A Sneak Preview

Here's an excerpt from my story. Still untitled. I only have about two pages written so far, but it's coming along.

There was a dull fluttering against the window. A moth was caught between the screen and the glass, and was desperately trying to push through to the light within the hospital. Ted paused at his task for a moment to watch its struggle, letting the bedpan slide back beneath the foamy surface of the water with a clatter.

From above, the wail of an ambulance siren suddenly pierced the quiet kitchen. Ted returned to his work, knowing that if another patient was being brought in, his help may be needed soon. Sure enough, someone pounded downstairs a few minutes later.

It was Ray, out of breath, black hair sticking up in haphazard tufts, and right arm dangling. Ray had been born with a twisted, useless right arm. He normally hid it in a sling tied about his shoulder, but when he was sent on errands for Dr. Paget, Ray often became so excited that he forgot about the arm and let it hang by his side like a scrawny loaf of bread.

“Ted, Ted!” Ray was panting heavily. “They just brought a gal in. She’s real bad-pneumonia. Dr. Paget wants you straight away!” He said in a broken rush.

Ted wiped his hands on his pants as he followed Ray back up the stairs and into the sterile white hallways of the ward.

In Which Holly Writes About Writing (How Unique!)

I just started writing a story today...it's historical fiction (as many good stories are), and concerns eugenics.
What is eugenics?
a. You don't really want to know
b. Okay, ready?
c. It's basically when you decide to 'purify' the human race by eliminating any undesirable traits/genes such as:
1. Certain skin colors
2. Mental Disabilities
3. Conditions such as epilepsy, blindness, or deafness
4. Insanity
5. Criminal Tendencies (because evidently they're genetic)
6. Pretty much anything you can think of that someone somewhere may consider to be 'undesirable'
d. Is it as horrid, disgusting, and wrong as it sounds? Yes.
e. Prime example: The Holocaust
f. In the United States, eugenics even became legal for a few decades in some states (darn that Indiana), and expanded to include compulsory sterilization.
g. Compulsory sterilization is what it sounds like. When you make someone unable to have children just because you don't want their undesirable genes (see above) passed on to future generations. And it wasn't voluntary, folks, needless to say. They even did it to some African American and Native American women without them knowing it. They would go to the hospital to have a baby and come out unable to have any more, thanks to a few choice doctors.
h. Supporters of eugenics? Woodrow Wilson, Alexander Graham Bell, Teddy Roosevelt, and Adolf Hitler, to name a few.

Why did I choose this disgusting topic for a story? Because horrid as it is, I find it fascinating that so few people know that this went on. I mean, everyone's heard of the Holocaust, but hardly anyone realizes that something identical went on in America for decades.

My story is about a teenager named Ted Graham who volunteers at a hospital in Indiana, hoping to become a doctor some day. He befriends a young African American woman who is in the hospital for an illness (I'm thinking pneumonia). Ted accidently discovers compulsory sterilization and realizes that they are about to perform it on his new friend. I'm thinking he'll try to save her, though not sure how far he'll go (fight the system, or just take her and run?) Oh yes, and they also fall in love. I'm setting it in 1908, a year after eugenics became legal in the state of Indiana. This one will require quite a bit of research, but I'm excited about it.

* In case you didn't catch it, I named my main character after two big supporters of eugenics: Theodore Roosevelt, and Alexander Graham Bell. Hoping to do something similar for the girl. I love ironic names.

The Easy Way Out (Not That One)

Yes, I'm back to lists. But this one should be a bit more interesting than 'things I did today' (not to say, of course that I won't use that one again).

I recently wrote a Science fiction story just for fun, and to experiment with a different genre. But I noticed a few things about my writing process and about writing in general. I mean, what happened to being able to crank out a poem in about five minutes? Everything rhymes...cheesy title...big embellished signature at the bottom...done! Things have definitely gotten a bit more complicated.

THINGS I KNOW ABOUT WRITING:
1. It's almost impossible to write a story in one sitting. Sometimes (actually, most of the time), it's necessary to walk away, do something else for a few hours, and come back with a fresh perspective.

