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	<title>la noire de : the black girl of</title>
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		<title>la noire de : the black girl of</title>
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		<title>thursday: move over love, make room for me &#8211; Q</title>
		<link>http://lanoirede.wordpress.com/2009/01/02/thursday-move-over-love-make-room-for-me-q/</link>
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		<pubDate>Fri, 02 Jan 2009 00:23:36 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>lanoirede</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[daily life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[intro]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[my story]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[personal]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[publishing world]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://lanoirede.wordpress.com/?p=42</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[  I decided to become a writer in the summer of ’03, the one before high school. It was about the time that I had given up being a journalist (I’m too unrealistic to tell non-fiction stories) and had heard someone say the word ‘novelist’ in front of me for the first time in my [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=lanoirede.wordpress.com&amp;blog=5757809&amp;post=42&amp;subd=lanoirede&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&quot;color:black;font-size:10pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&quot;color:black;font-size:10pt;">I decided to become a writer in the summer of ’03, the one before high school. It was about the time that I had given up being a journalist (I’m too unrealistic to tell non-fiction stories) and had heard someone say the word ‘novelist’ in front of me for the first time in my life.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&quot;color:black;font-size:10pt;"><span id="more-42"></span>The youth group leader, whose name started with an S, asked me what I wanted to do. I just said I wanted to be a writer. And instead of jumping to journalist like most people do now when I tell them he told me about his friend who was always held up in a dark room just writing away. Creating things in his head that translated to paper and touched people when he finally reached the light. That solitary life, that meaningful life, that hard and yet joy filled road is the one I chose. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&quot;color:black;font-size:10pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&quot;color:black;font-size:10pt;">Four years later (equaling now), I had the biggest period of uncertainly in my life. I stopped writing. I stopped reading. I decided to study English in school but suddenly I stopped believing. My future as a novelist, as a writer, depended on the grades that my teacher’s gave me on essays, on reports, on research papers. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><em><span style="font-family:&quot;color:black;font-size:10pt;"> </span></em><span style="font-family:&quot;color:black;font-size:10pt;"></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><em><span style="font-family:&quot;color:black;font-size:10pt;">How did I know that I was going to make it as a writer? Is it even worth it to try, </span></em><span style="font-family:&quot;color:black;font-size:10pt;">someone named Elvis asked me. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&quot;color:black;font-size:10pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&quot;color:black;font-size:10pt;">One thing that I discovered during my break from school is that I am a writer whether or not I get paid. I write whether or not anyone reads it. I don’t do this for any fame, for grades, or for other people. This is meditative, it’s selfish, and it’s creative. It helps me through breakdowns and causes them. It gives me a high further than orgasmic. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&quot;color:black;font-size:10pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&quot;color:black;font-size:10pt;">I don’t care whether or not the [publishing] world wants to make space for me. It better make some. This is my year. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&quot;color:black;font-size:10pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&quot;color:black;font-size:10pt;">But of course I need a game plan. I’m just going to write and submit wherever I can and post online poems and stories here as well. It’s now the second phrase of my dream chasing; I’m going to blitzkrieg the publishing world with writing starting this year.  </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&quot;color:black;font-size:10pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&quot;color:black;font-size:10pt;">But of course, there is a journey to document which I will do here. All the triumphs and rejections, and everything in between will be posted. I need to keep it somewhere without writing on paper since I always lose the notebook and/or page. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&quot;color:black;font-size:10pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&quot;color:black;font-size:10pt;">Watch out for me! &lt;/3</span></p>
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