About Amanda
So about a month ago I started this blog and just am just now realizing why the 'Pages' and 'Posts' are two different things (yes I had to Google it).
In my very first post and those following it, I gave you a little insight as to who I am and what I do. I thought my very first page should give you all the nitty gritty.
Things you should know about me.
I am a very private person so this will not be all inclusive
My blog and Twitter account use my pen name rather than my real name
2 of my friends (not that there are many more after that) know about this blog, both are writer friends and I love them dearly.
I have a fear and longing for being discovered as an author.
While my pen name is not my own my real first name is Amanda. I have always loved to write though never thought of it as a successful profession. I needed something that would bring in money because I have a strong desire to be financially independent.
I am a student, a (almost) wife, a minimum wage employee, pet owner, friend, daughter, and sister, in that order.
While trying to decide my major the first time around I started as an art education major. I love ceramics. I love 3-D art. I'm not too bad at it either. Semester 1 - my drawing teacher tells me I don't have the talent to be an artist and I should drop her class, so I did, I dropped the whole major. I didn't want to be a starving artist or deal with high school kids anyways. But in my very first ceramics class (which I had to get special permission from my high school ceramics teacher to take) I met my very first long-time friend, who would inevitably introduce me to my now fiancé.
After that I thought about psychology. I was very good at it. But everyone was a psychology major (like 22% of the campus) and I didn't want to enter such a competitive field because I wanted to stand out. Also, I was dead set on never going back to school for a Master's degree, let alone a PhD.
I took a Creative Writing class (one of my only A's during my first undergraduate experience) and I dreamed of being a writer. But again, starving artist. I had a fear that I would never write anything good enough to actually be published, so I didn't even declare it.
I found Biology and that was what I stuck with. This led me to an even more competitive field than psychology. (which, ironically, you could enter with a psychology degree). It required moving through multiple states for unpaid internships and working for minimum wage or just above. By my 3rd year in this field I realized it was sustainable for me and that it didn't line up with what I wanted for my future. I said to my fiancé one day "I think I want to go back to school" and before I knew it I was finishing my first summer class and going back to school.
One of the stipulations of my new adventure is a Master's degree. I officially did everything I said I wasn't going to do.
I am currently doing another unpaid internship (but only for 8 weeks instead of 3-4 months) and I am finding I am enjoying it (though today is only my third day). I have one year left of Undergraduate and then I enter my Master's program.
Despite all of this I am also trying to plan my wedding. Unlike most horror story fiancés, mine has been overly helpful. While I do homework and take care of the numerous animals I keep bringing home he has called vendors and remained in contact with out venue people. He successfully picked out the menswear and helped pick the music (though he got a little carried away with that because he used to be a music major and had to critique everything).
Through all of this time I had dreams of being a writer, seeing people reading my novels, my name (or pen name) on a bookshelf somewhere. I know that many authors are able to do that as a full time job but I just couldn't see myself putting anything out there that was that good. I didn't want to have to rely on anyone to pay my bills while I tried to get published or (the biggest one) being told that my writing wasn't good enough to get me anywhere. So I came up with story ideas and filed them away. I have half finished novels on every computer I've ever owned. I have 2 completed short stories that are sitting on this very laptop that I forgot I even wrote. Maybe one day I'll edit them and get them out there, but for now, there they sit.
But this time (possibly the worst timing) I decided to finish this idea for a novel I had. I was going to see it through to the end. So I started writing Creatures. To hold me accountable and address my woes of writing I started writing this blog. I had all of 3 readers, me (because I forgot to turn off the thing that counts my visit as a read), and my 2 friends.
One friend suggested I take my blog to social media. So after creating a whole new email account and a brand new twitter I took my blog to social media. Which is probably why you are even here, reading this lengthy, somewhat boring description of me.
This blog has been good for me. Every time I write a post and realize I don't have an update on Creatures I turn back to my novel and keep writing. I don't have an outline or a game plan really, I just write. I can edit later.
I am hoping to have it done and published by the end of the year. Though those are lofty goals, seeing as we're nearly halfway through and I'm only in Chapter 3. But I am still learning to manage my time and use my time wisely (kind of: I.E. writing this page instead of using the time to write more in Creatures).
I realize this was pretty lengthy and so for your time, have a snippet:
“Who’s there?” He demanded. If it was one of the creatures, he had already announced his presence with the flashlight. So many years had passed since he had last seen a living person he was almost hoping it would be a creature. But the slow, sure steps in the creaking floorboard told him otherwise. “What the hell are you doing in here!?” He demanded more loudly this time. His nerves were standing on end and the tension only furthered the ache in his neck. Finally his flashlight landed on a girl, about his own age, hunched under a corkboard filled with handmade daggers, stuffing her face with one of his cans of beans.
