Quoth the emo maybe-pire… EVERMORE

I’ve completely broken my ban on reading while writing this week because frankly…it was KILLING ME.  As I told my parents, I instituted the ban because the ‘voices in my head’ would get mixed up and I didn’t want what I was reading to impact what I was writing…my parents know enough by now just to say “uh-huh” and ask about the dog.

So I splurged. I went to Barnes and Noble (because my indie, The Tattered Cover, which is located ACROSS THE STREET FROM A HUGE HIGH SCHOOL has the WORST YA SECTION I’VE EVER SEEN). When I left, I was toting EVERMORE by Alyson Noel, FADE by Lisa McMann, BLISS by Lauren Myracle, and a non-black-market copy of CRACKED UP TO BE by Courtney Summers to go next to my um…*cough*blackmarket*cough* copy. I would have walked out with DUST OF 100 DOGS by A.S. King, but B&N was OUT – so I shook my fist at them and ordered it, and will have to wait.

So I decided to start with EVERMORE because it is completely new and I’ve never read Ms. Noel before, and I know several other people who have read it/will be reading it and we’re going to Twitter-Book-Club it – which is the ONLY was to book club (140 characters or less), if you ask me. Anyway, I’m about 2/3 through it and…

WHY did I not have this book in high school?? This would have been sooooo up my emo little alley! Srsly, aside from the car-accident-killed-family-leaving-her-with-psychic-abilities thing, I could have been Ever in HS. But I don’t understand something… I totally did the 90′s equivalent of hiding in the hoodie not talking to ANYONE, not looking at ANYONE, and trying my very hardest NOT TO BE NOTICED – just like Ever. If iPods had been invented, I might have stitched a secret pocket into all my hoodies just like Ever …if I could have convinced myself I wouldn’t get in trouble for it, because the biggest thing to me in HS besides trying hard to be noticed not getting noticed was NOT GETTING IN TROUBLE. I never *once* had a late pass. Ever. Though I cut class. A lot. Like Ever.

But for all of my emo-before-emo-existed-hood-wearing don’t-talk-to-me I’m-so-pre-emo-I-must-be-some-undiscovered-level-of-frumpy-sexy antics in high school…NO AMAZINGLY HOT GUY WHO JUST MIGHT BE A VAMPIRE EVER FELL IN LOVE WITH ME DESPITE MY EFFORTS. I still don’t get it. I tried my hardest. I wore jeans that didn’t fit, big flannel shirts, I ~never~ did my hair (not that that’s changed), and my legs haven’t seen the sun since 1992. I sat at the back of the class day in and day out, ate lunch by myself, and sent off such great don’t-talk-to-me vibes that the male half of the “class couple” accused me in European History of being a ‘man-hater’ (he *obviously* was NOT a sexy maybe-vampire).

So I don’t know…maybe it’s better that I didn’t have EVERMORE to obsess over at 16. I might’ve felt all validated, and then been left to question myself. I might’ve tried to be in a car accident to gain psychic powers to attract the maybe-pire, and would probably have just ended up in the special ed room. I guess we’ll never know.

But OMG, in 140 characters or less – I HEART THIS BOOK.

On Kurt Cobain and Career Inspiration at Age 13 (Mortified Style)

April 5, 1994 – fifteen years ago, the day Grunge lost its king.

I’ve been thinking about Kurt Cobain lately. I was never really a big grunge kid – don’t get me wrong, I owned my share of flannel and gave head-banging a good middle-school try before it gave me a splitting headache. But I was born with one foot firmly planted in Generation X and the other with it’s toe in the Millenial Generation. I loved Nirvana – Nevermind and the MTV Unplugged album remind me of parties at my best friend’s house where all we did was listen to music and talk because we weren’t quite old enough to get ourselves into trouble. I would later betray Grunge for Electronica and Trip Hop, but for those filthy gold-plated middle school days in the early 90s…there was nothing better. Could we have asked for a better anthem than Smells Like Teen Spirit?

But then one day after school at my friend Gill’s house, we were all hanging out having good clean fun, talking about who liked who, wondering out loud about the mysteries of high school when…MTV News rose out of the background, and brought our conversation to a grinding halt. Legendary ageless MTV News anchor Kurt Loder came on screen to tell us that Cobain shot himself.

