The Scholarly Fangirl

College is full of memorable experiences. I remember one particular day when I was sitting in senior seminar, a prep class for graduating students in the Humanities Department, when two of my friends got into a debate about literature. While it may not sound atypical, this particular topic got heated quite quickly. One of my friends argued for the importance of teaching classical literature, like Shakespeare, and the other argued that contemporary novels, like young adult fiction, would become the new classics.

Although the debate quickly became passionate, the two made it up to each other before the end of the semester. Another of my friends even wrote a play for creative writing based off the encounter. The main problem I had while listening to it all was that I agreed with both of them. I’m a classicist in that I like sitting down with a book that challenges me intellectually. But I’m also a fangirl who enjoys books that make me laugh, cry, and want to throw the book against the wall.

Once upon a time, I didn’t like Shakespeare. He’s seen as the patriarch of English literature and the standard for most writers to ascribe too. I wondered, how can anybody live up to such a title? And how could one person have so much influence over literature while other writers are considered lesser?

Eventually, over the course of my undergraduate, I came to appreciate and enjoy Shakespeare’s plays and poetry, though I still don’t consider him the greatest writer known to mankind. I even came to have favorite plays, having written a paper on As You Like It. Throughout my college career, I came to learn a lot about my reading preferences.

The intellectual in me thoroughly enjoys studying literature, especially if it’s more difficult to read. I like discussions about literary tropes and trends in styles. In fact, that’s one of the reasons I started this blog—to express my thoughts on books and encourage discussions. I like to learn, to expand my mind, to grow. Reading challenging literature does just that.

When I was studying for my M.A. in English Literature, I spent a lot of time studying Middle English (think Shakespeare). A. LOT. So much so that when I decided to watch The Hollow Crown: War of the Roses for FUN. Part of the way through Henry VI, Part 1, I found that I could understand nearly everything they were saying. When I first started reading Shakespeare’s plays, I had to look up everything on SparkNotes and really analyze the text. Now I have little problem with it.

That doesn’t mean I don’t have difficulties. I still have to study the plot and characters to fully grasp them. Sure, sometimes I even have to look up some of the lesser-known phrases. But I find hearing language or reading the text presents few challenges. And understanding, whether historical or linguistic, makes literature far more enjoyable.

Perhaps that’s what it means to be a master at something: overcoming learning challenges to discover how to enjoy a text.

I mean, can a scholar really enjoy studying a Hamlet with the same relish as a teenager fangirls over The Hunger Games?

Yes.

Why not?

While the response towards the text may be different, there’s no rule saying that scholars can’t enjoy their work. I never would have pursued a degree in English literature if I didn’t enjoy reading it. Of course, literature often makes me think, but there are some instances when it makes me feel too, and more than just boredom. Richard III, A Modest Proposal, and The Telltale Heart made me shudder.

On the other hand, there are times when I’m tired from a long day, or a long semester, and I want to be swept away by a story instead of being encouraged to think. It’s these moments when the fangirl in me will pick up a young adult novel and connect with the characters and the story.

But that isn’t to say that I don’t learn. Sometimes a story will have a particularly interesting writing style or character development that I’ll note for my own writing. Or a story’s theme may inspire or challenge me. Or maybe a novel just moved me with every single aspect—the plot, the characters, the voice, the research, the theme—that I want to rush out and by myself a copy if I don’t already have one.

These types of books tend to be commercial instead of literary. But that isn’t to say that they don’t have literary value. A book that brings me to tears—or close to it—while it may not have the heavy descriptions typical of “literary” books, can still impress value through theme or other details. 

The Book Thief (historical fiction) is classified as young adult, but it’s also poetically profound with the way it values life and friendships. 

Illuminae (sci-fi) is another YA novel but with a unique writing style, told through chats, video feeds, and AI data. But the dedication of the characters towards the pursuit and exposure of the truth is astounding.

Inkheart (fantasy), the start of a YA trilogy, explores the importance of place and the value of words.

Now that I’ve finished my schooling in English and literature, I’ve started picking up books like Moby-Dick because I can’t resist a good intellectual challenge. But that’s not to say that I don’t enjoy YA books. I’ve read perhaps ten while I’m in the process of getting through this whale-obsessed narrative/study. Next time, I may pick up a less dense classic.

Until then, I will push through.

And just because I’m not technically a young adult (ages 13-18), doesn’t mean I will stop reading and writing YA.

