Kate Scott's Blog, page 19
September 4, 2013
What's Up Wednesday
What's Up Wednesday is a weekly meme hosted by Jaime Morrow and Erin Funk. Head over to Jaime's page for links to find out what's up with everyone else. Here's What's Up with me.What I'm Reading
This week, I read Second Chance Summer by Morgan Matson. I posted a review of it yesterday as a part of the YA book club.
What I'm Writing
I was out of town this past week and didn't get a chance to do any writing. I did do quite a bit of thinking while I was gone though. My musings included figuring out how to rework a couple of scenes that have been bothering me. So hopefully this next week the writing that I do will be extra productive.
What Else I've Been Up To
As I mentioned above, I was out of town last week. I went to Colorado to visit my aunt and uncle. It was a very bitter sweet vacation. My aunt and uncle used to live in a cabin in the woods near Colorado Springs. My uncle had a large collection of unusual toys that matched well with my husbands unusally toys, so Colorado has become a regular vacation destination for us.
Unfortunately, my aunt and uncle's house and all their toys burned down in a forest fire back in June. We had been planning to visit them in early July but pushed our visit back to late August after the fire. During the week we were there, we helped them sort through some of the ashes and loaded old treatures into scrap piles to be recycled.
My aunt and uncle saved their cat, their computer hard drive (which had a few photos on it), one box of important documents, and a hand full of clothing. That's it. Everything else they owned is gone. Even the trees that used to cover their mountain home are gone. As we were there, news reports were all focused on the wildfire currently raging in California. It's sad to think that this is happening to someone else right now.
But it was still good to see my aunt and uncle, and they are doing remarkably well. They're old enough that they've accepted it's not worth it to rebuild. So they're starting to look at new properties to buy. Last year, when I got sick, I came up with the new philosophy that anything that doesn't kill you makes you still alive. That appears to be just as true for fire as it is for serious illness. My aunt and uncle are still alive, and it was still enjoyable visiting them, even if they didn't have any unusual toys for my husband to oogle over.
What Inspires Me Right Now
One of my CP's lives in Denver. I was able to take a quick break from my manual labor vacation to visit with her. Meeting one of the real live people who's words I've enjoyed for years was a fun break. It was also a sorce of inspiration, because the words I write I write for real live people.
So What's Up With You?
September 3, 2013
Second Chance Summer
***Warning, this post contains spoilers.***
Today, I'm talking about Second Chance Summer by Morgan Matson. A lot of other people are talking about it too, because it was selected as this months book for the YA book club hosted by Tracey Neithercott and it's one of this months reading mutant challenge books at YA Buccaneers. I recommend you pop over to both of those sites to see what everyone else thinks about it too.
I would give this book 3.5 stars. I wanted to LOVE it, but I couldn't quite get there.
In the story, Taylor Edward's dad is diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and given four months to live. He decides the wants to spend his final months with his family at their cabin the Poconos. Taylor spent every summer at the cabin as a kid but for various reasons she hasn't been there four five years. When she last left, at age 12 she was in the middle of a big fight with her ex-best-friend and her ex-boyfriend. So she's afraid to return and face them both again, let alone face saying goodbye to her dad.
I absolutely loved the dad character. I thought he was the most well rounded character in the entire book and watching Taylor get closer to him at the same time as she was watching him die was beautiful and heart breaking. This father/daughter relationship is the reason why I wanted so desperately to love this book. Because I really did love this story-line.
What I didn't love was the friendship and boyfriend drama. The reader doesn't find out what the big fight that happened five years ago was about until halfway through the book. Building up to that point, I was going with the story and liking it mainly because I loved the family drama so much. But OMG, this is the stupidest fight ever! Once I figured out what was actually happening, I wanted to start hating Taylor.
The big issue that is still a big issue five years later was nothing more than a simple miscommunication. I can accept that 12 year olds can blow things out of proportion and young feelings could easily have been hurt. But this fight should have resolved itself in a few hours or at the very most a day or two, not five years!
I think the thing that bothered me the most about Taylor's character is that she was supposed to be a great friend, and she wasn't, at all. Her older brother is super smart and academics is his "thing". Her little sister is super into ballet. Taylor doesn't have a thing the way her siblings do, which is fine because lots of people take a long time to figure out what they are really interested in. But throughout the story, Taylor is described, often by herself, as being the social member of the family. She is good at making friends, finding love, etc, and has to help her siblings out. Except she is the worst friend ever! She constantly lies to her friends, not only when she was 12 but also when she's 17.
