Reactions to My Old Writing

I always feel really happy when people react to my poems. Especially my much older ones from when I was around 16. I still get responses from people telling me what they think and its great.

I haven’t posted anything on that website in a long time, mainly because I started this blog and didn’t want my work to be under two different names. It was mainly in case someone claimed I was stealing somebody else’s work, when in actuality I’d just been writing under a different name. That could have become problematic. I have some friends on that website who would rip someone apart on my behalf simply because they know I try hard not to get involved in any sort of drama. They’d do it behind my back too without saying a word because they know I’d protest. At least I know they have my back.

freakingout

Yah, I like that even three, four years later people are still finding my poems and responding to them. It makes me happy and also makes me realize that what I consider to be my “bad” writing has had an effect on people. Like…I’m sitting there going “I rhymed a word with the same word…why? WHY!?” but they’re like “Wow this really touched me. Thank you for sharing.”

Try not to think that because your writing is older that it isn’t any good, or worth looking at. It can help you grow. It shows the techniques you’d been using before, and you can compare it with how you are writing currently. For example, I used to try and use a lot of description, now I like to use a lot of dialogue. When I read my older work, I’m actually impressed with the way I described things but also annoyed at how detailed it is. I wrote something like,

“The bricks of the wall were a mustard yellow colour. The charcoal pavement looked strange up against the yellow bricks.”

I’d look a lot like this:

zonedout

Yah…a thirteen year olds writing versus a twenty year olds. Same person…very different writer. I’ve never actually disliked my writing style. I’ve always been good with dialogue…but like man those descriptions were just sad. They were sad. I don’t know how else to describe them. They did nothing for the passages. They had no purpose. I just always felt like I wasn’t writing enough. Now I’m like “Okay end of chapter. Onto the next!” without questioning myself.

I would encourage everyone to go and look at their older work. Even comparing what genres you used to write is hilarious. I used to pretty much write the same two stories over and over again when I was little until around the 7th grade. Scenario, there is a kid (or group of kids) and they save an animal…or multiple. That’s the story. Some times it was talking animals saving other animals. I was one of those little kids that really liked animals. Yep…now I write about people. And I don’t use the same names over and over again. Like Jordan and Karen and Mac and Emily.

Mac and Emily are very, very famous characters of mine. They have three books and two were bound by my teacher in gr. 4. There are even pictures. And yes…they save the animals from bad guys who are trying to ship the animals off to another country to sell them.

Karen and Jordan also saved the animals from a ship that was trying to sell them to another country.

I wrote them in the same grade. Don’t judge. I wish I had them here with me, because I’d scan a page to show you what I mean.

And there was that story about the baby owl that lost its family and was raised by a human. I wrote that for my brothers birthday when I was maybe in first grade? I used to steal a needle and thread from my moms sewing kit and sew the pages together.

…I wrote so many stories as a kid how did my parents suddenly think I was a weirdo when I wrote six novels at 13? Guess its because I carried my notebooks everywhere and fell asleep with them in bed aha…yah. Good times. Don’t recommend sleeping on a binder. It’s cold and uncomfortable. Also you risk ripping pages.

This is longer than I expected it to be.

I have work to do including chores so I’d better go.

— R.

Goodbyes: The End of Both Writer’s Club, and High School

Over the last year, I have grown a lot as a writer. I’ve broken out of my shell and joined groups where I can spend time with other writers, doing exercises, editing, and learning about new competitions. The experience has be great, and it has helped me meet so many extraordinary people. It even helped me build a strong relationship with some of my teachers, whom of which now I trust quite a lot, and will greatly miss when I leave this small school of mine.

This week, we heard that the club would be dwindling down, as the year is coming to an end. Exams are, unfortunately much closer than we want to believe.

It’s still hard to believe that four years of my life have just zipped by. It’s as if I’d been sitting on a train in the subway waiting for my next stop. I knew it was coming, however it happened all so suddenly. Thankfully, unlike a subway train, the memories I made are not a blurred image in a window. These memories are so clear, it is as if they happened yesterday.

If only there were some way to say, “Goodbye,” without it meaning farewell.

Though I am ready to begin the next chapter in my life, saying goodbye will still feel odd. It’s as if somewhere inside of me, I think that after I walk out those doors and get on the bus for the final time, that I’ll be back again the next day….I loved my time as this little school. I have no regrets. I wouldn’t do a thing different. High school was absolutely perfect, and the memories I made during these last four years, will always be remembered in my heart as something worth cherishing.Image

I do hope that in university there will be some sort of group for writers, where I can go and meet those who have similar interests as me. I hope that I made an excellent, strong group of friends like the ones I will be finishing with. I will do my best not to crawl back into my shell, and let my presence be known. In order for these wishes of mine to become a reality, I must take small baby steps and make the first move.

While I am away, I will try and start up a list of advice to give to my younger sister, as she will need it quite soon after. It will be strange not having her storm around the house while getting ready in the morning (she isn’t a morning person). Well, I’m sure that I will get used to the changes eventually.

Till next time,

 

Orion.

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