As an intellectual, I will learn about cultures and histories, languages and sciences.

As a fangirl, I will laugh and stress with characters, turning pages late into the night.

Of course, the best books—whether classic or contemporary—encourage both.

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Related posts: Escaping Fiction, The Greatest Literary Thieves, and The Power of Fiction

Literary references: William Shakespeare’s As You Like It; Henry VI, Part 1; Hamlet; and Richard III; Suzanne Collins’ The Hunger Games; Jonathan Swift’s A Modest Proposal; Edgar Allen Poe’s The Telltale Heart; Markus Zusak’s The Book Thief; Amie Kaufman and Jay Kristoff’s Illuminae; Cornelia Funke’s Inkheart; and Herman Melville’s Moby-Dick.

Do you consider yourself more of a scholar or a fangirl? What’s your favorite genre? Why? 

Living Under a Rock

Typically, the first year I live anywhere is a blur. It’s that unsettling year of confusion trying to find out how a place works and figuring out how to make a routine and friendships. The first and only year I lived in El Paso, Texas is an exception. I remember lots of things—the mountains and the view of Mexico from my bedroom window, the day we had to put our dog down, the afternoons I spent riding and grooming my horse Connie, and starting community college.

I remember when I was signing up for my classes in community college and my advisor sat me down, glanced at my high school records, and asked if I didn’t want to major in law instead of English. Essentially, why would anybody want to waste talent on studying a language they already speak? I was flattered at the remark on my previous grades, but I stuck with English anyway and breezed my way through my freshman year.

As the spring semester rolled around, my dad received orders to move to Germany. And I was determined that I would go along with my family. There was only one problem—my education. How would I manage to major in English in a non-English speaking country? After much consideration, and several changes of plans, I ended up attending Evangel University that fall.

And many more things changed.

I still majored in English but I also took up a minor in writing and joined Epiphany, the university’s literary magazine staff. But it didn’t take me long to learn that university life was much harder than community college. I panicked when I received my first D on an essay, and not for lack of trying. Having been used to getting all As, such a grade was an unheard of disaster. And while I adjusted to a new level of work, I never quite got used to the reading lists—there were so many readings lists for so many literature classes.

Sitting in British Literature one day, staring at the assigned texts for our course, I realized that I recognized most of the titles but had only ever read maybe one or two of them. And I was an English major! Looking at my friend and classmate, Faith, I said, “I feel like I’ve been living under a rock my whole life.”

Wasn’t I supposed to be a bookworm? How was it that twenty books for a college class should make me feel so ignorant? That semester passed, and the next, and the next. Now that I’m in grad school studying English literature, I still don’t think much has changed. Yes, I’ve read countless books in the past four years, but I’ve also learned that there is so much more to learn.

Studying English in my undergraduate gave me some of the basics, and majoring in English literature at a postgraduate level showed me there are even more things to learn, let alone read. I may have taken a class on Shakespeare, but I haven’t read all his plays. I have studied A Tale of Two Cities, The Faerie Queene, and The Great Gatsby, but I have yet to read Great Expectations, The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood, and 1984. And my to-be-read (TBR) list is ever growing.

Studying English has given me a mere sampling of the world’s literature. It’s shown me that learning is a continual process and that there’s more to being an English major than being a Grammar Nazi. (Which I’m not by the way. I don’t want hold people up to such standards when I can’t spell half the time.) And it’s like my mom used to say, “The more you know, the more you know you don’t know.” I don’t have to feel like I’ve lived under a rock my whole life, basking in ignorance just because I had different experiences.

Connie

I may not have read Les Miserables yet, but I’ve seen Paris twice during summer break visiting my family in Germany. I may not have studied Antony and Cleopatra, but I got to see it performed at the Globe Theatre. I may not have read Black Beauty, but Connie had a beauty of her own despite her shy, awkward temperament. 

On the other hand, I’ve visited Israel with Sherlock Holmes in O, Jerusalem when I might never visit in person while turmoil continues. Through reading, I’ve seen fictional worlds such as Narnia, Middle Earth, and Hogwarts. I’ve even visited Mars within the pages of Out of the Silent Planet and A Princess of Mars.

So no, I haven’t lived under a rock my whole life, though sometimes it feels like it. There’s just more places to discover, more books to read, and less to take for granted—even the ordinary days when I’m at home with family and a shelf full of books. 

Have you ever felt like you’ve lived under a rock when considering what you haven’t read? How many books are on your TBR list?

