Thursday, September 29, 2011
We were climbing rocks on the coast of West Wales the other day when we realized that it was a year to the day that we started our MA course together. Not all of us became friends that day, only Alisha and I really (culturally thrust together when we heard each others accents), but we all met, exchanged curious glances, were aware of each others presences. There was no telling at that point that a year to the day from that stuffy attic room in the Tonge building, full of strangers crazy enough to want to write, that we'd be together in such a beautiful place, smelly puppy in toe, an MA under our belts and nothing but hopefully hazy futures ahead of us.
That day on the cliffs we were a man down, Charlie unfortunately couldn't come, but we filled his place (but in no way replaced him) with my right hand man, Rose. Even without Charles, it was a surreal moment. All the cliche things were happening, the waves were gently crashing on the rocks, Mungo (said smelly puppy) was barking at Tom and getting soaked in the surf, the sea breeze was throwing our hair in our eyes and the sun even made an appearance after two days of drizzle and mounds of muddy paths and wellies. Standing on the cliffs with my friends was much more significant to me than August 3rd, my one year anniversary of moving to England. That day came and went without a thought. However, I think realizing that it was a year to the day that the course started was more important because the MA was the entire reason I'm here. It was fitting too that Rose was there, my first friend, once and future housemate and one of the coolest people I've ever met; her presence completed it, brought my year right back around to that sunny September when I started, back when I thought I knew what I was doing, back when I thought I'd be home by now, back when everything was still foreign and I still hadn't seen Doctor Who.
Ps, I'm not making a new blog. This one is just fine. But from now on, I'm no longer major7th. I'm Maria C. Goodson; keep your 'lectric eye on me, babe.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
So yesterday, I was sitting in the Jericho Cafe, waiting for a movie to start at the Phoenix across the street where I was meeting a friend later. I got to Jericho really early, a few hours early, as I tend to do, so I got a drink and sat in the cafe to kill time. I ended up sitting there for almost two hours, making the above doodle/poem/legalpadartthing, listening to my ipod, and I came up with a new idea.
Really, it wasn't my idea. My buddy Rob was visiting the other day, and he was showing me all his music on the internet. He is alllll over the internet and asked if I had a blog. I said I did and showed it to him, and he asked me what it was about. I couldn't really answer that, what is this blog about? It's about nothing, like Seinfeld, but not as funny. I explained to him that the purpose of the blog was initially for a class, then just for fun, then an easy way to let my friends and family know what I was up to while in England. But, some of my posts do have points. He said I should make a new blog, the with-a-point blog. And I decided yesterday that this was a great idea.
More on this new blog later, I'm still trying to come up with a name. It should just be called MARIA C GOODSON THE WRITER BLOGGG or something like that, but I really like Keep your 'lectric eye on me, babe, so I might go for another Bowie lyric. Any suggestions? Throw um at me: if you feel inclined to comment, let me also know about your favorite line from any David Bowie song, if you have one. I'm still thinking Moonage Daydream, I just love that tune.
Ok, about to be late for work, as usual.
See ya later, party people.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
|Hanging on my wall, above my desk, in case I forget that I finished.|
|Curtesy of Rose Brettingham (image) and Charlie Brassly (formatting).|
You know you want to read it. Find me a publisher and we'll talk.
Or just ask and I'll send you a copy.
I wish I'd taken a picture of the actual bound final product, but I only held it in my hands for about the second it took to walk from the print center to the English Department building. Just take my word for it- it was beautiful.
My friends from the course got to our house on Thursday around 11am where we commenced freaking out about every little thing, comparing word counts (21,237, final) and figuring out the stupid, online turn-it-in thing we had to do to prove we didn't plagiarize. Come on Brookes; why would I spend tons of money to do this course, only then to plagiarize my final project, thus learning absolutely nothing and getting nothing from my degree?
After stressing ourselves out for no reason for a few hours at home, we split up into two convoys with separate missions; Charlie and I went to his house to use his ultimate photoshop to fix my cover and print his project and Alisha, Meg and Tom went to buy food for later. We all met up again, my project and Charlie's lovingly printed off and contained in a shoe box, at the copy center, a gigantic room that only allows students to stand in a tiny, smashed up area where all the hot air from the printers happens to end up, and we all were printed and bound. Meg went for comb binding, Alisha and Tom with tape, and Charlie and I went for wire, in case anyone was wondering (wire trumps tape any day, don't let anyone tell you otherwise).
We all turned in, signed off on our projects, got them signed off, received our official little receipts and were on our way. And that was it, my year in England worth of hard work and stress officially out of my hands and submitted. No marks till December, don't graduate till April. I hate waiting, but Rose found me this great quote for my bedroom wall about how patience is not really being able to wait, but "the ability to keep a good attitude while waiting." So I guess I'll try that.
In other news, everything is happening. I bought a plane ticket to come home for Christmas for a whole month, so get ready people, it's going to be good. I'm applying for some new jobs now that I'm officially allowed to work more hours. I still love my house, although not being a student is killing us tax wise. I can once again read and write anything I want. I decided that, when I move back home eventually, that I'm going to apply for an internship at the Jim Henson puppet workshops in either New York or LA. They have a headquarters in London too, but there are no internships there. I'm just going to try to ride this creative train till it crashes and I'm forced to get a real job. But damn the man, not yet!
However, speaking of jobs, I should probably get ready for mine now. Good old gift shop. I did make my life more interesting yesterday at work (I basically work all weekend long now a days, every weekend) by organizing/editing our postcard list. Sounds lame, I know, but once I'm done it will actually make my life and that of everyone else much easier, so I felt a little accomplished, for once.
The question now is this: what do I write next? Let's take a poll (as if you all know anything about any of these):
~Write second draft of Beyond the Fold.
~Write scenes of/figure out new book idea, working title Existence.
~Continue with Practice Dating (might save this one for NaNoWriMo, since it's so fun and ridiculous).
So many choices! I think I'm leaning toward the second draft of Beyond the Fold (notice how I'm putting my titles in italics now, as if they were real books already) seeing as it's the closest to completion, and I love it with all my heart. However, I will probably have to take a break in November for NaNo, in which case it will be a tie between Practice Dating and Existence. Unfortunately Talented is going to have to take the back burner for a while, because I just don't know what happens next. I'm sure I'll figure it out as I'm writing the others, that's always the way of things.
Alright, I really do need to go to work now. Hopefully the completion of my MA also means I'll blog more. Hold me to that, faithful readers, because I do enjoy it.
~major7th, MA of the universe