the television set

I'm currently curled up on the couch with my mom, spending the evening of my last day of grade nine watching The TV Set, a movie we got at the video store for $8. I've only been watching bits and pieces because I'm catching up on some blogs. Anyways, of all I've seen, I have a few things to say.

I hate all these fucking fake Hollywood people! None of the people in the movie are cliche actress diva types, or anything, the producers are just so... awful! They want the TV show to be funny not sad. The main producer, a woman named Lenny, even says something along the lines of, "Originality scares me. You don't want to be too original."

I also wanted to say that I'm so unbelievably glad that all of the people I've met so far on this crazy writing journey I've embarked on are real.

They speak their minds, their critiques are harsh but genuinely honest. Blogs I follow and work I read... It's all so wonderful and original and sparks all sort of crazy ideas--mainly, God, I wish I wrote that! All the questions people are asking on forums are well phrased and the answers are thorough and helpful.

My friend K (also known as Akina-Hana over at Burning Autumn) was telling me about something in Japan--I can't remember the name--where people show one side of their emotions and actually feel another. She was talking about it in the way where if someone is talking to you and you're totally tired or stressed, you still smile. Honestly, I wish more people said what they thought. It can be annoying at times, but be yourself. And don't be cheesy. God knows cheese has nothing to do with this, besides the munching kind :)

They just mentioned Gilmore Girls on the the movie. That makes me so happy!

By the way, besides my brief movie rant, I just finished ninth grade. It doesn't even sound like an achievement, does it? Ninth grade (by the way, I've discovered that when you reach a certain age you start calling it ninth grade--before then it's always grade nine. I'm growing up), big whoop.

Anyway, I'm happy being slightly older, the tiniest bit wiser, and a whole lot happier now that exams and homework are gone for the summer. Two and a half glorious months.

I'm sad, though. I'm sad that I won't see my older friends for a year, if at all. I'm sad that my yearbook signatures are the most I'll see of some of my friends for the next two months.
A word of advice, courtesy of The TV Set. Never sell out. Never back down. Stand up for your self and your work. Be brave, be bold, be original.

All that matters is what goes in between.

I just realized that I am a stereotypical yearbook signature. I am what you write when you don't really know the person and you just want them to go away and take their silly yearbook with them because you know you won't remember them even when you skim their photo years later. But guess what? I actually mean it:

Have a great summer. Don't ever change.

Love,
Erika

my first ever award... ever!

Soundtrack: Happily Ever After by He Is We (where can I download this song?!)
Words: Bah, same as yesterday. I have exams, I swear!

Today is a bright and shiny day. Know what else is bright and shiny? Oh yes, awards :)

I just got my first ever award, from Caitlin over at Caitlin Darrell: A (Sort-of) Life. She is very nice and very awesome and I'd like to thank her for being so supportive in her comments and award-giving (because that is obviously a verb).


There is is, in all of it's snazzy, green, FIRST EVER AWARD glory. It makes me so happy--so happy I must continue to use these annoying smileys :) :) :) Glad I have that out of my system.

Like any organized society, this award comes with responsibility (psh) and RULES:

1. Thank and link back to the person who gave you this award.
2. Share 7 things about yourself.
3. Pass the award along to 15 bloggers who you have recently discovered and who you think are fantastic for whatever reason! (In no particular order...)
4. Contact the bloggers you've picked and let them know about the award.

So, as if any of you actually wanted to here more about me, Seven Things About Moi:

1. I love bread. I know it might not be the healthiest thing to love but my mom and I are constantly buying shmancy breads, slathering them in butter and pigging out, ha ha.
2. There's a drum set sitting in my bathroom. I've always wanted to play the drums and this one was at a garage sale, so we bought it. My mom's house is tiny, though, so we put it in the wheelchair accessible shower part of the bathroom. It will soon be moving to the garage, though, for some serious head banging.
3. I have one older brother who is basically the bee's knees.
4. I love out of date expressions like "the bees knees" and "don't raz my berries, man."
5. I wish I was a dancer. I often randomly break out into dance in my room. And singing, but honestly, no one wants to hear that.
   
6. Dr. Who = love. No questions asked. Sci-fi, totally random plots, cute Doctor, British accents, what more could you ask for? Speaking of which, it's on in about five minutes...
   
7. I LOVE science. I know I'm a major nerd but science always makes me smile--learning new concepts and suddenly having things click. I don't think I could ever be a scientist, though. Too boring.

Awards for everyone! Or, at least, the following fifteen people:

1. Kristy at This Train of Thought has Been Derailed
2. Hannah Moskowitz at Invincible Summer
3. Akina-Hana at Burning Wisdom from the Uniform of Autumn
4. Kara at Moomurs
5. B. Light at Writing by Night Light
6. Everyone over at Writer Unboxed
7. Roni at Fiction Groupie

I know that it's only seven rather than fifteen, but I honestly don't have the time to properly follow blogs! That, and I seriously suck at finding good blogs. Another pathetic thing to add to my list about me, perhaps?

