And of course this is expected – this is the life led in the theater. As comical as Ian Mckellen’s spot on Extra’s was, he did have a good bit of truth when he stated that acting was illusion. Like all illusions, though it is temporary; if it weren’t, it wouldn’t hold our interest, or it would simply be life but on a stage and no one wants to see that. So I can come to terms with the delicate necessity to be able to build a world with the knowledge that it’ll vanish before you had time to explore all of it.

Because for a brief moment we were kings of that world – my cast, my staff, my designers, myself. We controlled it, organized it, built it, had meetings to decide its color, its sound, and if we could have, probably their taste. But more important and more sad to see disappear was the fact that while we were working on this show we did so in the ultimate form of unity. Everyone had to do and be exactly what they were to create the show. Even down to everyone changing their facebook profile picture to the show poster. and now, we are back to our lives, our evenings free(ish?), and our old profile pictures. And it’s sad to watch it go, but it was a choice we made to build for a moment that would, granted, last as long as moments do, but a moment that was truly ours – not mine and hers and his – ours.

The question remains of what to do, but that is not our problem – that is each of ours. For now, I’m hanging my poster up on my wall. It’s not leaving my side, because that memory is not temporary.

I’ve thought about writing this for a while – I waited 4 weeks before doing so, and now, before I finish my time here at UChicago, I want you to know something.

I dropped your class. This much you know, but what you don’t know are the reasons. You may think that it is because I saw the error of my ways and dropped out because I didn’t have the prerequisites or because I realized I didn’t have the background necessary to take intro to composition.

That’s not it. That’s not it at all. I left because I don’t want to be in a class where the teacher has no faith in me. I don’t want to be in a class where the teacher says “you can’t”. I am graduating from the University of Chicago in 2.5 years, I have received numerous grants and fellowships, taught myself to play the guitar and the piano, have trained my voice, am in a professional a cappella group, and arrange music and have written/co-written six songs. I’m not dumb. I’m actually rather smart (and it took me a while to be able to say that and not feel like an arrogant ass), and I’m not new to music (I started playing the saxophone when I was 8. Twelve years I’ve had it). So telling me that I can’t learn the necessary music theory because I hadn’t taken the prereq’s (which were never mentioned anywhere in the literature about the course), is ridiculous. I was taking three classes, was deeply interested in taking your class, and then left, because you didn’t think I could do it. I knew I could, but I didn’t want to be in a class with a teacher who doubted me. If you get nothing else from this letter, hold on to this, since you will be teaching in the future. Have faith in your students. If they say they can do something, chances are, they can do it. Give them a chance. Believe in them as they do and then some, because if you don’t – and you don’t have to tell them you don’t for them to know that you don’t (although that certainly doesn’t help) – you will lose them and a teacher without students is just a person talking to themself about things they already know.

I’m taking another class – still working on doing catch-up work and I’m actually doing rather poorly in the class. But the TA’s and the professor seem hopeful that I’ll be able to pass and go on to graduate this quarter. You didn’t even think I could do that.

What I’ve learned from this whole thing is that I should never give in. I shouldn’t have just backed out and said it wasn’t worth the fight. Every fight like that is worth it. Even if I had spent every night sleepless, learning music theory in 10 weeks, while concurrently learning how to apply it, it would have been worth it, because while I didn’t need to prove it to myself that I could, I would have been able to prove it to you. And now you will never know. I will know. But you won’t, and that frustrates me.

I’ve learned to pick my battles. Hindsight’s a bitch, but then again, now you won’t get a chance to see what I can do. Your loss.

Sincerely,
Adam

After a full day of singing, what better way to wrap it up than with some eating of copious amounts of Italian food. I got calamari and cheese things. Also about 30 pieces of garlic bread. Currently regretting that decision (thank god for prilosec, amirite?). After that it we traveled to CJ’s house for video games, a cappella enrichment/ here’s how to arrange or different approaches to arranging workshop, and Chronicles of Riddick(ulous): Pitch Black.

Some noteable quotes/my favorite moments from the day:

1) Amirah, one of the little girls in the playroom, singing along with Beard to Sweet Child of Mine then asking us all to give her our autographs and asking me to write “from Run for Cover with a big heart next to it.” The best audience member ever. Hands down.

2) “No but they didn’t have no evidence or nothing, man.”

3) MattBatt and Ely’s game of strip-air hockey.

4) STORM.

5) “There wasn’t enough in our budget for more than one colorings.”

