Summer 2018: Between the Lines

This summer I had the chance to do a research fellowship at the University of Iowa, where I'm currently (like, today) moving back for my second year of college.  I worked with the International Writing Program and Between the Lines, their intensive summer writing camp.  For the first part of the summer, I did some research on the impact of social media on global communities (help me collect more data here!), and prepared for the camp. Then, I spent the month of July in Iowa City for the actual camp.

It. was. the. best. experience. ever. 

Oh my goodness.  I can't put it into words so I have no idea why I'm attempting to write a blog post, but I loved it with every electron in all my atoms.

For two weeks, I hung out with 36 high school students from the United States, Russia, and Arabic-speaking countries.  I was the photographer for the camp, but I also spent a lot of time hanging out with the students, acting as a tour guide for all the best ice cream and book stores in town, and just soaking in the inspiration that naturally comes with a group of writers from around the world.  

By the end of the two weeks, I had:

• ~1500 pictures
• 36 glimpses into what it is to be human, to be a writer, to be yourself
• 50+ new pages of poetry and writing in my journal
• 1 new family

and so much more.  These amazing people helped me understand pieces of myself, and probably more importantly, be more okay with those things.  They reminded me why I love writing and why I will probably be writing for the rest of my life.  I learned about creative nonfiction in some awesome workshops, and realized that I really enjoy it.

I think one of the most huge things about this camp was that everyone felt so understood, so accepted. It was two weeks of the most true versions of ourselves that we had ever experienced.  I'm so grateful to have been a part of it.  

I wrote some poetry on the night everyone left, as most of the students were flying back over the ocean to their home countries.  This is the best way to give you a glimpse into my summer. This piece was inspired by Anya's amazing nonfiction workshop and a piece by Joe Brainard, "I Remember", and it's for all the people I met this summer.

I REMEMBER: BTL 2018

I remember walking. Walking over rivers and through downtown. Walking over borders and between lines and into things we didn’t know or understand about ourselves. I remember saying goodbye and realizing that I understand a lot more of it, now.

I remember circles. Beginning circles where we stood at a distance and took careful steps to you in the center. Circles close to endings where we realized that you can find family from across an ocean. I remember crying, laughing, and laughing while crying. I remember how you asked me to take your picture and now I have one thousand memories of you in a folder on my computer’s desktop.

I remember overwhelming the waitress with pie shake orders way too close to closing time. I remember absolutely wrecking the seating arrangements in Burge so we could squeeze ourselves into two overcrowded tables. I remember the Haunted Bookshop and how many times we went back. Because you wanted to see the cat. Because you couldn’t get these books back home. Because you needed 31 more books. Because we all love places like those, where an old home became some other sort of home.

I remember how brave you are. I remember how you had so much to say, even if you didn’t always say it out loud. We heard you. I remember hearing your stories. I remember how powerful they were. How much you was packed in there, and how we all recognized each other.  

I remember screaming into The Void at 10pm and losing our voices for the rest of the week. I remember finding a giant teddy bear back at my apartment. I remember the most enthusiastic karaoke night I’ve ever experienced. I remember when we became the entire world, and when we were afraid it might not always be that way. It will, though, because together, we’re everywhere.

We went back in time. I remember dancing. I remember how proud I was of you for walking up to that podium to accept your certificates.

“I had hoped you’d see my face and be reminded that for me, it isn’t over.” -Adele, Someone Like You

I remember how time didn’t exist that night. I remember blankets and scattered chairs in the lobby the next morning, because you promised you wouldn’t fall asleep but you did anyway.

I remember how suddenly there weren’t enough people standing in our circle.

I remember telling you I won’t forget. I remember how your eyes reflected mine, pools, too shiny for goodbye. I remember how your car door closed, over and over again, but I was left open.

I remember how you left home to come to my city, and how when you returned, you left another home behind you.  I remember realizing we have the same soul. I remember how easy it was to be myself around you. I remember how you taught me what it means to be myself and when you cared about me, I cared about me more, too.

