Nothing Special - a childhood memory turned life lesson

Yesterday, I had a random memory pop into my head out of nowhere. When I was about nine years-old, I remember that my dream was to become a cartoonist. The idea of being a writer wasn't even on my radar, despite having written several short stories at that time. No, I wanted to draw cartoons, and I remember sitting in class and spending a lot of time drawing random things, cartoon characters and superheroes and the like. I had several books on how to draw that I would work from when I was home, and I loved drawing so much that my favorite game as a child was Pictionary.

One day, I was sitting on the living room floor, doodling, and I drew what I thought was a great picture of Roger Klotz, the bully from the cartoon show Doug. I drew it hastily from memory, which was not something I often did. I usually drew from trying to copy some form of source material, very rarely just from my own head. Well, anyway, I was so proud of this drawing that I wanted to show it off to my dad. So, I did. And he gives me a slightly puzzled look and says "Who is this supposed to be?"

Of course, I thought, Dad's not familiar with that show, I need to show him the original character. I happened to have a pack of Doug trading cards and one of them was of Roger, so I ran to my room and got it and excitedly hurried back to show my dad. And I was like, "See? Doesn't it look just like him?"

He looked back and forth between the trading card and my drawing, and then with a sort of "meh" expression on his face, he says, "Eh, I guess it kind of looks like him." He then handed me back the card and my drawing, and that was it.

For him.

For me, I was crushed. It may seem silly now. After all, it was just a quick doodle from memory and years later I found it, and Dad was right. It wasn't very good. But at the time, being nine years-old and having spent so much time practicing drawing and having a dream of one day working on the Simpsons or Disney movies or even on a Nicktoon like Doug, that feedback had a huge impact on me and planted a rather large seed of doubt. Dad was oblivious, as he often was. I know he didn't intend to hurt my feelings or cause any irreparable damage. After all, I was the one who asked for his opinion. But I wasn't really asking for his opinion. I thought what I had done was brilliant and wanted it recognized. Instead my so-called brilliance was met with a "meh".

I continued to draw, but I never felt the same about it after that. No matter how hard I tried, I just never felt good enough. I really had no natural talent for drawing. I couldn't draw the same image twice flawlessly, which of course is very important in animation. By the age of ten, a mere year later, I had absolutely no desire to be a cartoonist at all anymore. In fact, when given an assignment to write what my future goals were, I wrote with absolute sincerity that I wanted to attend St. Petersburg Junior College and then become a waitress. In fact, for the next several years, I thought that's what I was going to do. And oddly enough, to this day, I still often write about twenty-something women who are waitresses (Beth in Moonridge Memories, for example), that's how much of an impact that transition had on me, that transition from having a huge, unobtainable dream to having a much more realistic and modest dream, and yet to some degree, glamorizing it.

When I was eleven, I wrote a lot of poetry and short stories. At twelve, I attempted my first novel and got stuck at around 30 pages or so. At thirteen, that novel suddenly clicked for me, by just adding extra characters to it and subplots, I was able to write the whole thing within a month or so. Writing after that came so easily to me that I never dreamed of being a professional author. It came so easily to me that I thought there was nothing special about me and that anyone could write stories or novels. Between the ages of thirteen and eighteen, I wrote the first drafts of fifteen novels. How many people write just one novel in their lifetime? I don't know. But somewhere between the ages of thirteen and eighteen, I went from writing as a hobby for my own personal enjoyment to really wanting to pursue it as a career.

At that time, I wouldn't let anyone read my books. Not one person. I was afraid of having a dream taken from me again. I wrote fifteen novels before the age of eighteen and gave myself so little credit for such an achievement, and even saying that now makes me uncomfortable--calling it an achievement. After all, it was nothing special. Everyone could do it, right?

Wrong.

Even in today's world, where you can be in touch with thousands of people over the internet who do what you do, my ability to write, finish, and publish a novel makes me feel more special today than it ever did when I was young, even when I knew no one else personally who wrote novels. So many people say "I'd write a novel, but I don't have time. Maybe someday." Someday usually doesn't come. Because writing a novel is not a whim for a writer. It's not an end goal for "someday". It's as necessary and as natural as breathing. That is why I never felt special, because one doesn't feel special for breathing. Everyone breathes. However, very few, comparatively speaking, write.

Drawing never came naturally for me. It required all of my energy and my effort and still came out "meh". When I browse a site like DeviantArt.com, I'm in awe of the talent that people have for such artistry. But then I'll read their descriptions and some of them will say things like "This didn't turn out how I wanted it to" or "This isn't very good, but..." and I'm thinking I couldn't draw something half this good if I had the rest of my life to work on it. I think it's time for people to start giving themselves more credit for what they can do, for what makes them special. It doesn't matter if there are people out there who are better or worse than you are. There is only one you. Your voice, your perspective, your mind, makes you special and stand out among your peers. No one can take that from you, unless you let them.