Despite these character problems, I still enjoyed reading this book because of the wonderful father/daughter relationship. This is easily the best book about parent mortality I've ever read. So even if I didn't end up loving it as much as I wanted to, I would still definitely recommend Second Chance Summer.
I know that a lot of other people are going to disagree with this halfhearted endorsement. If you actually liked Taylor's propensity to blow problems out of proportion and avoid honest communication, feel free to let me know in the comments. Also make sure to pop over to everyone else's posts for another prospective.
Today, I'm talking about Second Chance Summer by Morgan Matson. A lot of other people are talking about it too, because it was selected as this months book for the YA book club hosted by Tracey Neithercott and it's one of this months reading mutant challenge books at YA Buccaneers. I recommend you pop over to both of those sites to see what everyone else thinks about it too.
I would give this book 3.5 stars. I wanted to LOVE it, but I couldn't quite get there. In the story, Taylor Edward's dad is diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and given four months to live. He decides the wants to spend his final months with his family at their cabin the Poconos. Taylor spent every summer at the cabin as a kid but for various reasons she hasn't been there four five years. When she last left, at age 12 she was in the middle of a big fight with her ex-best-friend and her ex-boyfriend. So she's afraid to return and face them both again, let alone face saying goodbye to her dad.
I absolutely loved the dad character. I thought he was the most well rounded character in the entire book and watching Taylor get closer to him at the same time as she was watching him die was beautiful and heart breaking. This father/daughter relationship is the reason why I wanted so desperately to love this book. Because I really did love this story-line.
What I didn't love was the friendship and boyfriend drama. The reader doesn't find out what the big fight that happened five years ago was about until halfway through the book. Building up to that point, I was going with the story and liking it mainly because I loved the family drama so much. But OMG, this is the stupidest fight ever! Once I figured out what was actually happening, I wanted to start hating Taylor.
The big issue that is still a big issue five years later was nothing more than a simple miscommunication. I can accept that 12 year olds can blow things out of proportion and young feelings could easily have been hurt. But this fight should have resolved itself in a few hours or at the very most a day or two, not five years!
I think the thing that bothered me the most about Taylor's character is that she was supposed to be a great friend, and she wasn't, at all. Her older brother is super smart and academics is his "thing". Her little sister is super into ballet. Taylor doesn't have a thing the way her siblings do, which is fine because lots of people take a long time to figure out what they are really interested in. But throughout the story, Taylor is described, often by herself, as being the social member of the family. She is good at making friends, finding love, etc, and has to help her siblings out. Except she is the worst friend ever! She constantly lies to her friends, not only when she was 12 but also when she's 17.
Despite these character problems, I still enjoyed reading this book because of the wonderful father/daughter relationship. This is easily the best book about parent mortality I've ever read. So even if I didn't end up loving it as much as I wanted to, I would still definitely recommend Second Chance Summer.
I know that a lot of other people are going to disagree with this halfhearted endorsement. If you actually liked Taylor's propensity to blow problems out of proportion and avoid honest communication, feel free to let me know in the comments. Also make sure to pop over to everyone else's posts for another prospective.
September 2, 2013
Porsche's Story
What's Your Story?
I love to read, and write, because I love stories. Everyone has a story to tell. That's what makes this crazy world we live in so interesting. Every Monday, I'll interview a different person here and share their stories. At first glance, my guests may appear ordinary, but I promise they're not. They're people. And all people are fascinating. We all have a story to tell.
This week, I'm talking to Porsche Appleman. Porsche and I were friends in college and I'm thrilled that she's agreed to be my first non-writer to share her story. Even though she doesn't spend all her time dreaming up fictional lives for fictional people, she still has a very interesting life of her own.
So let's get started, Porsche, describe yourself in 50 words or less.I am a wife, and mother of 2. I am a stay at home mom and very proud of that job title!
You probably should have limited all my answers to 50 words or less, as being concise is NOT one of my strengths!
Being a mom is definitely a title to be proud of, and you have got two super cool kids to prove how great you are at your job. I love that you sent me a picture of your entire family to include with your story. But I still want to know more. What do you love most in the world?God, my husband Bryan, and my 2 children—Mircea and Casper.
On the side, I also love the signing time movies, twix candy bars, sunny summers, camping, my diva cup, Washington outdoor women, and my saladmaster cookware. Sorry, I know this is product placement—but I do really love them!
Oh, I don't have any problem with product placement. I've never heard of saladmaster, but if it made your love list, I might have to find some. So what do you fear most?I think I have the general fear that most parents have: I have never raised children before—So are we doing a good job, or scarring them for life? I am guessing the answer is: probably a little of both!!!--which is VERY scary! If you don’t think this is scary, then just remember all those sappy songs and quotes about how children are the future?!?!... and then come to the realization that they are talking about YOUR children being the future! Scary indeed!
