Musings, Updates, and the Unclear Future

On a whim, I applied to CSUN's MA program. I had much encouragement from my professors and classmates. One--because I truly think that these people believed that I could succeed in grad school. Two--I still felt I had much to learn about my writing: the art, the literary value, and the theoretical approaches of it. I know many people think it's crazy, to go the same undergrad for grad, but I have only been at CSUN for two years and only spent about half the time truly concentrating on creative writing.

For me, this is simply a continuation. I will continue to grow as a writer in this time. Grad school will be a challenge, but I feel that it would be more on my level. I enjoy a challenge myself. I'm ambitious. In undergrad, I always liked to go the extra mile just so I could not only test my boundaries, but also so that I could set myself apart and show that I have merit. Something beyond the workshop story, but an actual literary and artistic piece that may be perhaps be a cut above, or a potential contender for greatness.

With that said, I am accepted as a conditionally classified student. I am enrolled in one class, but it's a 400-level undergrad creative writing class. O.o I haven't been able to register in any grad classes because (and here's why I mentioned I applied on a whim) I applied so late, so last minute that by the time I was able to register, all the classes were full. Now it is time to do the sit-in, beg, plead, and hope for an open spot somewhere.

In other news, I have had a short story accepted for publication. Tayo Literary Magazine is up-and-coming and is geared towards Filipino-American youth empowerment. I think it's great that this magazine coming up. It's great to read literature, see photos and artwork by Fil-Am youth. Somehow, I think that Filipinos in the arts are rarely highlighted. We exist. We are there. This magazine, though it is still fledgling, is a novel (no pun intended :P) idea because it showscases Filipinos in a way, that perhaps prior, we haven't been seen before. I'm proud of the beliefs of the editors of the magazine, what it stands for, what it is doing for the community.

In other editorial news, perhaps I've not mentioned this, but I am the co-head editor of CSUN's literary magazine, The Northridge Review for the Fall 2009 issue. We are nearly complete with the magazine, and are expecting to have a release early in the upcoming semester. :D

Now for the future. I'm not sure what will happen within these next two months. Two friends of mine have thrown a curveball into my life. They are going to Korea to teach English, as part of a special program. I'm excited for them and I want them to succeed, especially because not only is an excellent opportunity to travel, immerse into another culture, and on a humanitarian note, to teach children...but it's also a great alternative to being thrust into the capitalist real world that we call an economically faltering America. I won't lie and say to myself that I applied to grad school so that I could postpone diving into the real world because I couldn't find a job. (However, this is a topic I will further elaborate on, in terms of my longer-term future goals) I can't even get hired at Barnes & Noble, for crying out loud, despite the fact that my resume is looking pretty good now.

In any case, Myra and Jenny, are off to Korea within the next two months, and they will fulfill a year's contract to teach. They are two of my closest friends and I will miss them terribly.

And so they are persuading me to go to Korea and teach as well. -_-

Now this is going to be tricky. Stay tuned...

I'm Finished

Aha! My snobbery has faltered in these last few weeks, as I hadn't bothered to keep up the blog. This is mostly because last semester was immensely more exciting than this spring 2009 semester. Honestly, last semester I chased an unrequited crush, understood the importance and connection between literary theory and film, and wrote some of the best pieces of fiction that I had ever written in my entire life (up until that point, anyway).

The time has come to announce that I have finally graduated from college. I have that elusive baccalaureate degree (technically, in about four to six weeks, I'll have it!). The question that comes to pass is: "now what?" Shall I decorate my cardboard box to live in? A true artist would do so to stand out from all the other boxed artists lined up in our makeshift Hoovervilles bred from doe-eyed dream-chasing.

I chose to follow my passion. In these bleak contemporary mindset, which is quite often, mocking and cynical, some would question a student's sanity for even daring to go towards a direction that had no guarantees. What I see from that, rather, is character. If someone even has the gall to dare, then I applaud that person. This is a person who believes in passion, wants to shape him/herself into being well-rounded, one who yearns for artistic and/or intellectual pursuits, and wishes to experience the best of what life has to offer. Whether that be travel, helping and teaching others, entertaining, or to be daring for daring's sake, then that's beautiful.

Let us begin quickly with a short journey and what I have/have not accomplished. I am writing this mainly to humor myself, and so that I will have something to look back upon when I think of my last two years of college.

My first creative workshop at CSUN, which was approximately one year ago during a summer session, I had been grappling with the ideas and concepts of creative writing and the literary theory behind it. I didn't realize there were terms that writers needed to be conscious of. I just wrote and mimicked what I had read in books. I also visualized what I wanted to write, playing it through my mind like a scene in a movie that I would try to regurgitate in words. I hadn't realized that creative writing was much more than copying what authors wrote in books or trying to describe the movie in my mind. That, like anything, I had to break it down with fundamentals.

The professor said to us on the first day of class, "I want to unsettle you."

One of our first exercises was to write one sentence--only one--and begin building on it. It was called Burrowing. From the prof's assignment:

I had become a sentence-thinker, my whole process of writing transformed from a hard, weird struggle to describe a set of fixed ideas floating somewhere, as it seemed, inside my head, to one in which the ideas grew out of the writing in the moment of its coming into being. Charged by their own imperative and grace, they seemed to unfold as if out of the sentences themselves. This is not some literary mysticism. It is how language works, what it is.

WTF right? I was definitely un-freaking-settled the entire time in that class. She said the exact same thing I had written above (except more academic-y). This way of thinking about writing felt unconventional (yet seemingly natural and 100% conventional at the same time!). If you think about it, we do not have premeditated conversations planned in our head. When we interact with one another, or even when we think, we jump from one sentence or thought to the next. It's spontaneous.

