I’ve really worked myself into a whirlwind for November. First, I thought about signing up for NaNoWriMo, even though I’ve never written fiction in my life. (Just not that creative.) Then I find NaBloPoMo, which is exactly what I need. So I announce I’m not going to do NaNoWriMo, and my friend Natalie (a published novelist, I might add), shames me into it. Ok, the shaming was in jest, but still, I did feel responsible. :) So now I’ve started some half-assed attempt, but it’s really going to be crap. But at least I’ll be there to cheer Natalie and jade_kadir on.
I rented a Frankenstein movie to watch on Halloween. But by the time I’d finished rewatching True Blood (so I can write my review for SciFi Chicks) and Supernatural (except the final 2 scenes, which irritated me), and watched Life on Mars, it was relatively late. Still, I put the movie in the DVD player, and find the bloody thing is 3 hours long! (I think it must have been a television mini-series.) Out of all the Frankenstein movies available, I picked this one because it’s purported to be the closest to the book. Anyway, I didn’t watch any of the story last night, but started it this afternoon. Michael Sarrazin plays “the creature,” so it’s not very scary. At least not yet. I don’t know if it’ll become more frightful, since I’ve never read the book. Guess I’ll try to finish watching it tonight.
Well, my essay for this week about my grandfather is finished. Except for the printing &/or copying. (I need to find a place where I can copy the paper as I don’t really want to use up my printer ink spitting out 7 copies.) I had actually started the piece for last week’s assignment, but I couldn’t write anywhere near the 5 pages (doubles spaced) requested. But I decided to expand the scope of the essay and at one point had 7 pages. And there was still more I could have added. But I was able to pare it down to 5 pages, keeping the most interesting things.
My first essay was a big hit! The class and instructor had a few comments to improve it, which I haven’t incorporated yet. I plan to upload it here as a separate page, but haven’t done so yet. That would be a good project for this weekend. (And since it’s in Word, there will probably be a shit-load of fixes I need to make before it looks presentable.)
I don’t know that the class is helping me write more creatively; but then, I’ve only been to one class so far.  I still write like I talk, just a little more refined. However, the essays are helping expand my ideas of how to word certain phrases for high impact. And I’m using fewer prepositions. Now if I can just stop overusing and and but (& their synonyms) to start sentences, I might be on my way.
The site of the Arts Center where the class is held is in a hoppin’ section of Arlington. There are several trendy restaurants around the area; and since today is my birthday, perhaps I’ll try one before class. Or, I could just go to the Silver Diner, enjoy a classic burger, oldies music and a chocolate milkshake. Yummm.
I’m taking a writing class. The idea is to possibly write a memoir about my parents. I came to this conclusion after a heavy-duty session with my counselor. The impetus for it was the season finale of Supernatural. In it, one of the brothers sells his soul in order to bring his brother back to life. (Hey, the series is named Supernatural for a reason!) As selling brother says as he’s getting his ass reamed by the fabulous Bobby Singer, “At least maybe now my life can mean something.” To which Bobby says “And it didn’t before? Are you that screwed in the head?” (To which I always reply, “Yes, Bobby, he is.”)
This scene really affected me because I’ve often felt the same way. Why am I here? I haven’t procreated, I’m stuck in a job I don’t like, I’ve alienated a couple of great friends, my only brother and I are estranged, and I haven’t done any extra-curricular activities in several years.
Ever since my father died over 10 years ago, I’ve wanted to write about my parents. They were part of the “greatest generation.” The things they lived through as young adults, I can’t even fathom. And they were two of the best people I’ve ever known. (They weren’t necessarily the best parents, which is partly why I’m so screwed in the head, but they were wonderful people, and I’m so glad I got to know them as an adult.)
While I’m a fairly good writer, I’m not terribly creative. I’m hoping this class will help me tap into some part of my brain I haven’t used yet. Wish me luck. By the way, for my first assignment, I wrote about a trip I took last week to Fort Worth, Texas. You can read about it ad nauseum here. (Most of the posts on the first page relate the story. And I’ll be writing about it here, too, because it was just that awesome!) This week, I’m going to write about my grandfather, Sigel Overholt. Funny name, wonderful man.