Boston Pride 2017 video essay and transcript.
This comic sounds promising. The image below is a blurb on the back that caught my eye and made me add it to the pile I wanted to use a graduation gift card on.
Kim & Kim are queer interdimensional bounty hunters that travel in a space-modified VW van. Imagine if the Mystery Machine could fly, and you’ve basically got what they live and work in.
This buddy-cop comic, where instead of buddies the cops are significant others, is a wild ride with restaurant window crashing adventures and gun-wielding battles.
I picked up this comic because the diversity sounded awesome. Who wouldn’t want more queer and trans representation in a comic?
As much as I wanted to truly love this comic, I couldn’t get past the forced writing. Every section felt like it was forcing the character’s backstories down my throat while also maintaining the current bounty hunt. The two stories weren’t woven as cleanly and it made much of the writing feel cluttered. Or maybe more like a rollercoaster?
I couldn’t get attached to the characters and want to follow their story. Kim Q. and Kim D. have a lot to share about their lives and how they came to be a couple. But forcing all of that character backstory right away didn’t hook me. It made me less inclined to keep reading.
The story stopped and started a lot. We’d be on some bounty adventure, suddenly the characters would jump scenes and recount the battle, or what they woke up to. At points, I didn’t mind the change of scene that cut out the exposition. But I did want to know what happened further with those plots because the sudden jump cut seemed like a cop out.
The art is colorful and it’s great to see the punk clothing spliced in a space-western.
Don’t get me wrong. This is a fun comic overall with its Space!Cowboy Punk world. Maybe this comic isn’t my cup of tea, but I think the writing could be stronger and give us more depth to the characters than what was repeated in every chapter/issue. Pick this up if you want to give it a shot and explore the diverse world created.
This is a short story I’m working on based off of a Tumblr post I found forever ago. Comments/critiques and suggestions are appreciated. There are other scenes I want to add, and change some of the dialogue around.
The transcript of this video is below.
Parents care a lot about grades. They want their kids to get into a good school to get a good job.
But who defines good?
It’s not a word that dictates any more about a person than the buzzwords on their resume.
My freshman year of high school I would cry over my math homework at the desk in our living room. No matter how much effort I put into studying, I never felt like I understood what I needed to do to succeed.
I never felt good about my work or the class. I asked the teacher for help, but that never felt like enough.
One day while crying over a failed test my mom asked me: “Did you try?”
I told her I asked the teacher for help after school, I did extra homework problems. Whatever the teacher recommended, I did.
She then asked, “Did you do everything you could?”
I told her yes.
She patted my back and hugged me. “Then you gave it your best. It’s okay that you’re not good at math. At least you can say you tried.”
Failure sucks. It is the worst feeling to know you didn’t succeed somewhere that you should have. But failure or the feeling of failure isn’t something to look at negatively.
If you tried and did all you could, then you didn’t fail.
You did your best.
It’s okay to not be good at something.
The transcript of this video is below.
As a freshman, my friend Jess told me that the next four years would fly by. Time is a goon.
It’s the weekend before finals, and as I and my peers write term papers and rehearse presentations, I’m faced with bidding farewell to a place I’m privileged to call home. This bittersweet experience makes my throat get tight and my eyes well.
For the first time in four years, I’m going to pack up my room and not move across campus for the summer. I won’t walk into the Office of Residence Life for work and spend my evenings hanging out with friends on the RA staff.
College is this strange time in your life where you are figuring out who you are. A process that doesn’t stop after you put on the cap and gown.
In two weeks I’m going to cross a stage and be given a diploma. A piece of paper that represents my academic achievement. What it doesn’t show is the tears, mental breakdowns, coffee cups, laughter, late nights, and friends I gained along the way.
I grew far more at college than I ever would have anticipated. That growth changed me for the better, even though at times it didn’t feel worth it.
Wherever I end up I will have these memories to look back on. They say when one door closes, another opens. But this feels like more than that. This is more than closing a chapter of my life.
So it goes.
This post contains some spoilers for the Horizon Zero Dawn ending. Proceed at your own risk.
I am going to make the assumption I am not getting accepted to grad school this year. With four out of five rejections in, I think I can bet on the final rejection coming at some point in the next week or two. Or perhaps I should assume by their silence that it won’t happen this year.
If I were a traditional college student, I think this number of rejections would hurt a lot more. Early-twenties me would have taken the rejection much harder, which would have fueled my imposter syndrome in a way that perhaps would have made me reconsider writing. The self-deprecation of my skills was stronger then.
At twenty-seven I’m taking these rejection emails in stride. I can make some guesses as to why I’m being told no. My research subject was too odd. My research was too specific. My research wasn’t targeting the right school. I can’t art for the one MFA program I applied to. You know what, though? That’s fine.
I keep reminding myself that things happen for a reason.
I’ll sulk into some video games and comic books this weekend, maybe even treat myself to some Mr. Macs or tacos.
And then I’ll dive head first into the job applications. I’ll talk to some professors about their thoughts on my next steps, and see what advice they can give me.
I’ve been rejected from things before, and I’ve learned that I function best by taking my negative energy and putting it towards something new.
We’ll see what I make this time.