And so last night – fifteen years later – I paid solemn tribute to the man by playing Lithium on my laptop at 2:00 AM. Since I’m only a little older than Cobain was when he died, I reflected on where I had been in life then, and everything that has happened since. I started thinking about where my 13yo self thought I might be in 2009, fifteen years after Cobain’s death…and then it occured to me: I Wrote About That Day In MY JOURNAL.

And when I found the entry it was truly ~embarrassing~ as I feared, but it was also something I didn’t expect…freakishly inspiring.

In a thirteen-years-old kind of way.

So without further ado, and in true Mortified style, I give you the April 10, 1994 excerpt of The Journal of Emily Hainsworth, age 13yrs, 11mos. It is one part historical perspective on events in pop culture, and one part musings on personal career goals - painstakingly transcribed exactly as it was written fifteen LONG years ago…and delivered with the brutal honesty and pure can-do attitude only a 13 year-old can convey:


Whoa! Its been a while since I’ve written. I’m kinda depressed. (not unusual) Kurdt Kobain (Curt Cobain) killed himself about three days ago. He was the lead singer of Nirvana, one of the top five bands in America and one of my favorites. He was kinda cute too. It figures, the cute ones are always either gay, dead, dying, homosidal (sic), or married/girlfriend. Oh well. His wife is on heroin and he had just gotten out of a coma in the hospital. He has a cute little girl too. I feel very sorry for her. When she grows up we’ll probly hear about her holding up a store or running naked through the streets protesting sexism. Anyway her dad blew his head off with a gun. (He was only 27 years old) What a way to go. I hope he had plenty of Tylenol.

Oh, I went to the Nottingham [High School] musical INTO THE WOODS. It was very cool, but long. I can’t decide what to be when I grow up. I kinda wanna be an actress, but having second thoughts about it. The stress, the assassination risk. I want to go down in history remembered and well liked, but not like that. I love to Act, but I don’t think I could handle the pressure. I COULD however be a writer. That way I can make all my fantasies come true. I put my stuff on paper, publish it, and whala! (spelling could help though) And maybe I’d finally get to meet the great Christopher Pike. When you write, you can make anything happen. I will seriousley (sic) consider this.

Emily :)

Me Fail

Consider this the public stocks. A place of learning.

Someone please throw tomatoes at me – preferably rotten ones. Have I ever mentioned I hate tomatoes?

Recently, I swapped 50 pages with someone. We were trying each other on for size as CPs. Now, I have a long sordid history trying to find a great critique partner… I have searched the mountains high and the valleys low on my quest for a CP that *fits*. So when I glimpsed this person on the horizon and thought, “Hmmm…” I held back hope.

BUT SHE WAS WONDERFUL. She ~got~ my writing, had ~amazing~ useful suggestions, and did I mention she RAWKS? I was so impressed by her speed and skill, even before she was finished, that I hopped to it and completely immersed myself in her work. And IT WAS WONDERFUL TOO. Her story grabbed hold of me, her characters made me feel…I turned on Word comments and went to town with praise, and suggestions where needed.

Then I wrote this special someone a big long email going over the major points, but saying “more details in comments.” And then I hit send.

For a whole week, I made sure to tell her what a great CP she was, and how her comments were so helpful! I fixed all the places she found in my own 50 pages that needed work. Then I sent it BACK to her, and she read through AGAIN in one night!

And THEN she mentioned (with a true honest internet smile) that she couldn’t wait to see the feedback I had for HER book.

And I was like ??? And then I was like (O_O) And THEN I was like *DIES*

I went through EVERY email we exchanged (there were many – we have much in common), and there were many attached files…but not the 50 pages I supposedly sent with praise and comments! So in thirty seconds I ATTACHED, wrote self-berating email, and hit send.

And the best part is…she is STILL amazing…and STILL talking to me!

So the moral of this blog entry is…RECIPROCATE. And even when you THINK you’ve done it right…CHECK. No one wants to lose an amazing CP like a green flash on the horizon. I am lucky my heretofore-CP-luck didn’t catch up with me! This MAY in fact, be the start of something beautiful… :)