As I was writing this, I was reminded of a song by Belle Brigade whose lyrics are rather fitting for my sentiments above. So have a listen below, if you'd like. Try to feel good about the things you do, because there are too many people out there waiting to tear you down to build themselves up. When you have a strong foundation of confidence and appreciation for your own talent, no one can tear it down.

Death of the TV Movie

On a decidedly random topic, I'd like to talk a bit about TV movies. The other day I was flipping around on TV and stopped on the movie "The Face On The Milk Carton", starring Kellie Martin. This is a movie I remembered watching as a kid. It got me to thinking about how many made-for-TV movies I had seen growing up, and the impact they had on me.

When I was young, television didn't have ratings like they do now. For the most part, my parents allowed me to watch anything on TV, because they were under the impression that a lot of things weren't allowed on TV. Which was true, to a degree. TV movies were always a treat. Since strong language and violence weren't as common or allowed  on TV back then, I always felt the writing on TV movies and clever directing had a much deeper impact with "adult themes", and left more of an impression on me than even outright cursing or gore in an R-rated movie. There were always disturbing or even scary elements that were somehow overlooked by or completely ignored by the network censors. A perfect example? Pretty much any Stephen King TV miniseries.


Stephen King's IT was the first Stephen King movie I recall seeing (Stand By Me may have been first, but since it wasn't horror, I'll discount it for now ;)). I loved it from the opening scene, which probably sounds a bit bizarre considering I was only about seven years-old at the time. I was a big Tim Curry fan even then, and somehow the familiarity of him being the clown (Pennywise) both scared and delighted me. But for all its lack of gore (being a TV movie and all), it was frightening and disturbing. So many images from that movie haunted me, even apart from Pennywise himself--the shower room scene, the scenes in the sewers (especially with Belch getting sucked into a pipe and Henry's hair turning stark white), the fortune cookie scene, Stan getting locked in the house with "IT", and many more.

After watching IT, it became a tradition of watching Stephen King's TV movies with my family, such as Tommyknockers and The Langoliers. Every time a new Stephen King movie was coming on TV, I couldn't wait to watch it. The movies were often spread over two nights or more, and I loved that formula. The anticipation of seeing part two, having something to look forward to all day at school--I just loved it.


Apart from straight up horror TV movies though, I saw a lot of "based on true events" ones. That seemed to be really big at the time. A couple really have stuck with me. One starred Neil Patrick Harris and was called "Snowbound: The Jim and Jennifer Stolpa Story". I don't remember it terribly well, but the concept of it (getting lost and stranded in a basically barren snowy environment) really freaked me out--even moreso knowing it was based on a true story.

Another was "The Flood: Who Will Save Our Children?". When I was five years-old, we had a relatively bad flood where I lived. I remember my mom walked me and my sister home from school, and the water was up to my waist. Now this is hardly as traumatizing as what happened in the movie, but I think my personal experience is what made the movie have such a huge impact on me. I'm sad to say I haven't gotten the chance to see it again since that first airing. If I recall correctly, the plot involved a school bus full of children that gets caught in a heavy flood. I found it deeply disturbing.

It saddens me today how made-for-TV movies aren't as common as they once were, especially on network TV. Some of my fondest memories of childhood was gathering around with my family, usually a bowl of popcorn, and tuning in for a TV movie. Sure, most of them really weren't appropriate for children, but I still enjoyed them. I think in many ways they even inspired me and my writing, because they often had plots that weren't common in theatrical movies, and there was a lot of creativity involved in making them effective without crossing censorship lines.

Aaaaand We're Back!

I haven't updated my blog in several days, and that's because my keyboard broke. Ugh! So I promptly ordered a new one and it arrived yesterday. Still getting used to the slightly different layout and the amount of pressure the keys require. I was making do with the On Screen Keyboard all week but didn't have the patience to type up a blog post with it, so forgive the lack of updates! I'll be blogging regularly again now.

Tweeting Is For The Birds

I have a confession to make. I've never signed up with Twitter, mostly because I just don't understand it. D'oh! I've been on Facebook for awhile, and I was very active on it initially, but got away from it a bit. The whole social media thing is a bit foreign to an introvert like me. However, I know if I decide to self-publish that social media is a great way to network with readers and people to show off my work. So I'll probably try to re-familiarize myself with Facebook at some point.

But Twitter! Argh! I wish I understood it. Even just looking at other people's pages, I can't seem to figure out what the deal is. There seems to be a lot of disconnected statements/replies, and I don't know what anything is referring to. What makes someone worth following? Are tweets as random as they seem or am I totally missing something? Sounds like I have some reading up to do...