Back in college, you were my sorority mom, and I turned out fine. If you can hand me at 18, I'm sure Mircea and Casper will turn out great. Um, maybe you should be scared. Now I want to know your largest unfulfilled dream, and what are you doing to reach it?I don’t really feel like I have unfulfilled dreams. Maybe I would rephrase it as future plans. I don’t have large plans, just regular ones like: move out to the country, become a doula, visit the cliff dwellings in AZ, learn a martial art,… I have lots of simple dreams! As to how am I going to reach it-- I just have to make plans. For example, this year is our 10 year anniversary. Instead of going on a large trip, we are going to do 10 dates for 10 years. Some dates will be reminiscent of dates we had in the past; like going to dinner at the restaurant we ate at on our wedding night, and others are things we haven’t done or would just really like to do: like learning glass blowing or riding go karts or going deep sea fishing, etc.
Porsche, this is why I love you. You are such a fun person to be around! And I think it's wonderful that you are already living your dreams so fully that all you want to do is keep living your awesome life. I think I need to come up with some harder questions for you though. So, what is the hardest thing you've ever done?Hmmmmmmmm, I think I will choose this last years’ experience for my answer. In February I broke my right arm at the end of the radius into the wrist joint. It was pain like I had never imagined, (and I have had 2 natural labor and childbirths). Anyway, I had surgery to have a plate put in that screwed the pieces of bone back in place.
When I went home, I was never able to get back on top of the pain, and I was not coping well at all. So I had the most miserable night of my life, and then went back the next day to see my doctor. My doctor saw me, touched my arm, and said, “get to the ER now, we need to do emergency surgery within the hour!”
What happened is I had developed “compartment syndrome”. This is where the muscle continues to swell; however, the skin can only stretch so far and then it stops stretching, but the muscle wants to keep swelling, so it starts compressing the blood vessels which help feed the arm, and so then the muscle and tissue, etc can die. If this happens, they have to cut your arm off.
What my doctor needed to do was cut my arm open and dig into my arm to release the muscles to allow them to swell and breathe so I could keep my arm. Needless to say I was a little freaked out with the idea that I could lose my arm.
My arm was cut open and I was attached to a wound vacuum for about a week. When it came time to sew up my arm, the worry then was that it would be too swollen to close, and so I would need a skin graft in that area. Thankfully, it was able to reclose without one.
But that wasn’t actually the hardest part—The hard part really started outside the hospital—it was dealing with pain, not able to drive, or cook, or really do anything, having therapy several times a week—and needing a ride, needing to get kids ready for school and then get to school, going through withdrawal from the pain meds, and really the list could go on and on. It was very overwhelming as I am a stay at home mom and my job description is: needing to do it all! I really had to learn to accept help when it was offered and to ask for help as well. What I learned was: People are awesome! So many wonderful people helped in a multitude of ways making life possible at our house, and letting our kids have some semblance of normal. (a side note: my daughter who is 7, had long, thick, blonde hair past her bottom. I was unable to comb or do her hair, and my husband tried to and said “I can’t do this every day”. So she was willing to donate her hair to locks of love and had it cut to her shoulders; so she could do her own hair for school. I was very proud of her, as that was a big sacrifice for a little girl who wanted to be RapunzelThe good news is: while I am not at 100% yet, I have come a long way! I can play the piano again—which I was really worried about, and I am pretty much attempting to do everything with my arm. Most times it cooperates! It just needs time to get stronger. And needless to say, I am very thankful that I still have my arm!
Wow, what an ordeal to go through. I'm so glad you're on the mend. I love that Mircea donated her hair after you got hurt so she could take care of it herself. You have such a wonderful family, and even if it's been hard, I know getting through this with them is what's made it possible.
Now that we've gotten to know each other, tell me a story. It can be long or short. From your childhood or last week. Funny, sad, or somewhere in between. Just make sure it's yours. What's your story?I think that I will tell a writing story as this is a writer’s blog:
Once upon a time, it was 6 am on a Thursday morning in November. Porsche was fast asleep in her bed, like any other normal person who doesn’t have to work until later in the day. Suddenly her phone rings. It jerks her awake and she answers the phone in that sleepy panic way that happens when you aren’t quite awake and someone calls you outside of humane calling hours and you just know it has to be bad news.