If you can suggest an awesome blog then please leave it in the comments! Thanks again, Caitlin!

Love,
Erika

teaser tuesday

Soundtrack: Rebellion (Lies) by Arcade Fire
Words: 13 333 <-freaky number! And yes, I have been slacking...

A short story I wrote for this month's issue of our school magazine. It's name is "Water Girl" (working title. It's kind of lame and oh-so-much lamer once you actually read it).

My chalked feet tense on the taut rope—the only thing that stands between me and the ground, a hundred metres below—as I peer over my curled toes and swallow hard. There’s a children’s wading pool, stands full of people and me.

“Introducing...” Oswald, the chubby ringmaster, begins with a flourish. A pre-recorded drum roll comes over the speakers and a spot light dances around the tent before it fixes on me. I squint in the bright light but flash a winning grin at the audience. “Marina the Water Girl!”

I wave and smile, gritting my teeth. Relax, Marina, I take a deep breath, no one wants to see a girl jump off of a tightrope and almost land in a pool. If they wanted to, I bet there’s something on the internet. Some blooper reel set up just to poke fun at people like me.

My old biology teacher, Mr Temple, used to say, “Humans are sixty percent water and forty percent ignorance.”

The other kids would sneer or scoff, but not me. Mr Temple and I always ate lunch together at the collapsible table attached to the Strong Man’s trailer, away from the other kids. We sat in silence, content in each other’s company. “Sure glad I’m not a human,” I said once, through a big bite of turkey sandwich, when I was feeling particularly bold.

“Me too,” his eyes twinkled and he took a swig from the little thermos that he always kept on hand

The other kids used to make fun of Mr Temple for his long white hair, half moon glasses and tie-dye tee shirts. They said that he was a hippie, said his thermos was full of booze and he wasn’t a real teacher. There were wrong about the last one, though. Mr Temple was the best teacher I’ve ever had.

He left the circus last summer because all of the travel was getting to him. Apparently he wanted to spend more time with his family but no one knew who exactly his family was. It was hard to imagine that Mr Temple had actually come from somewhere. That’s what he told the rest of the class, anyway. On his last day, he ate lunch with me.

“Guess I’ll be seeing you, water girl,” he said with a smile.

“I hate when people call me that,” I scowled.

Mr Temple nodded sagely. “That’s why I have to go,” he replied. “All you freaks—you’re not really freaks, are you?”

He looked like he wanted an answer, so I shook my head and he laughed. “Well, maybe sometimes, but we all are. You know what, Marina? You’re most normal person here.” That's the first time anyone's ever called me normal.

I imagine Mr Temple in the stands, cheering me on. Or maybe he’s covering his eyes, crossing his fingers for me. I’ve done this stunt a thousand times, and my mother a thousand times before that. She was the original Water Girl—called Aqualine by the ring master even though her real name was Isobel. I don’t know what my real name is, if I have one. Marina could be just another gimmick but for now it’s what I answer to.

Oswald touches his nose, my signal to get a move on. I bend my knees and dive into the air. I watch my mark—a little red dot painted dead center of the pool. If I miss by even a fraction of an inch, I’m gone. Despite years of practice, I can’t calm my nerves. My heart jumps around in my chest, rattling against my ribs, threatening to break free and kill me here and now.

I’m in the air for less than ten seconds but in that time I can feel the crowd hold its breath. My turquoise tights and dark blue body suit ripple as I careen downward—the white ribbons Oswald insisted on braiding into my dark hair catch the breeze and for a moment I pretend that I’m more bird than fish.

The crowd roars when I land with barely a splash. I could tell you that it’s all smoke and mirrors and bungee cords, but when you get down to it it’s mostly guts, stupidity and a firm assurance that the tiny wading pool is my only option.

But next time, maybe just a millimetre to the left would be the better choice.

Hope you like it!

Love,
Erika

happy endings

Eek! Desperately scrambling to get the last issue of our school's zine, ARROW, out by tomorrow. The last week of school can be so crazy--and I don't even have to deal with big, scary, provincial exams this year.

In the meantime, I've been wondering about what I should bring with me to PenWriters this summer. It's a five day youth writing camp that my friend and I are going to in Penticton, BC. The guest speaker is Meg Tilly--my friend and I are going to watch Fame for some research material because, sadly, I am part of the ignorant 5% of our population that has yet to watch Fame.

Anyways, by what to bring I don't actually mean that clothes-wise. I'm more concerned with whether I should bring a book of poems, a rough first draft or a novel or a short story. I'm pretty much convinced that all of the other 13-18 years olds there will be wildly talented and otherwise genius, so, luckily, today I finished a short story without even realizing it. And I'm pretty proud of myself because finishing things has never been my forte.

