I have finally finished up this school year, which, I admit, has come as a bit of a relief. Thanks to my crazy teacher, the last month was the most unpleasant school experience yet.
According to the syllabus, were were supposed to have been assigned four case papers and given four tests throughout the semester. When only four weeks of class remained, she realized we had only taken one test and been assigned two case papers. Now, we all know what the logical thing to do is: Change the syllabus. Of course, that’s not what she did at all. Instead, she announced that we would be having a test that Thursday, followed by another test about a week and a half later, and she would cram the last four chapters into two class sessions for a test the following Thursday. I spent every single weekend in the same chair, studying all day Saturday and Sunday, until the end of the school year. And yeah, I’m bitter. Meanwhile, she gave us “extra credit” assignments that were not geared to the class at all. No, she had heard so much complaining about the drafting class that she decided to give assignments based on that class and not our class. You know, the class I’m not taking. Because that makes sense.
So I did the first assignment. Well, let’s be honest and say that Tom did the first assignment. There was a lot of math involved and I was feeling a little overwhelmed. (Thanks, honey!) With the next assignment, she handed out a huge, stapled pack of blueprints and a big worksheet of questions about the blueprints. I am not taking the drafting class, so I can’t do it. I sat down and tried to do it, but I just don’t know what 2/3 of the questions are asking me to do. So at the next class when we turned in the assignment, I went to her and explained that I wasn’t taking the drafting class (which she should have known because I’ve told her twice) and so, I was not able to do the assignment.
She blinked at me, totally confused, and said, “Oh, so you want to turn it in on Thursday?”
“No,” says I. “I am not taking the drafting classes, so I don’t know what you’re asking me to do on this assignment.”
Silence. Then, “Oooh, I see… I didn’t know that you weren’t taking the drafting class.”
She probably forgot. Whatever. I explained then that I just didn’t want to be penalized for not turning in the assignment. She said she would work something out, although I wouldn’t be able to get any extra credit because I didn’t turn it in. You know how subtle my facial expressions can be, so I’m not sure why she quickly changed her statement and said she would figure something out with my grade.
The test was given on Thursday, and it could have gone either way. I really want an A in the class, but I’m not sure if I will get it this time around. My guess is that I will end up with a B+. Still, not bad, but I wanted an A.
I’m still working on my novel. Things are coming along really well and I’m enjoying the process a great deal. My writing isn’t brilliant, but I’m enjoying it. I even wrote my first fight scenes! It was more than a little awkward at first, and it was obvious to me when I re-read it that my fear of writing it was coming through. Luckily for me I accidentally deleted it, which gave me a chance to write it again. The next time I did it came out much better. At least, I think so. It’s probably a pile of crap, but I feel like I’ve accomplished something. Tom and I talked a bit about what might help me with a fight scene, and he thinks perhaps because I’ve never punched anyone before, it might be holding me back. After some serious discussion, we decided that night when we go to Rich’s house for dinner & 24, I should get into a fight with Rich in the kitchen while Tom takes notes on what it looks like. We had some pretty good ideas about what a kitchen fight with Rich would look like… more to come on that later.
That was chapter five, and I moved right along to chapter six, which I wrote pretty darn fast considering the other chapters took me days and days and days to complete – and this one included a fight with cyclops! I read a book that suggests people can write a minimum of one page per hour. That was pretty discouraging, because sometimes I torment so much over the words that it takes me an hour to write a paragraph. Sad, I know. But I hit chapter six, and I knew what I wanted, and bam – it all just came out. Now that it’s over I feel pretty tired, and I’m going to take a few days off to plot and plan the next stages of the book. I know the beginning, I know how it ends… time to start working out the middle.
So things are good right now, and I’m going to enjoy my summer break.