I remember smiling, after. I remember breaking and feeling whole and what it is to be loved, and I remember you.

– Caroline Meek

PS - I also want to give a big thank you to the Bureau of Education and Cultural Affairs, for funding the Between the Lines program, and to the Iowa Center for Research by Undergraduates, for granting me this fellowship. You can find the International Writing Program at iwp.uiowa.edu.

The Unexpected Inspirational Qualities of Country Music

So somehow, my country radio, which I listen to in the car sporadically, has inspired me to write again.

After 6 months.

And mind you, this is my W.I.P. Labyrinth, the high-fantasy, combat-heavy, dystopia book.

Not your typical country picnic, yeah?

I'm not questioning it very much right now, though.  I just wrote over a 1000 words in an hour, after being unable to write more than a few hundred for the last half year.

So usually, I listen to battle soundtracks from Lord of the Rings, Narnia, etc. for this kind of writing.  I mean, you kind of need intense music when writing intense scenes with your mythical Minotaur beastie, right?

Now, I'm not one of those people who are violently opposed to country.  I listen to it every once in a while, even sing it sometimes.  I like it for certain moods.  BUT.  I don't think I've ever used it for writing.  

So now, after having a such a productive writing session while listening to the same country song on repeat for 72 minutes, I'm left wondering why it was so effective. 

(By the way, the song was "Doin' What She Likes," by Blake Shelton.)  ;)

What is it about country music that can work so well for writing?  I've come to a few conclusions. 

1) Country music tells a story, too.  

One of my favorite things about country music is that it tells a story, possibly more than any other genre of music is known for.  Each verse contributes to and develops the plot.  The chorus is dynamic, often changing by the end.  There's a change of emotion, twist at the end, realization - something that makes it dynamic.  

So perhaps this helps my writer brain get into the storytelling mood, too?  It's basically like listening to a 4-minute plot model condensed into a few verses passionate about trucks, drinks, and women.  A great example, really.

2) Country music has real emotion.

Those country haters out there may disagree. But honestly, these lyrics hold a lot of emotion.  There is clear desire  present in every song.  The singer is obviously motivated, has a goal, regrets something, etc.  In my case, the emotion in the song made me want to write a scene with those emotions in my own story.  I'm not even sure how it came into my head, because I haven't thought seriously about Labyrinth for a few months, or even tried to work on it.  But I just found myself being able to connect to the emotions in these songs, even if I hadn't experienced that truck myself.  And then somehow, I was thinking of my characters and for the first time in forever (SIIIIIIIING MY FRENS, LET IT GO AND JUST SIIIIIIING), I wanted to play around with them and write something.

-   -   -   -

...Is it even grammatically legal to have a list with only two things on it?  Oh well, that's about all I can figure out about it at the moment, and I think it gets to the heart of the situation.  I have no idea if this new inspiration will last beyond tonight, but I'm grateful for it right now, in this moment.  I've been trying to worry less about the future lately.  Months without writing inspiration has made me realize I shouldn't force it.  Sometimes it goes away for a while.  

And then sometimes, it just pops back up again, out of no where?  (Honestly, I haven't been believing that myself lately.  I've been started to wonder if I should even be trying to write books at all.  It's hard to go without inspiration for that long.)  But apparently, it really can just come back "just like that" sometime.  

So if you're waiting around for inspiration, that's just fine.  It's lovely.  Keep waiting for a while.  Bake some cookies while you wait, or something. But don't give up on a dream.

Dreams are precious things.  

~Sincerely, your dream

Keep dreaming, my friends, and listen to country music.  

Or at least, consider listening to a completely different genre than what you're actually writing.  See what happens.  ;)

(P.S.  This country music is amazing.  One night alone and it inspired 1000 words on the WIP and an 800-word post.  xD  10/10 would listen on repeat again for 5 million years.)

Are you a country music fan?  No?  Has anyone else had a heavenly break-though with country music, or am I a lonely penguin in this cruel writing world?  What do you usually listen to when writing?