On the other end of the line is Porsche’s twin sister, Beth. She is a 3rd grade teacher and is getting ready to go to school that day. Without the customary greeting, she gets straight to the point, “I need a story about Turkeys and Principals, and I need it by 11am! Bye!” She then hangs up. Reality hits like a ton of bricks, Porsche’s subconscious was right, it WAS a 6am bad news call. And just like that, Porsche gets to experience a writing deadline that she hasn’t had to experience since college when she would procrastinate until the last minute to write her papers.
Precisely by 11am that morning, Beth (Ms Wandler) receives a story in her e-mail inbox about a Turkey who became a principal and how Ms Wandler and her class are a bunch of turkeys. There was also a note included that stated: You asked for a story, but said nothing about quality. Quality cannot happen in 4 hours, especially when it starts at 6am! (Please note that there are actually 5 hours between 6 and 11am, but one cannot be held accountable for that complicated type of math when woken up at such an obscene hour.)
The End
Epilogue: That story was read to Ms Wandlers class, who loved the fact they were in the story—proof they were indeed turkeys. Now, several years later, the story has also been read to Porsche’s children and her nieces and nephews who are all turkeys also.
Moral 1: Do not wake people up at 6am to write stories.
Moral 2: It doesn’t matter your talent or experience; your own kids will enjoy hearing stories you make up.
Well now I want to know the actual Turkey story. This was just the teaser! Thank you so much for answering all my questions! Even though we've been friends for years, still feel like I got to know you better. And I may need to invite you back in November to share your turkey story in a special Thanksgiving addition of What's Your Story. But until then, it's been great. And of course, I hope your arm continues to heal and your kids do great in school next year, and you stay just as wonderful as you always have been.
So what's your story? If you're interested in participating in a future installment of What's Your Story, please leave your contact information in the comments of this post or email me directly at katherine.elliott.scott(at)gmail.
I love to read, and write, because I love stories. Everyone has a story to tell. That's what makes this crazy world we live in so interesting. Every Monday, I'll interview a different person here and share their stories. At first glance, my guests may appear ordinary, but I promise they're not. They're people. And all people are fascinating. We all have a story to tell.
This week, I'm talking to Porsche Appleman. Porsche and I were friends in college and I'm thrilled that she's agreed to be my first non-writer to share her story. Even though she doesn't spend all her time dreaming up fictional lives for fictional people, she still has a very interesting life of her own.
So let's get started, Porsche, describe yourself in 50 words or less.I am a wife, and mother of 2. I am a stay at home mom and very proud of that job title!
You probably should have limited all my answers to 50 words or less, as being concise is NOT one of my strengths!
Being a mom is definitely a title to be proud of, and you have got two super cool kids to prove how great you are at your job. I love that you sent me a picture of your entire family to include with your story. But I still want to know more. What do you love most in the world?God, my husband Bryan, and my 2 children—Mircea and Casper.
On the side, I also love the signing time movies, twix candy bars, sunny summers, camping, my diva cup, Washington outdoor women, and my saladmaster cookware. Sorry, I know this is product placement—but I do really love them!
Oh, I don't have any problem with product placement. I've never heard of saladmaster, but if it made your love list, I might have to find some. So what do you fear most?I think I have the general fear that most parents have: I have never raised children before—So are we doing a good job, or scarring them for life? I am guessing the answer is: probably a little of both!!!--which is VERY scary! If you don’t think this is scary, then just remember all those sappy songs and quotes about how children are the future?!?!... and then come to the realization that they are talking about YOUR children being the future! Scary indeed!
Back in college, you were my sorority mom, and I turned out fine. If you can hand me at 18, I'm sure Mircea and Casper will turn out great. Um, maybe you should be scared. Now I want to know your largest unfulfilled dream, and what are you doing to reach it?I don’t really feel like I have unfulfilled dreams. Maybe I would rephrase it as future plans. I don’t have large plans, just regular ones like: move out to the country, become a doula, visit the cliff dwellings in AZ, learn a martial art,… I have lots of simple dreams! As to how am I going to reach it-- I just have to make plans. For example, this year is our 10 year anniversary. Instead of going on a large trip, we are going to do 10 dates for 10 years. Some dates will be reminiscent of dates we had in the past; like going to dinner at the restaurant we ate at on our wedding night, and others are things we haven’t done or would just really like to do: like learning glass blowing or riding go karts or going deep sea fishing, etc.
Porsche, this is why I love you. You are such a fun person to be around! And I think it's wonderful that you are already living your dreams so fully that all you want to do is keep living your awesome life. I think I need to come up with some harder questions for you though. So, what is the hardest thing you've ever done?Hmmmmmmmm, I think I will choose this last years’ experience for my answer. In February I broke my right arm at the end of the radius into the wrist joint. It was pain like I had never imagined, (and I have had 2 natural labor and childbirths). Anyway, I had surgery to have a plate put in that screwed the pieces of bone back in place.
