So, I’ll admit it. I haven’t written for a while because I’ve been working on other writing projects. Isn’t that terrible? Its almost like I’ve been cheating on you.
What other writing projects, might you ask? First, my book. As I’ve said before I’ve begun putting together my ideas for a book. At this point, I have a pretty solid outline and a few thousand words. I need to now get back into the habit of writing x number of words every day so I can be done with enough time to self-publish before I apply to Stanford.
Second, I’ve started up a writers group at work. It’s a group of ~20 people that write in their free time. It spans from published authors to those like me who are just looking for other writers. I intend to bring the group together on a bi-monthly basis (every two weeks). Activities will range from writing exercises to critiquing each others work to sharing resources on the craft of writing and getting published. I’m excited about it for multiple reasons, but mainly I think it will be a good tool for holding myself accountable to my own writing.
Third, I’ve been going through and reviewing some of my older writing. While I’m trying to maintain my writing style as much as possible, I’m also being more deliberate in the person I am coming across as. Writing is very different from meeting me in person. I know that each of you would love me to pieces, but at the same time, tone/purpose are hard to convey via blog. Obviously this is a skill I need to hone as I believe my writing would be quiet boring without my awesome humor, but, alas, I am rethinking some of my sexual innuendos.
So, it’s a little bit harder to write a book than I thought it would be. I thought once I actually sat down with the intention to write that it would all come to me. I’ve known forever that I would be writing these memoirs, and have basically said them aloud to myself in their entirety. However, fingers to keys, not as easy. It is almost like I need to wait for the story to come to me, and when it does, it is basically awesomesauce. Waiting for it though? Lame sauce and a half. I need a muse!
So I started writing my book this evening. I have only 1000 words under my belt but I am already realizing what an emotional process this is going to be. As I recount times in my life that were hard, I suddenly feel those emotions rushing over me again. However, things are different today than they were back than. I’m in a better place in my life to be facing these trying times. I feel like I am approaching this with a new sense of clarity that will allow me to process things differently. Maybe now I will understand more, or, maybe even forgive. I’m definitely not there yet, but I’m hopeful for where this process will bring me.
So my manager just sent out an email saying there was cake up on the 16th floor. I ran up there (I even took some stairs) and when I get there, what do I find?! Cake without frosting. Blasphemy.
UPDATE: I still ate it, if that wasn’t obvious.
So I’m totally getting into this whole book writing thing, which isn’t a surprise. Most times I start something new I totally get into it. Hopefully it will last. There isn’t necessarily an exact science for how long the drive will stick around.
Last night and this morning I have been constructing my timeline. It’s basically an excel file with dates and events that have happened over my 24 years of life. As I’m going through all my old journals, I’m grateful for how little I’ve changed, but how much I have, too. I can definitely tell that it is me writing these words, like when I needed to stress the fact that I wasn’t being sarcastic even to myself. There are, however, many character elements I’m glad to have gotten rid of.
For one, I wasn’t all that nice. Which, obviously I feel bad about now, but still kind of half-chuckle/shake my head at the things I did and said. “So when he got back I kicked him and called him a jerk, then I felt bad. I love him so much.” I actually loved a lot at that age, which is silly enough alone.
Another favorite of mine is the goals list I wrote for myself in 7th grade. They are pretty awesome, so I’ll list “My Life Goals” out here:
- Go to Nowthen
- Win at least $100 in lottery
- Have 25 pairs of wearable jeans/pants
- Be crowned something at a dance
- Go to every state
- Have a daughter
- Be on TV (after age 13)
- Meet Jessica Alba
- Beat Super Mario all by myself
- Get at least 1 scholarship
- Have over a 4.0
- Have a date to prom and homecoming
- Have someone want me whom I don’t like
- Make out with someone at school
- Be on a jury
- Be on Jerry Springer
- Go to Dublin
Really Kate? Really? Some of those are fricken awesome and make me want to high-five my 13 year old self (9-11,17). Others make me wanna go back in time and slap myself (16?!).
On a similar note, I sent out a few emails last night asking for people to meet up with me and talk about the younger years (aka, my childhood). There are a lot of things that blur together that I want dates for, and maybe more context. Having someone else recollect will be helpful. This is going to be a really fun project!
So last night I had a dream about how bad my GMAT scores were and that I should probably retake them. This morning, I woke up with even more anxiety about getting into Business school, where I want to go, how to get in, etc. At work, I Google “How to get accepted to Stanford” and was directed to this blog: How to get accepted at Stanford or Harvard or how to get a job at Google or Facebook. It was almost like this blog was written for me, because obviously I’m the only cool kid with dreams of going to Stanford and being CEO of Google.
In the blog, it suggests doing something to stand out. One of the examples? Writing a blog. What’s bigger and better than writing a blog and something I’ve always wanted to do? Writing a book. So, I’ve decided that I am going to write a book. Before September specifically, because, well, applications are due in October.
For starters, I’m going to ask my friend Mollie to be my editor/guide/supporter. She is great at those things. I eluded to asking for a favor of some sorts on her Facebook wall, along with this link: Facebook Murals. If the idea of owning Kate stock sometime in the future doesn’t appeal to her, I don’t know what will. (And by Kate stock I mean a certain % of all book sales of course).
UPDATE: There is then of course stuff like this. People are awesome and inspiring and I love it.
So, one thing is clear from this past week. Sometimes I can be a negative Nancy by only focusing on the bad things. For example: I did pretty well on the GMAT, well above the “retake if below X” score I set for myself. I was also accepted to the Summer Booth Scholars Program that I had been really hoping for. Both of these are totally awesome things and I should be excited. I am excited.
However, the fact that I didn’t win the Mega Millions and I lost a bake-off at work are both over powering my mood, which should be happy considering everything! As for the bake-off, let me get something clear here. I wasn’t necessarily upset about not winning.. the cookies that won were really good. What upset me more was the aftermath/prize. It was a competition between all of the people in my program at work. The winner got to chose the presentation schedule for our end-of-rotation presentations in two weeks. I really really wanted to go first, or as close to it as possible. I get nervous sitting there thinking about my presentation for so long, and I think this is why I failed so miserably last time. Well, I am going pretty much last and I’m nervous about it. The person who won could have selected me to go first, but chose to draw names instead, to be more fair of course. Fair. My. Ass.
Alas, I should stop moping around. My life is pretty awesome, all things considered.
So, I fainted on the bus this morning. I’m reading Mentally Incontinent by Joe Peacock and this morning I read his recount of being aware during surgery. He had knee surgery and felt the entire thing, recapping the tugging on the ligaments, etc. Let’s just say that I have a very weak stomach for such things and I should have known better than to continue reading.
I faint all the time, like when I get my eye balls cut off and get blood drawn. I hadn’t actually fainted before from just talking about stuff, even though I have had to remove myself from certain conversations. My favorite memory of my queasiness was when my aunt was giving her cat an IV and I threw up my Cheerios. Anyway, it wasn’t necessarily a new phenomenon.
It happened gently too. I began getting really warm and uncomfortable and then I suddenly felt very tired. I couldn’t keep my eyes open and lied my head on the window for a bit. When I came to I ate some grapes, if only because they were nice and cool and I was boiling. I was fine by the time I got downtown though, I just went home to rest for a little bit more and tried to eat some breakfast.
If I had thrown up though, where would I have aimed it? I had my bag of work clothes, but I would have had to empty that first. The bus is just really not a convenient location to get sick.