Literary references: Charles Dicken’s A Tale of Two Cities, Edmund Spencer’s The Faerie Queene, F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby, Charles Dicken’s Great Expectations, Howard Pyle’s The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood, George Orwell’s 1984, Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables, William Shakespeare’s Antony and Cleopatra, Anna Sewell’s Black Beauty, C.S. Lewis’ Out of the Silent Planet, and Edgar Rice Burroughs’s A Princess of Mars.

Flour: A Poem

I’m trying something new this year. Instead of posting a book review every month, I shall be writing a poem instead. While I will continue to read, and (hopefully) review books, I do not have the time to dedicate the book reviews on a monthly basis. Instead, I shall be posting three unscheduled reviews of books released this year and sharing poetry with you on a monthly basis. I find poems just come to me, especially when I’m stressed and working on essays or research.

I wrote this one based off my experience as a college student. As a 20-something-year-old, I often find myself lost in an overwhelming world of choices, choices concerning my future, when I’m already under loads of stress. I find myself asking questions like: How will I find a job after I graduate? Where will I live if I don’t even have a home country? Can I even look for a job when I can barely complete my essays in time and cooking meals becomes a daily chore? These are just a few of the questions running through my mind that I’m sure many college students can relate with. The unknown can be frightening.

Without further ado, here is my first poem for this year. Dedicated to the People-Who-Don’t-Know-What-They’re-Doing-With-Their-Lives.

Flour

The silent screech of chalk on a chalkboard rolls between your fingers.

Sweep the silky silver cobwebs from the corners of your mind,

nurture, feed, stuff it ‘till it’s full and empty it again. The sound of

heeled shoes echoing on the wooden floor, creaking from the weight,

bending as the imagination swirls, stretches, groans in yellow sciences,

and bittersweet vanilla romance, smells divine and tastes sour.

Old friends, new times, under pressure, half-hearted rhymes

of times long ago, sung in tales, melded in dramas, and laughed in gossip

as the politics seep into the innocence of yesterday, no longer pale

naivety in the yellow sun, the face of torment. Don’t speak of exams

pounding answers, fill in the blank, seep in the letter c, a, d, c, c, c—

see here now, can’t be bothered with another essay. Writing is one thing,

but baking, burning my mind with letters no longer comprehendible

is another. A blast of cold air meets the mass exodus of fish—students—

pouring out of school into the wide world, wading, wishing for another

grade, the final scale of excellence. Even after the triumph of the release,

the final test comes in the tasting. Too tart, too sweet, or just right?

Did you enjoy this poem? Were there ever times when the unknown future seemed daunting? Let me know what you think!

The Importance of Poetry: A Journey of Acceptance

Poetry and I have an interesting relationship. For as long as I can remember, I’ve enjoyed prose, especially fantasy and young adult fiction. But I haven’t always enjoyed poetry. In fact, there was a time I hated it. Why? Poetry was confusing, abstract, and (I thought) pointless.

I wondered why readers would want to trudge through something confusing with hopes of deciphering meaning. Wasn’t writing supposed to be clear and to the point? And for goodness’ sake, why did all poetry have to be so structured? If there was anything I didn’t like doing with my writing it was thinking within the box. Coloring in the lines. Conformity.

For years I hated poetry.

My sophomore year of college, I took Children’s Literature where reading and evaluating children’s poetry was a requirement. Of course, before taking the class I knew that there are many types of poetry, but I hadn’t taken the time to read many of them.

Ultimately, I selected “Ballad of the Wandering Eft” from Dark Emperor & Other Poems of the Night. The poem was short and straightforward, but it was full of imagery and told a narrative. It was a lovely poem. I began to wonder if perhaps not all poetry was bad. I moved on with my life, struggling through classical poetry for several more semesters.

It wasn’t until the spring semester of my junior year that I came to actually enjoy poetry. I was sitting with my friend Faith before Modernism and Postmodernism class when I came up with an idea for a poem. During this semester, I learned that philosophy is ten times more intimidating and baffling than poetry for me (leastwise when it comes to (post-)modern stuff). There’s nothing like good old philosophy to get my mind to work creatively.

I told Faith about my poem idea, becoming more excited as the idea developed. So she encouraged me, saying she’d never seen my so excited about writing a poem before. Which was true. I never had been so excited about poetry.