When I went home, I was never able to get back on top of the pain, and I was not coping well at all. So I had the most miserable night of my life, and then went back the next day to see my doctor. My doctor saw me, touched my arm, and said, “get to the ER now, we need to do emergency surgery within the hour!”
What happened is I had developed “compartment syndrome”. This is where the muscle continues to swell; however, the skin can only stretch so far and then it stops stretching, but the muscle wants to keep swelling, so it starts compressing the blood vessels which help feed the arm, and so then the muscle and tissue, etc can die. If this happens, they have to cut your arm off.
What my doctor needed to do was cut my arm open and dig into my arm to release the muscles to allow them to swell and breathe so I could keep my arm. Needless to say I was a little freaked out with the idea that I could lose my arm.
My arm was cut open and I was attached to a wound vacuum for about a week. When it came time to sew up my arm, the worry then was that it would be too swollen to close, and so I would need a skin graft in that area. Thankfully, it was able to reclose without one.
But that wasn’t actually the hardest part—The hard part really started outside the hospital—it was dealing with pain, not able to drive, or cook, or really do anything, having therapy several times a week—and needing a ride, needing to get kids ready for school and then get to school, going through withdrawal from the pain meds, and really the list could go on and on. It was very overwhelming as I am a stay at home mom and my job description is: needing to do it all! I really had to learn to accept help when it was offered and to ask for help as well. What I learned was: People are awesome! So many wonderful people helped in a multitude of ways making life possible at our house, and letting our kids have some semblance of normal. (a side note: my daughter who is 7, had long, thick, blonde hair past her bottom. I was unable to comb or do her hair, and my husband tried to and said “I can’t do this every day”. So she was willing to donate her hair to locks of love and had it cut to her shoulders; so she could do her own hair for school. I was very proud of her, as that was a big sacrifice for a little girl who wanted to be RapunzelThe good news is: while I am not at 100% yet, I have come a long way! I can play the piano again—which I was really worried about, and I am pretty much attempting to do everything with my arm. Most times it cooperates! It just needs time to get stronger. And needless to say, I am very thankful that I still have my arm!
Wow, what an ordeal to go through. I'm so glad you're on the mend. I love that Mircea donated her hair after you got hurt so she could take care of it herself. You have such a wonderful family, and even if it's been hard, I know getting through this with them is what's made it possible.
Now that we've gotten to know each other, tell me a story. It can be long or short. From your childhood or last week. Funny, sad, or somewhere in between. Just make sure it's yours. What's your story?I think that I will tell a writing story as this is a writer’s blog:
Once upon a time, it was 6 am on a Thursday morning in November. Porsche was fast asleep in her bed, like any other normal person who doesn’t have to work until later in the day. Suddenly her phone rings. It jerks her awake and she answers the phone in that sleepy panic way that happens when you aren’t quite awake and someone calls you outside of humane calling hours and you just know it has to be bad news.
On the other end of the line is Porsche’s twin sister, Beth. She is a 3rd grade teacher and is getting ready to go to school that day. Without the customary greeting, she gets straight to the point, “I need a story about Turkeys and Principals, and I need it by 11am! Bye!” She then hangs up. Reality hits like a ton of bricks, Porsche’s subconscious was right, it WAS a 6am bad news call. And just like that, Porsche gets to experience a writing deadline that she hasn’t had to experience since college when she would procrastinate until the last minute to write her papers.
Precisely by 11am that morning, Beth (Ms Wandler) receives a story in her e-mail inbox about a Turkey who became a principal and how Ms Wandler and her class are a bunch of turkeys. There was also a note included that stated: You asked for a story, but said nothing about quality. Quality cannot happen in 4 hours, especially when it starts at 6am! (Please note that there are actually 5 hours between 6 and 11am, but one cannot be held accountable for that complicated type of math when woken up at such an obscene hour.)
The End
Epilogue: That story was read to Ms Wandlers class, who loved the fact they were in the story—proof they were indeed turkeys. Now, several years later, the story has also been read to Porsche’s children and her nieces and nephews who are all turkeys also.
Moral 1: Do not wake people up at 6am to write stories.
Moral 2: It doesn’t matter your talent or experience; your own kids will enjoy hearing stories you make up.
