Final days

EDIT: I just deleted part of this post (about the difference between males and females when if comes to perceptivness of the other sex) because it's impossible to gauge people's tone in print and misreading it does more harm than good.

These are a couple of my more fun India photos. India has been a frequent setting for my dreams lately, which I never expected to happen but I'm certainly glad I've been able to go back, if only while sleeping.





I've finally made it to my last week of work and I'm ecstatic, but also feeling very, very lazy. I know I can't slack off now. Just need to tell my self one more week! (Three days really.)

I love reporting. I love it when it's at it's best - when the topics are interesting, when I'm learning, when I find creative/interesting/lyrical or image-based ways of telling the stories. I know more about the inner workings of towns than most people on earth, having covered everyhting from heated selectmen meetings to any kind of land controversy imaginable, to Marines, to Death and birth and illness.

When you're the press. People love you and hate you. They tell you things they would never, otherwise, tell a stranger. For some odd reason (reasons being, reporters find fabulous ways of winning people's hearts and people just love the attention)they talk to you like an old friend. They get angry when you expose them. Though I've done minimal exposing, there were instances where people were not very happy with me- or should I say, themselves.

Sometimes I think about how far I could take reporting if I really put effort into it, if I didn't go the fiction route. But bottom line, it's just not creative enough for me.

I remember when my Adv. reporting professor asked me what my plans were after graduation. Back then it was to go to Luxembourg to Au Pair for a year and then get into an MFA. I told him. This guy liked me, and thought I had talent as a journalist. I think he was a little miffed when I told him my plan.

He said, "What, journalism isn't creative enough for you?"

Nope. Sure isn't.

That being said, I think I could write an entire novel set in a small town now.


After a couple-weeks of unfocused mind-scramble, I've been back to work on some short stories. Problem is, I'm worried I'm not pushing it enough with plot, not taking enough risks or using my creativity enough. My biggest fear is creating work that seems inauthentic or lacking depth, which I feel I am producing more when I go out there. I'm hoping this will go away in school. I'm hoping to learn how to stretch.

I don't post fiction on here anymore because who knows, maybe one day someone will pay me for it. But I'd love to share with anyone who wants to read and/or critique so if you leave some sort of contact info, I'll get it to you.

Also, I know my blog was richer with non-fic stories in the past. And I sincerely with I could do more of that. But in truth, I don't have the time. On top of that, I am surrounded by the people I'd most likely write about (with some exception) and that makes it difficult, too.