6) “Word Rape” “This entire movie is word rape” “No – this entire movie is logic rape.”

7) Rudy losing his shit to the sheer existence of this movie.

Space trannies – wait for reals.

9) Rudy’s seizure dance.

10) Beard and Storm 4ever.

see y’all tomorrow!

That’s right – Run for Cover – the a cappella group that I’m president of – has decided to go on tour to the south to visit St. Louis, the home of two of our members, CJ and Greg. With third and fourth years at Greg’s house (sans MattBatt and Dileep) and first and second years at CJs, this looks to be an entertaining trip, especially when looking at what happened on the five hour busride down here (just kidding it was 4.5 hours because Megabus got there early – WHAT?).

Moments of interest:

1) Ely discovering, at a truck stop, an erotic arcade game. Mostly puzzles. We almost had to leave him behind.

2) Rudy discovering he has the ankles of a dachsund.

3) Ian begging for crumpets from passersby as we waited for CJ and Greg’s moms to save us from the cold.

4) Sam trying to convince me that Mila Kunis, Sara Jessica Parker, and Kim Kardashian are essentially the same in appearance.

5) Finding out Greg’s house was built over the mines of moria.

6) baby greg. Cute? or the cutest?

7) Me forgetting my laptop charger. Woops.

I’ll keep y’all posted as the tour goes!

It is not selfish to want. Nor is it selfish to say you want.

It’s simple, right? Not groundbreaking, not mind boggling, nothing like that. But it is for me. For the longest time, if two people wanted something, I would be the one to bow out. Sure – you can have that apple. Or that job. Or that spot in line. Because it seems like you want it more. Or maybe you deserve it more. But I shouldn’t want it because you want it and so I’ll give it up.

But that’s not the case. That’s not me. I don’t HAVE to back out of wanting things. I don’t HAVE to give up on fighting for things. And while I don’t necessarily agree 100 percent with this statement, if you want something, you’ll fight for it. I don’t think fighting for something needs to be a stipulation, but I have found something I’m willing to fight for, and I will do so as much and as long as it takes. Because it’s worth it. Sometimes it’s worth risking everything for to get everything.

And that’s. Not. Selfish.

So. During a discussion I had with an admissions counselor (I work in UChicago Admissions office, I am popular yes what no I can’t get you in stop asking) about MFA programs, since she attended a low res in Vermont, and I wanted to hear what that was like, I mentioned my interest in YA. She kindly told me that I probably shouldn’t mention that in my application, which confused me. Upon further prompting, she explained that YA was taken much less seriously, and it was only at specific programs like Hamlin or Seton Hill that I should be like “I LIKE WRITING FOR TEENS LOVE ME PLEASE ACCEPT APPLICATION FOR WANTING TO BE IN YOUR SCHOOL”. Or whatever it is I’m writing. I might show you my statement of purpose later in the week if you ask. Please comment on my blog?

This news, however, was really concerning. Why is YA taken less seriously? First of all that seems like bullshit. Second of all, if it isn’t bullshit, why is that the case? People who write for kids are the most important writers out there (i might get some flack for this), because they are the people who get others interested in writing in the first place. True, someone might not read until their 30′s or 40′s. At least not for fun, anyways. But in all honesty, everyone reads or gets read to at a young age. Someone, I’m sure, can easily list the first books they read or remember reading, or their favorite bed time story. To summarize what I could talk about for a really long time, Kid Lit is just as important if not more so, as adult lit. It makes no sense that it should be taken less seriously. And I can tell you I’m going to mention it in my applications, because I’m damn proud of that fact – that I write for young readers and just starting readers and I’m just getting bar mitzvahed readers.

This got me thinking about Ms. Moskowit’z post. She said that YA writers are becoming very cliquish. Or perhaps that’s the wrong word. She fears (i’m summarizing but if you want to get a full on understanding of it, you really should read her post. And her blog. And her books. Fanboy froth) that YA writers are becoming a very tightly knitted community writing for each other rather than the kids – everyone knows each other and everyone’s agents, everyone talks to each other and tweets at each other and blogsand guest blogs for each other.