After class, I rushed back to my dorm room and started researching and scribbling. In the end, the poem turned out to be a mish-mash of movie quotes and some of my own words. The poem made a fun piece of performance poetry for Friday’s Epiphany Coffeehouse (Evangel’s monthly open mic event hosted by Epiphany Magazine staff).

 

So it was that I came to enjoy writing poetry.

 

My senior year, I took creative writing and wrote more poetry. Our class even visited the Springfield Art Museum to write poetry based on pieces of art. I wrote three poems based on three separate paintings. My final semester, the poems were displayed in the art museum next to the paintings. You can read more about it in the Springfield News-Leader.

It took a few years, but I went from hating poetry to accepting poems to enjoying and writing poetry. I learned that poetry can be an art form of its own. Since I can’t paint using acrylics or watercolors, I may as well use words.

 

I learned that poetry comes in different forms, much like prose, and can allow writers to think beyond mere structures. I learned that I enjoy free verse and lots of clear imagery. I learned that poetry can stretch the mind, and being open minded isn’t such a bad thing. After all, you can’t think outside the box, if you don’t at least open the lid a little bit.

 

In celebration of reading and writing poetry, I’ve included a short, free verse poem I wrote specifically for this post. It’s based on tourism vs. local life in Germany, and I hope you enjoy it!

5 Ways Journalism Taught me to be a Better Creative Writer

When I was a kid, I told myself I would never go into journalism. It was too terrifying for an introvert like me. How could I ever talk with all those people? As it turns out, I ended up taking newspaper workshop to fulfill my writing minor in college. So there I found myself last semester doing the very things I was terrified of doing: talking.

But I learned several things along the way.

 

1) How to send an e-mail.

I despise sending e-mails. They are incredibly stressful, especially since I often re-read them five times, click send, and then catch a grammatical error. How frustrating is that?

Nonetheless, e-mails must be sent in order to make necessary contacts. In my journalism writing class, it was considered polite to set up an appointment prior to an interview, which involved many e-mails. Even though I had sent many e-mails prior to taking this class, I had never sent so many each week.  This constant routine forced me past my fear and into clicking the send button.

This skill of sending e-mails is essential for any writer today, especially creative writers. What better way is there to send out an e-mail to a publisher than by practicing?

2) How to talk with people I don’t know.

College overall taught me this, but in this particular class, I had speak with a lot of people I didn’t know. Although the thought initially scared me, another thought kept me going. If I didn’t speak with people and get any of my interviews, I would undoubtedly receive an F. And for me, a B or below is scarier than talking with a person.

In some ways, speaking to people is necessary for writing. If I, as a writer, am never willing to meet to new people and establish new relationships, how could I ever hope to get anything published? And the prospect of never getting published is scarier than any potential rejection letter.

3) How to talk with people I know.

It's harder to ask people I know for things than it is to ask strangers. At least with the latter, I can be polite, and I will probably never see them again. With people I know, I have to be more careful because I will see them again. And again. Chances are, they might not remember a blunder, but I will.
 

While I didn’t necessarily get over these fears, I came up with a strategy. When approaching somebody I knew, I always had icebreaker (not to be confused with a bribe). I liked to walk up to people with a box of chocolate and offer them a piece, ask them how their day was, and then ask about an interview. It worked wonders.
 

Even after the interviews, I talked with the people I knew and developed relationships, which is beneficial for writers, readers, and people alike.

 

4) How to interview people.

This is not quite the same thing as talking to people. That requires courage. Interviewing requires knowing the correct questions. Once I knew these, everything became a simple matter of listening and recording.

Interviews can be helpful for fiction and nonfiction writers alike in order to ensure accuracy historically, scientifically, psychologically, etc.

5) Having a word limit.

Another difficult things for any writer is word limit, but I have a tendency to write more than is required. Instead of scrambling to put in filler just to make 250 words, I would often end up with too many.

300-350 word limit. You meant 400-450 right?

This often resulted in cutting out words and even valuable material. Often times, I would have three pages worth of interview notes but had to summarize this information to one page. Each time I wrote an article, I had to focus the main essence and sometimes leave things out.

While cutting words may hurt, it can prove beneficial. The more concise and direct a piece of writing is, the better. It’s also great for writing flash fiction. Less is more!

* * * * *

This entry is not to say that I have mastered journalism or my fears. But I have learned that some people are not as scary to talk with as they may originally seem and that various disciplines can teach necessary skills to creative writers.

 

Do you know any other ways that journalism could benefit creative writers? Are there any instances when facing your fears helped you learn something?