Well now I want to know the actual Turkey story. This was just the teaser! Thank you so much for answering all my questions! Even though we've been friends for years, still feel like I got to know you better. And I may need to invite you back in November to share your turkey story in a special Thanksgiving addition of What's Your Story. But until then, it's been great. And of course, I hope your arm continues to heal and your kids do great in school next year, and you stay just as wonderful as you always have been.
So what's your story? If you're interested in participating in a future installment of What's Your Story, please leave your contact information in the comments of this post or email me directly at katherine.elliott.scott(at)gmail.
August 29, 2013
My Secret Love Affair with Stories
It still surprises me sometimes that I’m an author. Me. I’m crazy dyslexic, and the first time I read a book for pleasure, I was in my twenties. But even if I couldn’t always read books, I have always loved books. I listened to A LOT of audiobooks growing up. And I made up a lot of stories as a kid too. I was always telling stories and inventing characters in my head. I just never bothered to write them down, ‘cause I didn’t know the alphabet.
As a kid, I was always good at math and science. It’s easier to do mental math than mental reading. So I was a smart geeky kid that didn’t read. I captained the mathleates and took every advanced science class my school offered, and then I went home and listened to every audiobook I could get my hands on.
While in high school, I listened to an average of 200 audiobooks per year. But thanks to my dyslexia, my school kept me in remedial English. When I got to college, I was shocked to discover I was better “read” than all of my literate classmates. I understood obscure literary references, because I’d listened to all the great books being referenced.
I thought I was going to be a math major. I was good at math. People had been telling me that forever. It was okay that I sucked at reading, because I was good at math. But math isn’t as fun as a great story, I’m sorry it’s just not. I wanted to major in English. God, that would have been fun. Nobody ever told me I couldn’t. I told myself I couldn’t. I didn’t read. It was okay to listen to the audio version of my science textbooks, but I couldn’t major in English and listen to all the required reading. It would have been cheating. I would have been a fraud. So I compromised, and majored in Anthropology instead.
Anthropology was really interesting. It’s the study of human culture. So I got to hear lots of cool stories about fascinating people from different cultures. I liked all my anthropology classes. But I liked the two English classes I let myself take as electives even more. After I graduated, I realized Anthropology is a kind of pointless major. I could have gotten a PhD, maybe become an archeologist or something fun like that. But I knew anthropology had always been a runner up major, my heart wasn’t in it. I couldn’t bring myself to study it more in grad school.
So I became an engineer instead. That’s what I was supposed to be. When I was an illiterate little kid that was good at spouting out big numbers, people always told me “when you grow up, you’re going to be an engineer.” That’s what I was supposed to do. That is what smart illiterate people are supposed to want to do. So I did it. I went back to school and got a second degree, in civil engineering.
I’m now a licensed environmental engineer. I clean up superfund sites for a living. That in itself could be considered a dyslexia success story. But I hate engineering even more than I hated anthropology. I can do it; I’m even kind of good at it. But I’ve never loved it. What I love is stories, not chemistry.
There was a point, shortly after I got my first engineering job, when I thought about getting an MBA. I’ve always been sort of bossy and I thought maybe learning more about business would help me move up in the engineering world to a more interesting position.
When I took the GMAT, I was nervous about it. At age 16, the SAT had been really hard for me, ‘cause I sucked at reading. I’d been literate for years by the time I took the GMAT, and managed to read all the questions without any problems, and thankfully I knew all the answers.
My math score was well above average, but still lower than I’d expected it to be. I was an engineer after all. But the real shocker was my verbal score. It was more than 150 points higher than my math score. And on the writing section of the GMAT, I got a perfect score. I was totally stunned when I saw the test results. I was a dyslexic engineer, there had to be a mistake.
That was the moment when I finally accepted the truth. I didn’t want to get an MBA any more than I’d wanted to major in Anthropology or Engineering. I wanted to read stories, and write stories. So I “forgot” to send in my business school application. Instead of taking finance classes in the evenings and weekends, I started writing.
And now, eight years later, COUNTING TO D is being published. I never did major in English. But that’s okay. I’m still reading lots of great books, and I’m writing them too. And my love affair with stories isn’t a secret anymore.
As a kid, I was always good at math and science. It’s easier to do mental math than mental reading. So I was a smart geeky kid that didn’t read. I captained the mathleates and took every advanced science class my school offered, and then I went home and listened to every audiobook I could get my hands on.
While in high school, I listened to an average of 200 audiobooks per year. But thanks to my dyslexia, my school kept me in remedial English. When I got to college, I was shocked to discover I was better “read” than all of my literate classmates. I understood obscure literary references, because I’d listened to all the great books being referenced.
