Archive | September, 2014

Thoughts on a Plane: YYZ to YVR

29 Sep

This past year and a half, I’ve done a lot of travelling. And second only to the toilet, an airplane is a great place to have deep and profound thoughts. Ladies and gentleman, may I present, Thoughts on a Plane

YVR

YVR

I should get really good at poker

I should watch Archer.

I should colour my hair. Go lighter. Cuz YOLO. And danger zone.

I should stop eating so many cookies and muffins. Ugh, I’m so fat. It’s gonna be like so hard to lose 5 lbs.

When I get off this plane I’m totes doing some lunges and pushups. Yep. Gonna do me some ‘shups.

You know how when you don’t want to be picked up and then you just make yourself super heavy? How do you do that? How do you make yourself heavy, and then make yourself light again? HOW ARE YOU CHANGING THE WEIGHT OF AN OBJECT WITHOUT CHANGING THE OBJECT ITSELF? OR IS THE OBJECT ACTUALLY CHANGING? OMG I’M FREAKING OUT RIGHT NOW…

..You probably just contract your muscles or something. Whatever, I’m over it.

This is the worst coffee I’ve ever had *barfing noise*

*Resumes drinking coffee*

That’s a cool cloud.

OMG I’m having heart palpitations, I need to stop looking out this window.

If I was ejected from the plane, I would use my sweater as a parachute. I could possibly survive. DANGER ZONE!

It is so freaking cold in here! You know what they should invent? A shower that people go into when they’re cold. But instead of it spitting out hot water, it would spit out hot air that would feel like water. But it’s not water, it’s air. Hot air. That would be so good for the environment. Vancouver is so inspiring with all of their environmental friendliness.

I should probably study for my French exam. Merde!

*Nap*

Wait. Isn’t an air shower just a heater? Fuck.

Thoughts on a Plane: YYZ to LAX

14 Sep

This past year and a half, I’ve done a lot of travelling. And second only to the toilet, an airplane is a great place to have deep and profound thoughts. Ladies and gentleman, may I present, Thoughts on a Plane

US-CRIME-SHOOTING-AIRPORT

I can’t believe I’m going to a writer’s conference.

Did I pack enough underwear?

I’m about to watch this film about Coco Chanel in French because I’m so pretentious and want to practice French for when I go to Paris in two weeks. Ugh, I’m so refined.

Never mind, they’re totes speaking English. It’s ok still refined.

Ok some is in French. I think. I don’t really understand what they’re saying. Shit, I don’t speak French.

Ooo radio. I’m gonna listen to some classical. Gosh, what’s wrong with me? Why am I being such a hipster?

Ahhh never mind classical makes me feel like I’m in a horror movie!

Okay, bye, taking a nap.

Fin.

Why I Write: A Minuscule Revelation

11 Sep

I attended the Writer’s Digest Novel Writing Conference this summer in Los Angeles in an attempt to solidify this whole “taking writing seriously” thing. I am paradoxically energized and exhausted.

conference

When I first learned about the conference on Twitter I got a rush of excitement, which, in retrospect, is surprising because I’ve never been a fan of conferences. My excitement came from a deeply anchored passion for story telling that I’ve never been able to explain or fully understand, but I knew was always there.

So I charged my Visa and dug out my bikini.

The first day was high-energy and got me pumped up to the point that I wanted to stand up and cheer and fist bump everyone in my row. The second day was long, and jam-packed with great talks, and the third brought me to the brink of the Informed-Catatonic Zombie threshold for information retention.

One of the many talks that really resonated with me was by David Morrell, writer of First Blood (the book that later lead to the Rambo movie franchise). Morrell spoke about finding and cultivating your voice; a practice that requires you to explore the reasons why you write in the first place.

Morrell, for example, is motivated by fear. He has vivid memories of being a scared child, hiding under the bed from the dangers beyond his bedroom door. Fear is what he knows best, and he channels this into his writing by creating fearless and memorable heroes. By acknowledging this, he has been able to strengthen his voice.

So what’s my voice? What am I motivated by?

When I first posed this question to myself in that conference hall, I had no idea.

Why do I write?

Is it because I admire what other writers can achieve and I want to emulate them?

I don’t think so, I mean I barely read.

Is it because I want to be a leader in changing the world?

No, I have minor stage fright.

Is it because I want to be a New York Times Bestselling Author?

That would be nice, but if I really wanted that I would be working on the next 50 Shades of Grey.

Do I have something to say?

I usually do, yeah. But I don’t always say what I’m feeling aloud. I guess I just want to be heard, to be validated. I want for people to take the time to remember my name. I want to be able to express myself.

Please get my name right. Please.

Please get my name right. Please.

Deep down I just want to be freed, to be immortalized through words.

I’m so narcissistic.