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"We'll only hire people who have spent hundreds of hours and thousands of dollars to get a fancy certification that doesn't teach you anything that we can't teach you on the job" is some real classist bullshit, let me tell you.
I saw the floofiest dog! A pomeranian, I think? It was like 20% dog and 80% floof!
A lot of the stuff I wrote as a teenager was, I believe "cringey" is what the youth are calling it these days.
Super-powerful, highly attractive characters who could do whatever the heck they wanted to do, which was mostly saving the world and raising happy families, and everyone loved them except the villains who were always soundly and embarrassingly defeated in the end. Certainly nothing that will go into the American literary canon.
But honestly? "Create a great work of literature that people will read for hundreds of years" hadn't been my goal. I wrote in order to cope with the miserable life I was going through at the time, to cheer myself up and to imagine what a better future would look like, and also to entertain my friends (who wrote similarly "cringeworthy" stuff).
And in that, I succeeded. As a bonus, I also got better at writing: how to build a consistent and interesting character, how to make a world for them to inhabit, how to string together sentences so that they didn't sound wooden and hollow, how to keep myself motivated to write more than a hundred words in one setting.
Still, even if my writing skills had crystallized when I was thirteen, the joy that I and my friends got from writing together would have been worth it all. It wasn't about "quality" according to whatever strangers on the internet defined that as.
Super-powerful, highly attractive characters who could do whatever the heck they wanted to do, which was mostly saving the world and raising happy families, and everyone loved them except the villains who were always soundly and embarrassingly defeated in the end. Certainly nothing that will go into the American literary canon.
But honestly? "Create a great work of literature that people will read for hundreds of years" hadn't been my goal. I wrote in order to cope with the miserable life I was going through at the time, to cheer myself up and to imagine what a better future would look like, and also to entertain my friends (who wrote similarly "cringeworthy" stuff).
And in that, I succeeded. As a bonus, I also got better at writing: how to build a consistent and interesting character, how to make a world for them to inhabit, how to string together sentences so that they didn't sound wooden and hollow, how to keep myself motivated to write more than a hundred words in one setting.
Still, even if my writing skills had crystallized when I was thirteen, the joy that I and my friends got from writing together would have been worth it all. It wasn't about "quality" according to whatever strangers on the internet defined that as.
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I think my mother did the best she could in this case, but damn - being six and suddenly being told to pack a bag of stuff because we're moving to a country very far away where you don't know the language?
NOT FUN.
NOT FUN.
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Do you ever get the thought, like... "I literally have fifteen or so diagnosable mental health conditions because of a horrible childhood layered upon some crap genetics, and I only developed the ability to have functional relationships in the last five years, so how the heck am I the most stable, competent person in this room full of people with happier childhoods and less disordered brains?"
Because I get this thought at least once a week and it makes me feel like I entered some really weird parallel universe each time.
Because I get this thought at least once a week and it makes me feel like I entered some really weird parallel universe each time.
WHAT THE HELL IS THE POINT OF STORM INSURANCE THAT DOESN'T COVER BREAKABLE OBJECTS?
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I'm being a bit facetious here, but the general idea is correct: the fall of communism probably caused the joint problems I have today.
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