In my very first post and those following it, I gave you a little insight as to who I am and what I do. I thought my very first page should give you all the nitty gritty.
Things you should know about me.
I am a very private person so this will not be all inclusive
My blog and Twitter account use my pen name rather than my real name
2 of my friends (not that there are many more after that) know about this blog, both are writer friends and I love them dearly.
I have a fear and longing for being discovered as an author.
While my pen name is not my own my real first name is Amanda. I have always loved to write though never thought of it as a successful profession. I needed something that would bring in money because I have a strong desire to be financially independent.
I am a student, a (almost) wife, a minimum wage employee, pet owner, friend, daughter, and sister, in that order.
While trying to decide my major the first time around I started as an art education major. I love ceramics. I love 3-D art. I'm not too bad at it either. Semester 1 - my drawing teacher tells me I don't have the talent to be an artist and I should drop her class, so I did, I dropped the whole major. I didn't want to be a starving artist or deal with high school kids anyways. But in my very first ceramics class (which I had to get special permission from my high school ceramics teacher to take) I met my very first long-time friend, who would inevitably introduce me to my now fiancé.
After that I thought about psychology. I was very good at it. But everyone was a psychology major (like 22% of the campus) and I didn't want to enter such a competitive field because I wanted to stand out. Also, I was dead set on never going back to school for a Master's degree, let alone a PhD.
I took a Creative Writing class (one of my only A's during my first undergraduate experience) and I dreamed of being a writer. But again, starving artist. I had a fear that I would never write anything good enough to actually be published, so I didn't even declare it.
I found Biology and that was what I stuck with. This led me to an even more competitive field than psychology. (which, ironically, you could enter with a psychology degree). It required moving through multiple states for unpaid internships and working for minimum wage or just above. By my 3rd year in this field I realized it was sustainable for me and that it didn't line up with what I wanted for my future. I said to my fiancé one day "I think I want to go back to school" and before I knew it I was finishing my first summer class and going back to school.
One of the stipulations of my new adventure is a Master's degree. I officially did everything I said I wasn't going to do.
I am currently doing another unpaid internship (but only for 8 weeks instead of 3-4 months) and I am finding I am enjoying it (though today is only my third day). I have one year left of Undergraduate and then I enter my Master's program.
Despite all of this I am also trying to plan my wedding. Unlike most horror story fiancés, mine has been overly helpful. While I do homework and take care of the numerous animals I keep bringing home he has called vendors and remained in contact with out venue people. He successfully picked out the menswear and helped pick the music (though he got a little carried away with that because he used to be a music major and had to critique everything).
Through all of this time I had dreams of being a writer, seeing people reading my novels, my name (or pen name) on a bookshelf somewhere. I know that many authors are able to do that as a full time job but I just couldn't see myself putting anything out there that was that good. I didn't want to have to rely on anyone to pay my bills while I tried to get published or (the biggest one) being told that my writing wasn't good enough to get me anywhere. So I came up with story ideas and filed them away. I have half finished novels on every computer I've ever owned. I have 2 completed short stories that are sitting on this very laptop that I forgot I even wrote. Maybe one day I'll edit them and get them out there, but for now, there they sit.
But this time (possibly the worst timing) I decided to finish this idea for a novel I had. I was going to see it through to the end. So I started writing Creatures. To hold me accountable and address my woes of writing I started writing this blog. I had all of 3 readers, me (because I forgot to turn off the thing that counts my visit as a read), and my 2 friends.
One friend suggested I take my blog to social media. So after creating a whole new email account and a brand new twitter I took my blog to social media. Which is probably why you are even here, reading this lengthy, somewhat boring description of me.
This blog has been good for me. Every time I write a post and realize I don't have an update on Creatures I turn back to my novel and keep writing. I don't have an outline or a game plan really, I just write. I can edit later.
I am hoping to have it done and published by the end of the year. Though those are lofty goals, seeing as we're nearly halfway through and I'm only in Chapter 3. But I am still learning to manage my time and use my time wisely (kind of: I.E. writing this page instead of using the time to write more in Creatures).
I realize this was pretty lengthy and so for your time, have a snippet:
“Who’s there?” He demanded. If it was one of the creatures, he had already announced his presence with the flashlight. So many years had passed since he had last seen a living person he was almost hoping it would be a creature. But the slow, sure steps in the creaking floorboard told him otherwise. “What the hell are you doing in here!?” He demanded more loudly this time. His nerves were standing on end and the tension only furthered the ache in his neck. Finally his flashlight landed on a girl, about his own age, hunched under a corkboard filled with handmade daggers, stuffing her face with one of his cans of beans.
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