I thought I was going to be a math major. I was good at math. People had been telling me that forever. It was okay that I sucked at reading, because I was good at math. But math isn’t as fun as a great story, I’m sorry it’s just not. I wanted to major in English. God, that would have been fun. Nobody ever told me I couldn’t. I told myself I couldn’t. I didn’t read. It was okay to listen to the audio version of my science textbooks, but I couldn’t major in English and listen to all the required reading. It would have been cheating. I would have been a fraud. So I compromised, and majored in Anthropology instead.
Anthropology was really interesting. It’s the study of human culture. So I got to hear lots of cool stories about fascinating people from different cultures. I liked all my anthropology classes. But I liked the two English classes I let myself take as electives even more. After I graduated, I realized Anthropology is a kind of pointless major. I could have gotten a PhD, maybe become an archeologist or something fun like that. But I knew anthropology had always been a runner up major, my heart wasn’t in it. I couldn’t bring myself to study it more in grad school.
So I became an engineer instead. That’s what I was supposed to be. When I was an illiterate little kid that was good at spouting out big numbers, people always told me “when you grow up, you’re going to be an engineer.” That’s what I was supposed to do. That is what smart illiterate people are supposed to want to do. So I did it. I went back to school and got a second degree, in civil engineering.
I’m now a licensed environmental engineer. I clean up superfund sites for a living. That in itself could be considered a dyslexia success story. But I hate engineering even more than I hated anthropology. I can do it; I’m even kind of good at it. But I’ve never loved it. What I love is stories, not chemistry.
There was a point, shortly after I got my first engineering job, when I thought about getting an MBA. I’ve always been sort of bossy and I thought maybe learning more about business would help me move up in the engineering world to a more interesting position.
When I took the GMAT, I was nervous about it. At age 16, the SAT had been really hard for me, ‘cause I sucked at reading. I’d been literate for years by the time I took the GMAT, and managed to read all the questions without any problems, and thankfully I knew all the answers.
My math score was well above average, but still lower than I’d expected it to be. I was an engineer after all. But the real shocker was my verbal score. It was more than 150 points higher than my math score. And on the writing section of the GMAT, I got a perfect score. I was totally stunned when I saw the test results. I was a dyslexic engineer, there had to be a mistake.
That was the moment when I finally accepted the truth. I didn’t want to get an MBA any more than I’d wanted to major in Anthropology or Engineering. I wanted to read stories, and write stories. So I “forgot” to send in my business school application. Instead of taking finance classes in the evenings and weekends, I started writing.
And now, eight years later, COUNTING TO D is being published. I never did major in English. But that’s okay. I’m still reading lots of great books, and I’m writing them too. And my love affair with stories isn’t a secret anymore.
August 26, 2013
Medeia's Story
What's Your Story?
I love to read, and write, because I love stories. Everyone has a story to tell. That's what makes this crazy world we live in so interesting. Every Monday, I'll interview a different person here and share their stories. At first glance, my guests may appear ordinary, but I promise they're not. They're people. And all people are fascinating. We all have a story to tell.
This week, I'm talking to Medeia Sharif. Medeia writes both young adult and middle grade fiction and is the author of Bestest Ramadan Ever. As someone who spends her time creating fiction, I'm excited to find out a little more about the stories behind the stories, aka the author herself. So without further ado, let's get started.
Medeia, describe yourself in 50 words or less.I believe in brevity, so I’ll use three words: introverted, nerdy, and kind.
Being introverted, nerdy, and kind are all great things. Tell me more. What do you love most in the world?Literature. I love writing and reading.
Me too, there is nothing better than a great story. So what do you fear most?I’m afraid of losing control. I become agitated when I can’t control a situation and if someone tries to control me. I get upset, become avoidant since I’m not argumentative, and sometimes I lose my temper. Mild discomfort can lead to full panic mode. I don't want anyone or anything compromising my freedom.
Eek, that's no good. I'll make sure to never try and control you. Thanks for agreeing to answer my somewhat controlling questions. Now I want to know your largest unfulfilled dream, and what are you doing to reach it?I always wanted to be a multi-published author with my name on several books. Now with one book behind me, I’m still trying hard to fulfill that dream. The industry can be brutal and there’s a lot of subjectivity, but I keep at it. I’m working on various manuscripts and submitting projects.
Having read and enjoyed your one book, I sincerely hope you reach that dream for the purely selfish reason that I want to read your other books. I'm sure you will get there. So, what is the hardest thing you've ever done?In my twenties, I became independent with my own place and source of income. This was no easy thing since I grew up sheltered. Things were hard at first and there was so much to be afraid of. After numerous adjustments, I eventually became resourceful and self-reliant.