In fact, endings in general are just plain suckish. Especially considering I usually give up on a story before I get to the ending, so I don't have to worry about flailing loose ends. An ending means it's over, though. And I've got to admit, I'm still a sucker for happily ever after :)

In other news, you should definitely check out theoatmeal.com and you should definitely take some of their quizzes. I have to admit that, for a dark period in the middle of the summer of grade seven, I spent countless hours hiding in my room, taking ridiculous personality quizzes. Those were more of the Which Harry Potter character is your soul mate? variety, though.

I'm overjoyed that theoatmeal.com has a quiz entitled, "How Many Justin Biebers Could You Take in a Fight?" Now I will finally know.

Love,
Erika

PS: The results are in: I could take 21 Biebers in a fight! Yes! I must say that, although in conception using torn off body parts as weapons might make sense, I'm not sure if I could go through with it in real life, so the total may border on fraudulent. Whatever. I'm on to discover, "Are Your Loved Ones Plotting to Eat You?"

forgiven

It's raining outside and I'm watching Mansfield Park while doing some homework. Huh, it almost sounds... poetic.

Wow, what a dreadful transition! Anyways, the poetry party last night was positively smashing. We had about 15 people show up and all but one read a poem. It was a much better turn out than we'd ever imagined, so right now I'm pretty happy :)

Here's the poem I read, unofficially titled "Walking Away":

The sun never really goes down
He tells me, glasses propped on hooked nose like a bird on a telephone wire
It’s just an illusion
Made by the earth turning.
I kick a rock across the street
And know I’m just passive aggressive
But that’s what he gets for being progressive.
What do you want me to do about it?
It’s not a threat
Just a threatening statement
And we clench our fists like warriors in some unspoken battle
Because the difference is too fine to spot.
I want you to know.
And I want you to know how hopeless you make me feel
Like every day is a new disaster.
If the sun never goes down
Then it never comes up
And that leaves us in this stupid in between
That makes me want to pull out my hair and
Curse every hour in the day and every letter in your name just so there can be an ending.
If we spin fast enough, could we turn the earth back on its axis?
He wonders out loud.
Could we buy ourselves an hour—a day?
Or, I interrupt, would we just make ourselves dizzy.
He turns on his heel, a perfect silhouette
Of someone I just haven’t met.
Gravel crunches under his feet—like fallen leaves or hardened snow—because, night or day,
Every season has a different sound for walking away.

So what do you think?

Another person at the Poetry Party was Janine, aka Ninemenonrocks. She's an amazing poet, and let's just say I'm glad I didn't have to follow her! She read "If You Are Innocent" and "Donnie, She's Gone".

It was an awesome night and I'm so glad that it went so well. Yay for happy endings--Fanny and Edmund are together at last (and we can all try to forget that they're cousins--yuck!).

Love,
Erika

zomg.

MY LINKS ARE PINK!

SQUEE!

<3

new look, same heart

soundtrack: Say it to Me Now by Glen Hansard (Once soundtrack)
word count: 11 726

Do you notice anything... different about me?

Oh, what could it be, Erika's blog? Did you get a hair cut?

Psh, no. I've recently discovered the infinite joys of customized templates! This pretty little number comes courtesy of Gisele Jaquenod and Birdie. If you're looking for your own template, Yummy Lolly also has some cool stuff. I apologize that both sites offer mostly cute, happy, in-some-cases dessert themed templates. You'll just have to learn to live with that, now won't you?

So besides the new look, I want to give a massive shout out to Absolute Write. The writers there are so inspirational, helpful, kind and welcoming. And hey, a few of them are even published. You can literally hang out in the forums, talking to published authors. Sorry, I'm such a geek that that is still blowing my mind.

I'm thinking it's in part--if not mostly--due to AW that I have six followers at this time. It's a crazy huge gigantic deal to me. Thank you (yes, YOU!) so much for reading my blog, following it, and not posting creepy comments about what will happen to me at 11:11 pm if I don't obey. It means a lot.

A few weeks ago, I made a "To Do Before I Graduate" list. It's like "To Do Before I Die" but a bit less morbid. One of the things on it, which I know I can't really control, is to have ten followers. Just wanted you to know how much you mean to me. Sixty percent capacity--alright! ;)

In other news, this totally made my day. I have to admit that I'm a little disappointed that a vampire of all things got the top spot. They're taking all the best ghoulish titles away from my kraken buddies.

The times they are a-changing. That's Bob Dylan, isn't it? We bought my dad a t-shirt that said that for his birthday last year. It feels particularly pertinent now, with just over a week of school left before summer break (whoop, whoop!).

Got any big summer plans? We could go to a beach so I can show off my pasty white, I-stay-inside-writing skin. Good plan, yes?

Love,
Erika