. He squeezes the release button of the fire extinguisher, awaiting magic. Nothing happens. The light bulb doesn’t glow or burst into a million beautiful stars. Instead, nothing happens.

Disappointed, he makes his way through the garage deeper. Getting lost in the abyss of his grandfather’s inventions, he keeps looking back at the garage door to ensure that it was still there. As he checks the door one more time, Nick trips and stumbles to the ground. He bangs his knee on the icy, cold ground of the ground.

“Ouch!” he exclaims, rubbing his knee.

“Are you okay?” responds an indistinguishable voice.

Nick stiffens and his heart begins to pound. He double checks that the garage door is still closed. He takes a 360 view of the garage. He doesn’t see anyone.

“Hello?” he shyly responds, out loud.

“Over here!” speaks the voice again

Nick ferociously searches through the boxes of inventions, kicking away random parts and bits. Under one of the boxes, Nick notices a glow. He pushes more parts away and sees a stack of red radios, glowing. As he digs further, he suddenly sits in awe. The glow becomes apparent.

“What is your name?” responds It.

“N…N…Nick” replies Nick, in shock.

“Hello Nick, I’m Tubi” it explains

Nick stares at the talking object in awe. It is a stack of old red radios, built like a robot. Six radios make up Tubi in total. One radio for the head, two radios for the arms, two radios for the legs and one radio for the stomach. The central radio is where the voice is coming from. Nick’s eye widen and he reaches out to touch Tubi.

“Oh! I’m very ticklish!” responds Tubi

Nick snaps his arm back and resorts to just staring at the creature.

“Did my grandfather make you?” asks Nick

“Yes, he did. He is a good friend.” says Tobi

“Why have I never seen you?”asks Nick

“I am not sure. But, I love making new friends. Will you be my new friend, Nick?” asks Tubi

“Why, of course!” replies Nick

All of Tubi’s dials begin to move with excitement and he glows even brighter.

“You make me happy” states Tubi

Suddenly, the garage door suddenly opens. Nick quickly turns around. His grandfather is standing in the door frame.

“Come on, Nick. Your mother is here to pick you up.” shouts his grandfather into the garage.

Nick turns back to Tubi. He is turned off and his glow has completely darkened. Nick rubs Tubi’s head.

“You make me happy too.” he responds, then scurries off to the door.

His grandfather closes the door behind him, with a smile on his face.

Week 10: Dublin

       

I cannot believe that I have survived this trip to Dublin, Ireland. It seems as if my entire university in the States, University of Southern California, decided to visit Dublin this weekend to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day. For the students who did not study abroad, this was their chance to live the “abroad lifestyle” for a weekend. Let’s just say… they really lived it up.

I spent my weekend with around 200 of my closest friends from back home. In actuality, I stayed with just six of my close friends from back home. However, the streets were lined with familiar faces.

Dublin is not the most aesthetically pleasing city. It’s grime, harsh and smells like way too Guinness. However, for St. Patrick’s Day weekend, it was the perfect mix of grudge and fun. As for sightseeing in Dublin, there were no standout monuments. Trinity College was a highlight for me though. When we visited, there were actual students on campus so it felt very collegiate. It made me miss my campus back home, actually.

The biggest highlight was outside of the city though. My friends and I signed up for an 8am all day tour to Cliffs of Moher and back. It was an adventure. First of all, the bus driver decided to sing original Irish folk songs for the entirety of the bus ride. After about 3 hours of his signing, the other tourists resorted to shouting “Be quiet, we’re trying to sleep”. I felt bad because he was trying to make the trip interesting and fun – the tourists were not impressed that early in the AM.

The best part about the tour was seeing the beautiful green Irish countryside and being at the Cliffs, themselves. They said that people jump off the cliffs all the time and I couldn’t imagine willingly wanting to jump from those cliffs. I could barely get close enough the edge for a picture. However, there were a sight to see. It’s moments like those that I feel almost a spiritual or religious connection. There must be something more to life if someone this massive and this beautiful can exist.

Overall, I probably will never visit Ireland again. However, for what it’s worth, friends, laughter, Irish folk songs, Guinness and amazing views, I would deem it a successful trip.

Week 9: Hyde Park

The heat soothed my face, as I glared towards the sun. Warmth!, I thought.

Saturday was a  peculiar day in London. Scarves, gloves and hats had found themselves neatly tucked away in dressers. Sunglasses, short sleeve tops and footballs found themselves heading to Hyde Park with the upmost excitement.

The weather predicted clear skies and a high of 60 degrees on a Saturday in March.

Everybody and their mother was in Hyde Park. The sun beamed onto the adoring faces of London and the sky was saturated with blue. However, there was a slight chill in the air to remind residents that this still was not the Caribbean.

