So my mom was telling me to run some errands, since she was busy with something. I told her I couldn’t, because I was busy with something myself. She asked me what I could possibly be busy with over summer break (’cause it’s not like I was even taking a glance at the volunteer work I had promised to do for her NGO). So I told her. “NaPoWriMo, mom.”
“Apple remote? What’s that?”
I don’t know how many times I had to repeat it to her and my father before they got it right. I never felt like my parents were older than I felt they were at that moment.
I explained to them that it was part of this contest for my soon-to-be org (my friend Angel pulled me into it, and I dove right in). Everyday, I’d await a prompt to be posted on NaPoWriMo’s site, and then scribble and slave until I produced something I might be proud of, or until the 24 hour deadline – whichever came first. We weren’t required to make a poem everyday (that was our own choice), but we were encouraged to write at least one, if not more. We were up against three other teams, and at the end of a week, the team with the least number of poems would be eliminated.
I didn’t care much for the competition, in all honesty. Whether or not we were eliminated was of no consequence to me. I just wanted to write. I just wanted to exercise my skill and flex my poetic muscle (it needed it badly). Also, it was a wonderful way to connect to my writer friends, which I think is a noble pursuit.
My parents didn’t exactly approve, however. I mean, they supported me and my writing, but they didn’t like the idea of NaPoWriMo. They were scared that someone would steal my work, since it would get posted online (even if it was just within my team’s Facebook group). My little brother called NaPoWriMo a crowdsourcing tactic.
I was kind of enraged at first. Why would they even THINK that??? But then I realized that they were right. I didn’t know these people, and, much as I would like to trust them, I was under no assurance that I could. And if they did steal my work, then I’d have no real proof to show that it was mine (other than my name on some digital files). There was no contract or written document or whatever to protect me. I slumped unto my mother’s bed. That was tragic.
As my mother rambled on about the evils of this world, I decided in my heart that I wouldn’t lose faith in my teammates. I had absolutely no ill intentions, and I doubted they would either. However, I was going to make sure to put my brand on my work. And that’s where this blog comes along.
It’s been dead for ages. 😛
I tried reviving it maybe once or twice before, but I never really got around to REALLY pumping it alive. But hopefully, with this NaPoWriMo thing, I’d be able to maintain it. I just want my work to be properly credited. I’m not the kind of person who wants all the glory for herself, and I’m not sure about whether I’d even get all that glory from my writings or ideas. But I think it’s an injustice not to give credit where credit is due, and if there’s one thing I HATE, it’s injustice. I don’t like it when I see injustice done to others, and though I honestly wouldn’t mind if someone were to take my work and claim it as his own (if it accomplishes the good in this world that I want my work to accomplish, then I’ll be as satisfied as Tesla or Jonas Salk), I think not standing up for myself would be a weird kind of hypocrisy. Also, I think it would be a wonderful way to learn discipline, political correctness, and technique in general. Plus I need to be more internet smart, teehee.
So there. Expect me (yes, EXPECT IT OF ME. I want your eyes to be the pressure under which I will be encouraged to write) to post my poems every day for the month of April. I’ll start with a poem blast of the ones I’ve written in the previous days, and then keep it up with a steady pace of probably one poem a day (to be posted on my Word page). And posts on other pages might show up any time in between, whenever I feel like it, or if I have something to yap about or share.
God bless you.