Yes, You Are (essay)
The Great Write Way, Chapter Two: Twice upon a time...
A place for Buffistas to discuss, beta and otherwise deal and dish on their non-fan fiction projects.
Dayum, Cindy, you're quick. I was about to ask to see it. Excellent!
Now I'm wondering if Jesse's apartment is yellow...
YELLOW
I’m not entirely sold on the apartment, but it’s big enough, and convenient enough, and I can afford it, so I move in. Each morning, I am awoken by the sun streaming in my east-facing bedroom windows, and I love it. I decide to paint, something I’ve never done before. I think I’m still trying to talk myself into this place, make it mine. The paint company calls the color dandelion, but truly, it’s the color of sunshine, of happiness. My mother asks how I can sleep in such a bright room. I tell her I just close my eyes.
But that line about screw the movement? Was said to me in all seriousness by far too many "post-feminist" women. I hear it a LOT, mostly by twenty and thirty-somethings.
Interesting. I think I've heard that much more often from people in my parents' generation, most often accompanied by a, "Oh, you're a feminist? Isn't that cute! I used to be one -- you'll grow out of it."
t /off topic
Hmm. Yellow. I think I've got an idea for something, but need to figure out how to get it from a bunch of images into words.
I can't tell you how amazing I find that sentence, and how happy it makes me.
Is it still happy-making if I admit it's to use as a mere plot device? ;-D I was just trying to ensure that I knew what I thought I knew. Which, it turns out, not quite. There is some amazing stuff out there, and the ramifications just make my little sci-fi heart go ka-thomp.
Can you talk about the Notebook of Doom?
Of course! It's just a spiral-bound wide-ruled school notebook my kids didn't need (although, I do tend to swipe a few, whether they need them or not), that I've found handy to have with me, wherever, in case something pops into my brain that I want to catch.
It's really a hybrid of the fiction I'm working on, ranty-rants, top ten lists of why I don't want to be a security guard (for example), stupid things people do, which then all gets rewritten as I type it up either on my LiveJournal or wherever.
And, naturally, I wrote "Notebook of Doom" on the cover. I'm very literal-minded.
Cindy, I liked that article a lot. Breaks it down to the basics and makes you take a really close look at the word and what it means. It covers a lot more ground than the way many people use it. Thanks for the link!
Cindy, I'd read that article, damn it - love it. It breaks it down and I think she misses a few points but that's only because she's keeping it so straightforward. I remember being given shit by a Very Very Left of Feminist Famous Science Fiction Writer, about how I couldn't possibly be a feminist - I was wearing designer clothes. Yeah well, BITE ME, honey. I was on the frontlines before you discovered earth shoes and decided deodorant was Satan's Little Helper.
I think I've heard that much more often from people in my parents' generation, most often accompanied by a, "Oh, you're a feminist? Isn't that cute! I used to be one -- you'll grow out of it."
I've met a couple of those in my generation, but they're, er, dead now.
Jesse, that was fun, and doubly so because we recently went painting everything a colour called Devonshire Cream: warm white with a yellow undertint. It's remarkably cheering.
Maria, I'm amazed your kids can keep their hands off the NoD, with that written across the cover.
Yeah, well. They'd have to pry it out of my grip. ;-D
"You'll get my Notebook of Doom when you pry it out of my cold, dead hands!"
'Sright!