Although bare and weathered, the trees gleamed with fruitfulness as the sun gently passed their branches. The grass appeared greener and more alive than yesterday.

It was either the gleaming sun or the vibrant people that brought the park to life on Saturday. The park was filled with chatter, bicycle bells, ducks quacking, children laughing, dogs barking and the almost silent lull of wind. It was a summer day in March. I could feel my Los Angeles itching to come through and grab my pair of  jean shorts.

If this was one warm day in March, I could not imagine a real summer day in London.

Week 8: Paris

 

 

Bonjour!  Je suis revenu de Paris. J’ai pratique mon francais. J’ai etudie le francais pendant trois ans. Je ne suis pas très bon au français. Mais, Paris est ma ville favorite.

I visited Paris this past weekend with my roommates, Kelsey and Katie, and our friend, Sean. In the very botched approach above, I was trying to explain that I had taken french for three years in high school and one year in university. However, my french skills are still very poor. However, Paris is one of my favorite cities that I have visited in Europe. I’ve been four times now. Two of those times, I visited with my father and my girlfriends. One of those times, I visited with an ex-boyfriend. This was my first time, planning my own trip and going with just friends.

We stayed an extremely nice hostel called Three Ducks Hostel. It was beautiful with a central courtyard, private bathroom and bar in the lobby. As for tourist sites, my roommates had never been so I went along for all the basics. We saw the Eiffel Tour, went on top of the Arc du Triomphe, visited the Notre Dame cathedral and of course, saw the very tiny, Mona Lisa. Even though, I’ve done this exact itinerary three times prior. Paris never seems to lose its charm.

However, the newest adventures to add to my Parisian itinerary would be actually visiting people that I knew. I had a chance to visit my old roommate who is studying in Paris and see a more local view of the city. Additionally, we took a self-guided Ernest Hemingway tour which was absolutely my favorite part of the trip.

My roommate read from one of Hemingway’s books and we followed his description of the city, street by street, as we walked through his neighborhood. It felt much more historical and cultural than any other tour that I’ve been on. Reading Hemingway’s exact words for the exact street that I was on… incredible.

I think that I will always go back to Paris. It will always have my heart.

Week 7: Expansion of Short Story Sentences

1. Ben turns his head and is greeted by those familiar yet piercing blue eyes of Alexander Willows: his best friend.

Ben breathes a sign of fresh air, as the familiar voice soothes his ear. He spins his head around and spots a tree-like boy, smiling from ear to ear. Alexander Willows’ piercing blue eyes are lit with excitement as he approaches. His face is lit by his piercing blue eyes and creasing smile. He leaps towards Ben, as if he were jumping hurdles in the Olympics.

2. The boys turn on Branford Street, an utterly uneventful suburban street, lined with similar brown houses and similar green gardens. 

Like clockwork, the boys turn onto the familiar road of Branford Street. Branford Street hums of nothingness, lawn mower engines and the occasional cat purr. The street is lined with brownstone houses forced together like mix-matched puzzle pieces. Neighbors exchange the occasional insincere wave and scurry inside their homes.

Week 6: Finally a Londoner

 

According to modern myth and some researchers somewhere, it takes 21 days to form a habit. I have been in London for 51 days.

This past weekend, I had family and friends fly into London for my 21st birthday. From coordinating train and underground routes to explaining a pound from a pence, I suddenly realized that London had become a habit. First, my best friend, Taylor, arrived from Tucson, Arizona, USA. Before she arrived, I typed her detailed directions on arriving from to my flat from Heathrow airport. I emphasized the importance of obtaining an Oyster card at the tube station. I explained how the Underground Jubilee line took her directly to my station, Bond Street. I waited for her at Bond Street because I did not have the patience to explain street directions.

The second to arrive was my sorority sister, Jacqueline, from Los Angeles, CA, USA. Jacqueline took my directions with a grain of salt. She ordered an Uber from Heathrow to my flat. What a waste of money, I thought. Public transportation offers cheap, easy and quick service from Heathrow. However, I remember that Jacqueline was just like me. An LA girl confused and lost in the main lines and stations of London’s transportation. I forgot what is was like to never take a bus, underground or train. Wow. London changed me.

The next set to arrive was my father. I restrained myself from giving him directions. He embraces the Los Angeles culture of driving everywhere as well. He found his way via black car to his hotel.

The last set of attendees to arrive was my friends studying abroad in European countries. However, originally based in Illinois, Kentucky and Louisiana, they flew in from Madrid and Budapest. They seemed more acclimated to the European lifestyle of hopping on and hopping off just about anything and everything. They took my detailed instructions with ease and surprised me by jumping on my bed at 8am.