So this got me thinking, like I said, which is an unusual state of being for myself. What if YA is like the group of kids who plays dungeons and dragons. We have our own culture and our own society and system, but we band together because the football players don’t want to talk to us because they think they’re better than us? WHat I’m trying to say is, yes, YA writers do seem to be intensely connected with each other, which isn’t a bad thing (although I’m not sure if it’s a good thing. I like talking to YA writers online, but I do think Hannah expressed some pretty good concerns for what it might do to the actual writing and stories) but what if it’s more a product of our environment? What if it’s because MFA programs don’t think YA is serious enough for them, or because adult fiction writers don’t picture YA as important, or this reason or that, but whatever it is, YA writers have been ostracized. So, like the wayward nerds, we group together and we cosplay together at comicon or whatever the writerly analogy would be?

Suffice it to say, what’s so bad about YA that I shouldn’t include it on my MFA application, and is that a sign of a similar trend of thought throughout the writing community?

UT-Austin (Michener Center)
University of Iowa
University of Michigan
Johns Hopkins University
Ohio State University
UT Houston
School at the Art Institute of Chicago
Northwestern (It’s an MA, not an MFA)
University of Florida
University of Maryland
Brown University
Washington University in St. Louis

Total Schools: 12

12 applications. That’s a total of 35 recommendation letters, 12 statements of purposes, 12 writing samples of varying sizes, 24 transcripts, and 12 resumes. Also 1 interview.

My GRE scores were good enough to get me in to these places (600 V, 800 M).

My biggest concern at the moment is the Statement of Purpose. Not because I’m arrogant about my writing or know I can destroy that shit (although I hope I can), but because it’s what I’m working on at the moment.

I was given a copy of the most recent Poets and Writers Magazine by an admissions counselor I work with at UChicago who attended Vermont College (#1 in low residency MFA programs in the recent rankings), and in it, they have an article on what to say and what not to say on your Statement of Purpose, which seems to address a lot of what I was afraid of doing.

Write a well-written story, but not about why you wanted to become a writer. Address each school individually, but not individual teachers. Typical stuff. But damn is this hard. Right now I have a couple ideas: My premed life transitioning to my life now (with tie-ins), my obsession with the number 2 and how it runs my life, and comic books as my bed time story.

Any favorites? I can jot down some rough drafts if you guys want.

The “facts” are these:

Scott Pilgrim vs. The World does the best job I’ve seen in…ever…at adapting from another text. I wanted to jump up in the theaters (both times I saw it) and scream “SUCK IT M. NIGHT.” Or something along those lines. But seriously! It’s so tremendous at getting everything important down. Yes, they left out the subplot about Knive’s father trying to kill Scott, and yes they may have increased or decreased the parts/stories of various characters. But the adaptors got everything that was truly important down, and they did it while staying true to the actual feel of the books. I expand now, yes? Yes.

Expansion 1:
Music.
The entire series is filled with music, references to music, bands, discussions of bands, references to discussions of bands.
Damn did they get it down perfectly. In terms of pre-existing songs, they found the perfect songs, both in terms of content, sound, and just general attitude. Especially Metric’s “Black Sheep” as covered by Brie Larson; if you listen to the lyrics, it becomes hauntingly clear that the original band KNEW – they just KNEW, okay? – that their song was going to be in this movie when they were writing it.
The original songs – the producers or whoever went all out in finding some fantastic musicians to write songs for the different groups. Beck wrote Sex Bob-Omb songs, Broken Social Scene wrote the Crash and the Boys songs, and even professional musicians played in the Clash at Demonhead (I’m looking at you, Tennessee Thomas). Seriously? Every song is fantastic. Music. Rocks.

Expansion 2:
The books aren’t meant to appeal to everyone. Neither is the movie. I’m sorry if you didn’t like it, but to be honest, stop saying if you’re over 30 you won’t like it. That’s not true. The adults were laughing right along with the kids when I’ve seen it (again, both times). It’s not your average movie, but then again, that’s one of the great things about it.

Expansion 3:
Edgar Wright is the best director for this movie and he really delivered. He managed to keep it fast paced, never letting it drag, directing very heavily, like he did with Shaun of the Dead, but making it work and flow beautifully. It kept the feel of a graphic novel by making your eyes constantly jump from point a to point b.
It works so well. The graphics, the style, the pacing, everything was just a symphony of awesome.

Expansion 4:
Michael Cera is awesome.

Expansion 5:
No seriously.

Expansion 6:
Actually the entire cast is awesome.

Expansion 7:
Every single person fits the part brilliantly.

Expansion 8:
If your life had a face I would punch it.

Fin.

This is from my current WIP: From the Ashes. Post-apocalyptic Superhero Book!