if you wanna say that you're sharing news
then you had better have sources
(and actual sources, too--
not some jumped-up conspiracy site
masquerading as real news;
not some clickbaiting reader-grab gab
meaning to push your agenda;
not some satirical sources
mocking your lack of information literacy)
Showing posts with label point of view. Show all posts
Showing posts with label point of view. Show all posts
Thursday, September 29, 2016
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Rebel
12-7-11
Fiction-ish thing.
_________________________
She'd been classified as a rebel early on. Living under a dictatorship and having parents who would do anything (almost quite literally) for freedom and democracy and all those lofty ideals was almost certainly part of the reason. So, if anyone ever asked her what she thought (but no one ever did, not about that, anyway), she would have jokingly blamed it on her upbringing.
Most young adults did that, anyway. Blamed their upbringing. If she were in fact a normal young adult, she would be right on track, right in step with every one else in the galaxy. Not a rebel in that way. No, certainly not. She was a rebel, but for all the proper reasons. Right?
She'd always felt different, somehow. Sure, her legal status and her private tutors and her early advancement had made it difficult to make friends her own age, but that wasn't it. She had to be proper, do the right things, say the correct words in all the long speeches she ever made, but that wasn't it. There were...secrets, and somehow, and for some reason, she herself was at the center of it. It was uncanny how she knew--it was like she could sometimes see people's thoughts, but no one could do that. Right?
Father had never said anything, but, then, how could he, with all the spies about? The same went with Mother--there was always this sadness about her, something wrapped about her as tightly as a cloak or the humidity on a heavy summer's day. She'd always felt that her parents had known something about her that they refused to tell her. Had just assumed that they'd tell her when she was ready, when they were away from the government's spies, when she could be trusted with whatever it was. She was family, after all. Right?
But part of her had always whispered that there was more than just statecraft and deceptions and slipping past the government's spies, but she didn't discover that until she'd lost her family and met them.
They were two of the strangest men (if you could call them that) she'd ever met--a dirt-grubbing farmer and a loud-mouthed mercenary, both of whom she was sure would either be killed (the farmer) or betray them all (the mercenary).
She'd been wrong, on both counts. But mistrust was hard to unlearn, and loving people after having lost everything you'd ever known and loved--well, it took time. Time, a bounty hunter, a little luck (though the farmer claimed there was no such thing), strange revelations, and the end of a war, but it finally happened. She'd regained a family through unorthodox means. It wasn't proper at all; if her parents--well, those she'd loved as parents--would have been thoroughly scandalized by it all. But you know what? She didn't care. She was a rebel, after all.
_______________
It's probably patently obvious who this is, but yeah. Fiction-ish.
Fiction-ish thing.
_________________________
She'd been classified as a rebel early on. Living under a dictatorship and having parents who would do anything (almost quite literally) for freedom and democracy and all those lofty ideals was almost certainly part of the reason. So, if anyone ever asked her what she thought (but no one ever did, not about that, anyway), she would have jokingly blamed it on her upbringing.
Most young adults did that, anyway. Blamed their upbringing. If she were in fact a normal young adult, she would be right on track, right in step with every one else in the galaxy. Not a rebel in that way. No, certainly not. She was a rebel, but for all the proper reasons. Right?
She'd always felt different, somehow. Sure, her legal status and her private tutors and her early advancement had made it difficult to make friends her own age, but that wasn't it. She had to be proper, do the right things, say the correct words in all the long speeches she ever made, but that wasn't it. There were...secrets, and somehow, and for some reason, she herself was at the center of it. It was uncanny how she knew--it was like she could sometimes see people's thoughts, but no one could do that. Right?
Father had never said anything, but, then, how could he, with all the spies about? The same went with Mother--there was always this sadness about her, something wrapped about her as tightly as a cloak or the humidity on a heavy summer's day. She'd always felt that her parents had known something about her that they refused to tell her. Had just assumed that they'd tell her when she was ready, when they were away from the government's spies, when she could be trusted with whatever it was. She was family, after all. Right?
But part of her had always whispered that there was more than just statecraft and deceptions and slipping past the government's spies, but she didn't discover that until she'd lost her family and met them.
They were two of the strangest men (if you could call them that) she'd ever met--a dirt-grubbing farmer and a loud-mouthed mercenary, both of whom she was sure would either be killed (the farmer) or betray them all (the mercenary).
She'd been wrong, on both counts. But mistrust was hard to unlearn, and loving people after having lost everything you'd ever known and loved--well, it took time. Time, a bounty hunter, a little luck (though the farmer claimed there was no such thing), strange revelations, and the end of a war, but it finally happened. She'd regained a family through unorthodox means. It wasn't proper at all; if her parents--well, those she'd loved as parents--would have been thoroughly scandalized by it all. But you know what? She didn't care. She was a rebel, after all.
_______________
It's probably patently obvious who this is, but yeah. Fiction-ish.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Thanksgiving Break
12-1-10
Yes, break ended on Sunday, and so the busyness descended upon all of us students once again. This is the first chance I've gotten to write some blogs, and I'm trying to be fair to both my blogs.
Anyway, break gave me a great chance to do a LOT of writing. I spent about four hours on last Wednesday putting the rest of one of my unnamed stories onto my computer, and so then I had to do what I promised and start putting it on the critique forums.
It felt nice to get that third draft done--and then I moved onto some of my other stories. One story has been shelved for a while because one, I was learning how to actually write in the viewpoint character's viewpoint, and two, the story wasn't working. I actually have this one sort of planned out. Vaguely, anyway.
One of the other characters wanted to talk, even though he really doesn't talk to the other characters much and has secrets that he doesn't even want to admit to himself. So he's guarded and cynical and actually telling the story better than my original main viewpoint character did (and she's been my viewpoint character since I created the story in eighth grade). He's not the only viewpoint I have, but it did change the beginning point as well. Anyway, we'll see how that goes.
-Ashlee
Yes, break ended on Sunday, and so the busyness descended upon all of us students once again. This is the first chance I've gotten to write some blogs, and I'm trying to be fair to both my blogs.
Anyway, break gave me a great chance to do a LOT of writing. I spent about four hours on last Wednesday putting the rest of one of my unnamed stories onto my computer, and so then I had to do what I promised and start putting it on the critique forums.
It felt nice to get that third draft done--and then I moved onto some of my other stories. One story has been shelved for a while because one, I was learning how to actually write in the viewpoint character's viewpoint, and two, the story wasn't working. I actually have this one sort of planned out. Vaguely, anyway.
One of the other characters wanted to talk, even though he really doesn't talk to the other characters much and has secrets that he doesn't even want to admit to himself. So he's guarded and cynical and actually telling the story better than my original main viewpoint character did (and she's been my viewpoint character since I created the story in eighth grade). He's not the only viewpoint I have, but it did change the beginning point as well. Anyway, we'll see how that goes.
-Ashlee
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