Being a grownup has it's benifits, but there are still times when I wish I could go back to the carefree nature of childhood. I agree gaining independence and self-reliance aren't easy tasks to achieve. If you can do that, there's know way you can't get another book published. Now that we've gotten to know each other, tell me a story. It can be long or short. From your childhood or last week. Funny, sad, or somewhere in between. Just make sure it's yours. What's your story?Last spring break I visited my childhood neighborhood, the one I spent the first ten years of my life in. I hadn’t seen the area in twenty-six years. I remember emerging from the subway early in the afternoon with my heart pounding. Because of the time of day, the parks and residential streets weren't heavily populated. Anytime I was alone, I went ahead and talked to myself. I said things like, “Wow, it’s changed,” or “It’s the same,” or “Oh my God, it’s beautiful.” I went through parks, admired the river view, walked past my old apartment building, and traveled on familiar streets. I didn’t cry or anything, but it was an emotional experience.
I imagine that return to an old familiar place was not only a great experience for you as a person but also for you as a writer. Thank you, for sharing your story. I definitely feel like I now have a better understanding of who you are. And I'll definitely be waiting to read that second book.
So what's your story? If you're interested in participating in a future installment of What's Your Story, please leave your contact information in the comments of this post or email me directly at katherine.elliott.scott(at)gmail.
I love to read, and write, because I love stories. Everyone has a story to tell. That's what makes this crazy world we live in so interesting. Every Monday, I'll interview a different person here and share their stories. At first glance, my guests may appear ordinary, but I promise they're not. They're people. And all people are fascinating. We all have a story to tell.
This week, I'm talking to Medeia Sharif. Medeia writes both young adult and middle grade fiction and is the author of Bestest Ramadan Ever. As someone who spends her time creating fiction, I'm excited to find out a little more about the stories behind the stories, aka the author herself. So without further ado, let's get started.
Medeia, describe yourself in 50 words or less.I believe in brevity, so I’ll use three words: introverted, nerdy, and kind.
Being introverted, nerdy, and kind are all great things. Tell me more. What do you love most in the world?Literature. I love writing and reading.
Me too, there is nothing better than a great story. So what do you fear most?I’m afraid of losing control. I become agitated when I can’t control a situation and if someone tries to control me. I get upset, become avoidant since I’m not argumentative, and sometimes I lose my temper. Mild discomfort can lead to full panic mode. I don't want anyone or anything compromising my freedom.
Eek, that's no good. I'll make sure to never try and control you. Thanks for agreeing to answer my somewhat controlling questions. Now I want to know your largest unfulfilled dream, and what are you doing to reach it?I always wanted to be a multi-published author with my name on several books. Now with one book behind me, I’m still trying hard to fulfill that dream. The industry can be brutal and there’s a lot of subjectivity, but I keep at it. I’m working on various manuscripts and submitting projects.
Having read and enjoyed your one book, I sincerely hope you reach that dream for the purely selfish reason that I want to read your other books. I'm sure you will get there. So, what is the hardest thing you've ever done?In my twenties, I became independent with my own place and source of income. This was no easy thing since I grew up sheltered. Things were hard at first and there was so much to be afraid of. After numerous adjustments, I eventually became resourceful and self-reliant.
Being a grownup has it's benifits, but there are still times when I wish I could go back to the carefree nature of childhood. I agree gaining independence and self-reliance aren't easy tasks to achieve. If you can do that, there's know way you can't get another book published. Now that we've gotten to know each other, tell me a story. It can be long or short. From your childhood or last week. Funny, sad, or somewhere in between. Just make sure it's yours. What's your story?Last spring break I visited my childhood neighborhood, the one I spent the first ten years of my life in. I hadn’t seen the area in twenty-six years. I remember emerging from the subway early in the afternoon with my heart pounding. Because of the time of day, the parks and residential streets weren't heavily populated. Anytime I was alone, I went ahead and talked to myself. I said things like, “Wow, it’s changed,” or “It’s the same,” or “Oh my God, it’s beautiful.” I went through parks, admired the river view, walked past my old apartment building, and traveled on familiar streets. I didn’t cry or anything, but it was an emotional experience.
I imagine that return to an old familiar place was not only a great experience for you as a person but also for you as a writer. Thank you, for sharing your story. I definitely feel like I now have a better understanding of who you are. And I'll definitely be waiting to read that second book.
So what's your story? If you're interested in participating in a future installment of What's Your Story, please leave your contact information in the comments of this post or email me directly at katherine.elliott.scott(at)gmail.
