Road to Hackers
I finished the rewrites on my novel at around 11 last night. I’m sure I’ll have more work to do once my thesis advisors are done with the manuscript, but for now, I feel like it’s a book I would pay to read. Right now is not the best time to look for a publishing contract, but I’m optimistic. I’ll be defending sometime in March.
Currently on my way to Shmoocon, a hacker convention in DC. Matt is giving a talk tomorrow on atracking a business (legally) using radios. Won’t be posting until I get home because all the nearby wireless networks will likely be hacked, just waiting for suckers.
Writing is Weird
Yesterday I edited approximately 130 pages of my novel. This is good, since I was getting a little worried about finishing by the end of the week (my new fake deadline) but it’s also sort of weird.
The day before that, feeling like I put in about the same effort, I edited about 30 pages. In fact I always feel like I’ve made leaps and flights of progress only to discover I’ve only managed a chapter or two. It seems strange that movement can be so unpredictable.
Some of it might just be attitude, or more accurately, momentum. Today I hit a good stride, so I was excited to get BACK to work each time I stopped for a break. I went into editing fast and easily.
Still, that’s a pretty big gap. I think another part, the large part, of the difference comes from the makeup of the novel itself. The beginning of the novel went more quickly than I expected, making me think the whole editing process wouldn’t be too much of an ordeal. Then it slogged along for ages. I edited over a third of the book TODAY.
That is much less odd when I look at the bits I was editing. The first few chapters, the parts I flew through first, were edited and re-edited every time I tried to write, because starting out, I needed to re-read everything to get a start. The absolute beginning was written last, after I had the whole story laid out before me. Likewise, the ending, the last third I edited today, was mostly written when I had a clear picture of my story to work from. I knew the details, the character motivations, the plot obviously, and the little tidbits I needed to throw in for consistancy. This was all automatic, and as I wrote, it let me focus more on the language.
So it’s not surprising that the middle was the rough part. The middle is what I wrote when I had only the fuzziest idea of what was happening. I had a story, but no actions, those I had to make up as I went along. Characters were developing, not developed. Details changed constantly.
I’m feeling good right now, not only because I’m fresh off a day of success, but because I LIKE it. I LIKE my novel. This sounds obvious, why would I write it if I didn’t like it, right? I keep thinking I’m sick of the damn thing, then I pick it up and realize I still love it. I get exhillerated when I come to the end, I’m moved by the lead up scenes in the middle. I’m drawn in by my own beggining. I hope this means it’s good, not that I’m just totally self absorbed.
I’m not quite done yet. Editing is finished, now I have a few scenes to add, to fill in the holes I realize I’ve left in the story. To make slower patches run better. To make it something people might want to read. Wish me luck.
*Images are from my BFA thesis at Notre Dame, drawn from the story before it was written. The whole series can be seen in my gallery.
Why I’m Not a Teacher
If any of you follow my occasional twitters, you might know that this weekend I filled in at the fencing club, teaching a couple youth classes. Officially, I coached for a year at Notre Dame (my second senior year: victory lap) and unofficially I coached a couple of my teammates as early as sophomore year. When I was in high school I lead footwork and gave lessons to beginners. Coaching ought to be right up my alley.
In fact, teaching in general ought to be an ideal career for me. I love kids, generally they like me, I’m good at keeping things interesting and good at explaining things. I’ve considered teaching middle school (my favorite age group) several times, but keep abandoning the idea. I’m currently in an MFA program rather than an MA program primarily because it’s a teaching degree, I could become a college professor. All signs point me to teaching, there’s just one reason I’ve never ended up in that career.
I don’t like it.
Now, I’ve never technically tried to teach in a classroom setting, but I’ve done enough coaching to know that it makes me terribly uncomfortable. The closest thing I’ve done in a class is oral presentations, and I LOATH them. This is kind of weird, because really I’m not your typical wallflower. I love to talk. I love to have people listen to me. I love to say smart things, or at least things that sound smart.
Somehow though, that all crumples away when I’m standing in front of people and expected to impart wisdom from some grander plan rather than spontaniously chiming in.
Maybe the key word here is plan. “Plan” is some amazing thing I never do, I always tell myself, this time, this time I’ll prepare, and I never do. Probably with class presentations this is the real reason I freak out so much. I always think I know enough to go up there and BS my way through it. Honestly? Usually I do. As much as I hate class presentations I’ve always done well on them.
Teaching fencing is much the same, I’m always terribly anxious on the inside, but I seem to do fine from the student or parent’s point of view. And with fencing I’ve actually tried to do some preparation. I’ve asked several coaches for lesson plans to start out with. My brother actually sat down with me once and wrote down what he does in a lesson, but it didn’t seem to stick to my brain. Another coach once gave me a DVD of several fencing lessons. It wouldn’t run.
It seems to work a little better when I plan on my own, when I sit down and think about the sort of things I ought to do. Except I rush. I come up with an hour’s worth of material for a half hour lesson and I’m through it in fifteen minutes.
Teaching I think is just not for me. I would however, make a good tutor.
When I think about the times I’ve been in a teaching position and actually felt good about the result, it’s always been more like tutoring. I sit down with someone and help them understand something they’ve already been taught. It’s less formal, less structured, and less pressure.
I’m not sure what that says about me. That I have all the traits of a good teacher but no spine for it? That I can’t hold my mind in enough control to do something important? For me, that’s the core of the problem. I really do think teaching is a horribly important, difficult job. If I thought I wouldn’t hate it, I’d do it in a heartbeat.
*Photos from Flickr users Caitlyn Willows and Kashmera.
Flawed Mind
Warning: this is the product of a flawed mind (mine). If you are viewing with small children, you should not read any further.
Ok, probably you don’t want to know, but I’m going to explain anyway. When I was a little kid I went to some lady’s house for day care for a while. She took care of maybe five kids total, and looking back she was a little… country. The kind of old lady who men dress up to be, who smells a little funny, who refused to pronounce my name correctly. She also liked to tell us stories for our own good. Like about exactly the effects of a brown recluse spider, in graphic detail. And balloons.
So she wanted to tell us how dangerous balloons are, and explained that they can get into your mouth, and will almost immediately slip down your windpipe, where they will not be removable by any method. Even if a doctor is in the room with you, they won’t be able to do a thing, and you’ll certainly die within seconds. Just being in the same room with a balloon is kinda risky. Thousands, maybe millions of children die this way every year, no, every day.
Needless to say, I didn’t like this lady very much, and looking back I think I have to attribute at least a few of my irrational fears to her. Including, obviously, my fear of balloons, which, while not as bad as it was when I was seven or so, still exists.
The last part of the comic was Matt‘s idea though, so fortunately, I’m not the only one with a warped mind. Hope you enjoyed it. As always, comments and critiques are welcome.