I spent my Friday night on the floor coloring with my 3 year old boss. We discussed “pup-cakes” for her 4th birthday, and as I was thinking about my own birthday, I realized that I’m turning 20 this year. My teenaged years are now teenaged months. I’m kind of impressed with how I “lived” my teenage years. I managed to get a Tattoo without getting grounded. (Quick tbt, at 14 I thought this would be my future “tatoo” #stopDaniella2015
20. It’s the beginning of my Adulthood.
To think at 16 I started writing a novel that was only going to be ready a few months shy before I turn 20.
At 16 this novel had a completely different meaning, and message. At the time I started writing it for someone else rather than for myself. But at 18, when I entered what I was told was the “real world” I kept the formula, and changed its direction.
I said that by at least 20, I’d have something to show for myself.
As luck would have it, just as I was at my most productive state, my computer crashed. 6 years of my MacBook Pro, 6 years of documents, pictures, playlists for man-boys, everything. Before we let ourselves get emotional, I have an external hard-drive and managed to save everything considering I back up every Thursday, but the idea of the physical computer being gone….is a tad nerve-wrecking.
I filmed and edited my first documentary in 2010 on it. http://youtu.be/00KO2vaBGcU originally for an assignment in hopes that the women of our generation and generations to come would feel beautiful, I thought I was Quentin Tarantino, but I was just Quentin Tortillini. (Sorry I was just Facetiming Diana’s Italian boyfriend)
This may seem like a silly YouTube video, and my fetus voice still had much growing to do, but I wrote something, sang it, and put it out there because I was desperate for an answer. I wanted to have my own song but I never made it happen because everything I produced sounded off. So I took popular songs, and wrote my own lyrics. The video got 30,000 views, and was almost everywhere on social media. That’s when I felt like I was capable of doing something with this.
I became a writer on that computer. I started novel ideas, scripts, and even brought a few of them to life. It was only in January that I managed to finish my first project. A collection of short stories, through the music of the Arctic Monkeys, about a character in my novel. When my computer crashed I had the opportunity to save 1GB worth of documentation that I could use when necessary. Everything else is on the external hard drive waiting for a MacBook to unleash itself onto. However because it’s a Mac-Ext…I cannot use it anywhere else. So the first thing I grabbed was my novel, my recent poetry ideas, and finally the short stories.
“But it’s finished? Why are you grabbing them?”
Good question conscious, because they’re not done. I’m not closing the page just yet, because it may be my best work in the moment, but there’s a chance it could get better. I often ask myself what I’m going to do with it, short film? a script? another novel? Or leave it the way it is.
In the computer’s final months I got the chance to create my best work. My most vulnerable blog posts, my first poem that saw the light of day, etc.
I was 10 years older than my 4 year old boss when I purchased it.
So now it’s my turn to ask.
Where were you when you first realized you were good at something?
Where were you last year, at this time?
Are you satisfied with the growth?
I was 14 when I stood in front of my class and read my first piece of work out loud. I was telling professed the importance of what it was like to feel something, and then a week later I wrote a Part-2 enforcing the played out notion of “not feeling at all.”
I was 17 when I stood on stage bowing with the rest of my cast, and looking into the eyes of the subject I had based a character off of, he stood there whistling and clapping, a reaction I didn’t expect, for someone who just had their dirty laundry laid out on stage. Trooper of the decade.
This time last year, I was sitting on my bedroom floor, writing pages and pages of prose
I still wake up in the middle of the night wondering why he chose me, and I probably always will.
Because after all the dark souls, I deserve some light.
A mind filled with grey matter loses all sense of intelligence at 3am
I couldn’t put the pen down, despite how unhappy school was making me, I wouldn’t stop writing. I was at my happiest when I wrote, and I felt even better when I shared my work.
In a way, I’m happy my computer gave up, because it not only made me come to the realization that I should invest in a new MacBook, but because there’s new memories to be made.
Maybe my first documentary will be the short-films, a 1-man play, the sequel to my novel will get its fresh start there, and new poetry will be written.
But until then all my work is being done on an iPad, and I’m still getting used to typing on this thang.
Until next time.