So take one sentence. Here, I'll write one right now: She liked roses best, but only in the coldness of winter.

What should come next? Anything! And this lesson taught me how to truly write. When the words fall freely on the page, one after the other, in a completely mellifluous way, there is such rhythm and cadence that gives the writing a natural flow. Nothing will seem forced or contrived. If I never remembered another creative writing exercise, I will still always remember this one because it has shaped my writing for good.

Next sentence: The winter concealed her with its gray shadows.

Now the writer has raised all these questions. Why only roses? What's the significance of the gray shadows? Who's "she," and does she have a name? Thus, a story unfolds, easily placing layers and complexity into the narrative naturally, without trying too hard or forcing it.

So...what was the point in all of this? Well...basically, I was trying to brainstorm ideas for writing my Statement of Purpose for grad school, and it turned into this half-teaching, half-reminiscing session about one of the most awesome lessons ever learned while at CSUN. LOL. :)

Humanities Must Justify Their Worth?

In Tough Times, the Humanities Must Justify Their Worth

In this article from the New York Times, it is basically saying that because of today's economy, studies in humanities is seen as impractical because it concentrates on personal development, intellectualism, and forward-thinking. It doesn't prepare one for an actual job, like say engineering or medicine would.

At the end, the article says that humanities studies will soon be like it once was at the beginning of the 20th century: something only the wealthy priveleged will study.

This article is horrendously bleak. True: humanities studies do not prepare an individual specifically for an actual job in our society--a capitalist-based society where production and profit are valued. True: humanities is art--which never equals money in the pocket. True: humanities studies has no guarantees.

I call bullshit on the conclusion of the article: that only the wealthy priveleged will be the ones studying humanities. First of all, because of the huge surge in the middle class, and the blurring of the class divisions, we have, in America, rags-to-riches stories. Anyone can work from the bottom to the top if they so desire. Someone who has a degree in humanities, if they push themselves hard enough can become successful. It's the individual's responsibility to align themselves with success--if they so desire. Maybe some humanities students wouldn't mind living in a tool shed, surrounded by their philosophies, candles, and a crusty loaf of bread, so long as they have their books. You can't speak for every individual.

Secondly, even if (and this article smacks of dystopia for me) the humanities and liberal arts education were abolished and kept only for the rich--what kind of world do you envision? Something like in the film, Metropolis--workers, workers, and more workers? Orwellian dystopia? Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451 where books are burned? No creativity? No imagination? Stifled words. Our current president is an individualist, free-thinking, forward-thinking man.

I am simply saying that the outcome of humanities studies will not just be for the wealthy. It's not entirely impractical, but you will learn more about yourself and you will craft an identity through your knowledge. Everyone is a humanist at heart, anyhow. We are not unfeeling robots. I do not fear the death of humanities.

My Semester is Finir!

Yeah, I dropped off the map on here for a while...but for good reason. The last couple of weeks of the semester were pretty labor-intensive. But I'm finished now! I have only one semester left of college.

Next semester, I'll be in ENGL 412, which helps to produce the Northridge Review, a literary magazine, and ENGL 490, the senior seminar in narrative writing. I'm glad for the break--but there is that lingering thought in my mind that I want to go back to school, too. I somehow enjoy the work. :P

Movie Review: Smart People (2008)

Here's the basic jist of this film: We have a douchebag English professor (oh gee, I don't know what that is!), played by Dennis Quaid and his dysfunctional family. There's his neglected poetry-writing son (Ashton Holmes), his no-good adopted brother (Thomas Haden Church), and his overbearingly smart Republican daughter (Ellen Page, of Juno fame). Sarah Jessica Parker also contributes as the love interest of Dennis Quaid.

I have been craving offbeat, out-of-the-ordinary films because I find the mainstream blockbusters to just be terribly blasé and the same old clichéd shit. This is not to say that I don't enjoy them. I just search for something a little more cerebral, something to tickle my fancy.

So I wanted to like this movie, truly. There's an English professor, there's a lot of talk about literature, the guy's wife died, leaving a young daughter and a son, who are both messed up. It relates to me a on a personal level. The problem with this movie is that it really lacks substance. This movie fails to connect with its audience, even myself, who can relate to the premise of the film. Dennis Quaid's character, for lack of a better term, is an asshole from start to finish. He finds a love interest and that's the part of the movie where you see the character's evolution from ass to class. He never goes through that--he stays the same very unattractive person and only gains a fraction of heart through his love with Sarah Jessica Parker's character.

Another thing I had a problem with was Ellen Page's character. I've got to admit, I enjoyed watching her in Juno. She plays this character the same way she played Juno, with that smart tongue and know-it-all bravado. She's a conservative Republican and it is apparent that she is very scarred by her mother's death but hides it. She never does what she wants, always inhibits herself. By the end of the film, we see her wanting to break out of her self-imposed shell but still...we as an audience feel absolutely no sympathy for her. There is no character evolution.

Finally, the film itself is pretentious. The title, Smart People, suggests a very holier-than-thou attitude right off the bat. Yes, I picked up the movie because I was drawn to the holier-than-thou title, but like I said, I wanted to see smart people. These were not smart people. These were bland characters that spouted off intelligent words and phrases to sound smart. The writers liberally sprinkled the script with these "smart" words to make it stand out but it fails miserably because it sounds so forced and unnatural.

Like I said, I wanted to like this movie. The soundtrack fit the scenes well and sounded solid, like Juno's soundtrack. So if you're thinking, "well it's an indie film. Of course it's not going to be all roses and candy." A successful story has to relate to the audience, it has to stir the audience to elicit sympathy or some type of emotion, be it fear, happiness, love, sadness, whatever it is. But it's such a slow-paced film, with nothing endearing that I have to give it a big thumbs down. Now I kind of feel like watching Juno.