Journal #14

So, yesterday in class, we workshopped the book I'm writing (both in general and for my thesis) and I was honestly surprised to figure out my writing had set out and accomplished what I wanted to convey through it. The introduction chapter confused people, but not alienated them, so they had a desire to read further which is what I hoped would happen. I kind of just wanted to drop the reader in the middle of this tent on the beach to reflect on how the MC felt. Everyone loved the male love interest as well which is what I was most hoping for. He's loosely based off my boyfriend and I wanted to do him justice no matter what it took. 

I also succeeded in sorting out my audience, which is nice. There's this one girl in class who always has something to harshly criticize about people's works even if it's not really a present issue. She's one of those high and mighty people who speaks with a cadence most adults typically reserve for elementary students on the cusp of middle school. So it delighted me very much that her suggestion was to "make the characters more likeable" so the audience could "root for them." The point I'm trying to make is that oftentimes, people and the relationships they cultivate are deeply complex and you have to make an effort to love them or to see where they're coming from. It's to exercise your empathy.

Going off of that, late last night when I told my boyfriend what went down, he laughed and said "People only love people who think like me when it's in fiction." And I had thought of that earlier, but not in depth and not really into a tangible phrase like that. I only know where he's coming from with this because I feel a similar way myself. I was a mess when he was away a couple years ago as I wasn't used to being alone for so long even in my last relationship. I was used to feeling lonely, sure, but being by myself simply amplified it. I took comfort in series like Watamote or Bocchi the Rock because people online would talk about how they loved anxious girls, but when it came to the reality of things, I found that being damaged and pitying yourself was no where near the correct way to make people like you. Besides, the romance genre is oversaturated with hunky men and conventionally attractive women who have a dark past but are otherwise completely perfect. I want to showcase a realistic relationship between two average people and how their drastically different worldviews can make or break things between them. That cookie-cutter booktok garbage is what other girls my age write about in class. It's got no soul and is about as well written/nuanced as a ten year old's fan fiction (Sorry, I feel like that's offensive to ten year old fanfic writers, I'm sure you write much better than them). 

I've still received nothing else from the creative writing club and since club meets for others have already started, I've given up all hope which is a damn shame. I was looking forward to networking and making new acquaintances (not friends, I'm hopeful not delusional). I was also looking forward to receiving feedback on my book's rough draft as I worked on it chapter by chapter. Alas, it seems like such a wonderful thing wasn't in the cards for me. Perhaps it was the universe's way of a tradeoff. A sort of trolly problem if you will: A club of randoms in exchange for an official relationship. If that was the reason behind the universe withholding it from me, by all means keep it. If it means me and him get to spend a lifetime together, keep it all you like. That's just some speculation though and I should like to do a tarot reading to confirm and map out a few things regarding my personal relationships, but that's for later.