Now that my entire “crew” was here, it was time to play tour guide. I showcased the highlights… Big Ben, London Eye, Buckingham Palace, Borough Market, Kensington Palace. By the time that Saturday rolled around, we had hit every major monument in London.

Come Saturday night… It was my time to shine. I was turning 21 at midnight (American style). Surrounded by my dearest friends and family, I danced and sang the night away at 3 different venues.

From Los Angeles to Madrid to Tucson to Budapest to London, it didn’t matter what city we were in. We were together and we were happy.

Week 5: Pleasure Gardens

Dark, curious, majestic and eery. There is a darkness about this type of luxury. The type of luxury that hides all secrets & identities. The birds chime but their songs are haunting & other worldly. The people float through the forest, black & unidentifiable. Their clothes provide identity and purpose for these floating bodies. Their hats are large, birdlike and wildly detailed. The dress is filled with somber, faded colors of maroon, pale pinks, grey and deep blues.

It is easy to get lost in the gardens. The foolish people are too occupied with their dress, class and appearance to worry about where they are. Some may even be stuck in the gardens forever. One could eat, drink and mingle for days, months, years and never notice the time pass. Always smiling, always talking, always dressed. To truly leave the gardens, you must return to your normal clothes & set down your glass. Well, that’s a truly hard task for anyone there. No one wants to be the first to let go of their image… so everyone stays. They stay and miss the world outside the gardens. They stay eating and drinking and mingling and smiling for what seems like an eternity…

Week 4: Short Story Exploration

The short story draft is due soon… Thus far, I have truly enjoyed the characters that were developed in the prose exercise. These characters were: Alex & Ben.

Alex felt damaged and deep. 17-18. Scorpio. Tall, lanky. Dirty blonde hair. Chiseled face, a sign of maturity. Although damaged, I feel as if he comes from a nice family. He may secretly be gay – however, that would never be exposed, expressed, hinted at or acted upon. Alex is struggling with something bigger than his addiction to cigarettes. I see him disliking his family or any type of form of normality. Normality scares him. Alex’s father is a dentist and his mother doesn’t work anymore. He has an older brother who went to Uni and a younger sister, who he is close with. His younger sister suspects that Alex is gay but would never/never speaks on it.

Ben. 16. Libra. Medium, build. Brown hair. Round face, a sign of boyhood and innocence. Ben is an only child. His parents are overprotective and have put him in main activities to keep him busy. Both his parents work. His dad is a tax attorney and  his mom works as a motivational speaker and part-time at his school administrative office. They recently moved into the city for his dad’s work. Ben plays for the football team at school. Ben has always followed the rules but craves adventure.

Alex & Ben are put in the group project together. For their sociology class, they must prepare a presentation on “Negative Influences of City Life” and decide to take this head on.

Week 3: Scotland

     

“It’s one of the most hauntingly beautiful places in the world” – JK Rowling

I couldn’t agree more. Edinburgh, Scotland took my breath away. From the vast, hilly, green landscapes to the dark, underground vaults, Edinburgh has its own spirit and identity.

Originally, I was not keen on visiting Edinburgh. With little knowledge of the city, I was hesitant to join my flatmates on the trip. However, I was amazed by the city. Edinburgh is dedicated to their history and stereotypes. Every tour guide, bartender and local expressed to us their love for the “dark, bloody” past of Edinburgh. Apparently, Edinburgh was the scene of many unsuccessful bloody battles. However, our tour guides used these facts to enhance the city and add life (or death) to Edinburgh.

If you could not tell from the JK Rowling quote, I am an avid Harry Potter fan. In fact, I am a member of the virtual Harry Potter experience website, Pottermore, and was sorted in the Ravenclaw House. Therefore, walking into the Elephant Cafe, I was in awe. The Elephant Cafe is where JK Rowling wrote the first Harry Potter novel. She wrote in the cafe because it was cheaper than writing in her home and leaving the heat on. In addition to seeing the birthplace of Harry Potter, I saw the tombstone that inspired ‘He Who Shall Not Be Named’. This poor tombstone in Greyfriar’s Graveyard is engraved with the name “Tom Riddle”, aka the name of lead villain Voldemort. I felt bad because our tour guide explained that people will spit on his grave, which I think is horrific. Regardless, it was amazing to see the inspiration behind such a notable character.

Advertisements and posters for “Ghost Tours” line the main road, the Royal Mile. I was very keen on going on the tour and convinced all my flatmates to go. Little did I know, our tour guides are VERY good at her job. We were taken to underground vaults where homeless people used to live. Our tour guide would speak rhythmically – almost like she was acting. I spent most of the tour, deep breathing into my friends’ arms. As scary as it was, it was a memory for life. I can now say I spent time with a poltergeist.

Edinburgh, you exceed my expectations. I wonder what adventures will come next…