P Squared: Polaroid and Panda

As a writer, I think its mandatory to be criticized. But when you loved and had put your heart into the piece you're writing...criticism is not the best thing you'd ever want. Especially negative comments, they killed me. But I guess negative criticism is one of the best motivations to improve your writing. Not to be motivated because you wanted to top them and show off that you're better now but to prove to yourself that you can do so much better with your writing. Well, that realization hit me hard and long enough. 'Nuff said.


Okay, so last week, we presented our Novel Report for Literature. And can you believe it, we were four points short and we'd have a perfect mark. But aside from having a great story to analyze and rant about--my writing was improved. Especially when I wrote everything for the Written Report. My teacher complimented me for it and I was truly happy with the outcome. It's kind of hard for me to understand a story in a short period of time but thank God for the wit He gave me. Mrs. Ibarra, commented something about welcoming to the real world and that the understanding, introduction, everything (except for the theme) was good. Written very well. 


Oh and the story we reported was from "Catch A Falling Star" by Cristina Pantoja-Hidalgo, it's called, "The Woman in the Apple Green Dress". The story is quite controversial in some ways. 


And I practically had one of the best creative long tests ever for Lit, we had to write a story. Either true story or just fiction. The minute I was in front of a pen and paper, I started scribbling down ideas. I had this first heartbreak things, family issues and other mature things but I shrugged it off. I stopped thinking of it for like three days until yesterday that the story I wanted hit me. I was watching Glee, then there goes my favorite characters, Blaine, Santana and Quinn. Completely inspired to start writing because I need to pass it by Monday, I was thoroughly writing and writing. After an hour or two, four pages, eight columns, 1.5 spacing with the size of 11.5, Times New Roman. I had to cut it short because I was limited to four pages. Bummer. I called it Polaroid. I don't know why, but it was the title that came into my mind. Well, it's better than labelling my story...Panda. 


Here's a very very short excerpt:

     Walking down the hallway where everyone envies you is quite bizarre. They fear me. Once they see me with the same dress as they are, they would hide themselves and change. Every word that comes out from my mouth is law. Though the tough exterior in me, they don’t know who the lost little girl whose beneath the shade of regret and insecurity.

     “Hey, babe,” my boyfriend soothingly rubbed my arms up and down.

     “Hey. What’s up?” I turned around from my locker and faced him as my arms found its way to his neck and ruffled through his bleached blonde hair.

     He kept his hands to my waist and pulled me closer as he inched his face to mine. I placed a light peck on his lips before his hands went to my thighs. I poked his chest.

     “What was that for?” he squinted but moved his hands back to my waist. I fastened my jacket to cover my very exposed thighs from my cheerleading uniform. Once I looked up at him again, his face was certainly waiting for an answer. I giggled at his reaction and smiled warmly.

     “We’re in public. And besides, I can’t do this, not now at least.” I mumbled, turning my head to the other direction.

     He maneuvered his arms to my shoulder and hugged me tight. Suddenly, I felt safe. It wasn’t like any other people. I think this is the best year in my almost four years in this damn high school. I wanted to get out of this school. No not school, but this country. Everything about it just makes everything even more difficult for me.

     “We have to go, they’re waiting,” I didn’t really catch the other things he said, I wasn’t really listening before he got me out of my trance of that memory that I’ve been avoiding. 

Hoha. It sucks right. Last minute writing, I was very inspired though.