2. Criticism stinks. It's really horrible to have someone else telling you what's bad about your piece. But you know what? It honestly, truly works. And as a matter of fact, deep down, you already knew what was wrong without being told.

3. No one will love your story if you don't love your story. Don't ever send something out that you don't have complete faith in.

4. Science fiction isn't excruciatingly boring (all of the time).

5. I've heard people say that you should never write what you know. I would say always write what you know. Include any and all personal experiences, friends, pets, names, quotes, random stories...It makes everything seem more realistic.

6. Write about what you want to write about, not what someone else wants to hear. Unless of course it's a school assignment. Then I would say do what you're told.

7. Write something you would want to read. Endless descriptions may be a blast to write, but no one want to slog though that while reading.

8. Write everyday. No matter what. Even if it's just a journal entry or a one paragraph description or a haiku. Write something. And keep it all.

That's all. Sorry if I sound really patronizing, but I'm not trying to preach. I've just recently had a sort of epiphany and I wanted to share it. Also, everything on the list is personal. I think that writing is different for every single person. There is no such thing as 'method writing.'

That's all once again. Good night.

Remember Me? No? Darn it.

Hey remember me? The one who used to blog fairly regularly but hasn't updated in about three months? I hope it sounds familiar.

Well, I'm back. Not to blog right now, unfortunately. No time right now. But just to say that I am alive and well and will be writing very, very soon.

I promise.

And Now, in Other News...

This week:
1. Band concert Monday. I have a solo in Symphony that I tend to go out of tune on, so hopefully that goes well. Maybe if I play really, really loudly...

2. Work. Always, always work. I like my job, though, so no worries.

3. Friday is senior skip day. I'm skipping, but I have a valid excuse. I'm going up to Morris to register for classes. I also have to take math and spanish placement exams. Ick.

I think that's all. Just preparing for graduation in general.

Because I'm Sick of It

This is how I feel when people tease me about the relationship I'm in right now:
1. Really, really angry

This is why I feel angry:
1. I have every right to be in a relationship
2. Why is it anyone's business, anyway?
3. Because it's the worst feeling in the world to walk through the halls and feel like everyone's staring at you

I'm dating Charlie because I want to. I like him, he likes me, so we're going out. I realize that the age difference is a little unorthodox, but what does age matter in the end? Demi and Ashton make it work.

I know that a lot of people who tease me don't realize that it's not funny to me, or that it's embarassing, but still. I'm just sick of it. This is kind of the first real relationship I've been in, and things are awkward enough without other people adding to the heap.

This has been a rant, I know. But everyone warrants a rant now and then. Five a month is the suggested amount, I believe.

A Gem From the AP Test

Whilst taking the AP English Lit. test today, I discovered this poem in the multiple choice section. It gave me the strength to continue, to pick up my pencil once more and struggle onward into the void of literary devices and essay questions...

The Imaginary Iceberg
By Elizabeth Bishop

We'd rather have the iceberg than the ship,
although it meant the end of travel.
Although it stood stock-still like cloudy rock
and all the sea were moving marble.
We'd rather have the iceberg than the ship;
we'd rather own this breathing plain of snow
though the ship's sails were laid upon the sea
as the snow lies undissolved upon the water.
O solemn, floating field,
are you aware an iceberg takes repose
with you, and when it wakes may pasture on your snows?

This is a scene a sailor'd give his eyes for.
The ship's ignored. The iceberg rises
and sinks again; its glassy pinnacles
correct elliptics in the sky.
This is a scene where he who treads the boards
is artlessly rhetorical. The curtain
is light enough to rise on finest ropes
that airy twists of snow provide.
The wits of these white peaks
spar with the sun. Its weight the iceberg dares
upon a shifting stage and stands and stares.

The iceberg cuts its facets from within.
Like jewelry from a grave
it saves itself perpetually and adorns
only itself, perhaps the snows
which so surprise us lying on the sea.
Good-bye, we say, good-bye, the ship steers off
where waves give in to one another's waves
and clouds run in a warmer sky.
Icebergs behoove the soul
(both being self-made from elements least visible)
to see them so: fleshed, fair, erected indivisible.