#37: 22 March 2009
Good: Jammie lent me all her Sims CDs!
Bad: Two were corrupted
FML: None are compatible with Windows Vista.
*
My last post was called Pink Chalk because that was the title of a short story I wrote for a creative writing class I took in my sophomore year.
It was based on a true story. I did have friends called Rachel and Nabila. And they did unfriend me.
Not because I refused to lend them my color pencils! But because I got first place in my class and they were jealous and told all the girls not to talk to me wtf.
There was no pink hopscotch map and no kicking little Indian boys in their shins.
There was, however, crying in my bed at night (BECAUSE I HAD NO FRIENDS DAMMIT) and my mother going to see my teacher and then my teacher telling everybody to be friends with Audrey and tadah I had people to spend recess with again wtf.
Rachel is now happily married and a photographer in South Carolina. Nabila is… well I don’t know what Nabila is but there are plenty of pictures of her on Facebook in skimpy clothing with white/mixed men.
Anyway, I wrote what I did because my teacher told me to write about something you really know.
I took that class because I liked writing. And I still do. But back then I remember feeling so nervous about the class because it was filled with strong opiniated American women (ie. English being their first language) with great speaking skills who liked to read aloud their essays and merrily criticized everyone but themselves.
But when we all submitted our final pieces I got an A on mine (and I hardly get As! only A-s). The teacher took me aside and told me this was something I should pursue but then the next semester I went to Japan and when I came back I pushed writing aside and took up Studio Art instead (which got me a fucking B and pulled down my GPA so I couldn’t graduate magna cum laude wtf)
It took me 3 years to decide to post the piece on my blog but one second to take it down.
Because someone said it was stupid and boring *sigh
I like writing a lot. But I’m too scared that I actually suck at it. So I don’t try very hard so that no one can say I tried and failed.
I think I’m too chicken to face rejection and failure more than anything else.
edit: i’m reposting the piece here. thank you to everyone who’s been so encouraging:)
Pink Chalk
I scrutinize the pile of colored chalk in front of me. Few are full sticks, most are broken pieces; little more than powdery crumbs of pastel shades. Carefully I extract a pink piece that is larger than the rest. Pink because it is my favorite, and therefore also my lucky color. Luck because I will need it today. Today I have a plan.
I push myself off the cement bench I was sitting cross-legged on, and deliver a few quick slaps to the back of my shorts to shake off dust and bugs. (Once ants crawled up my pants and it hurt so much I cried even though I am seven years old, a big girl.) Then, gripping the pink chalk firmly with my hand, I crouch down on the cement sidewalk and deliberately, carefully press the chalk down on the ground and create a slow heavy line, straight as can be.
Footsteps clop, clop, clop from behind, but I barely hear them. It’s my Mummy with a yellow umbrella to shield against the sun. “Baby, what are you doing?” she asks, her eyes squinting in the bright light.
I don’t look up from my thick pink lines, but I say firmly, “I’m making a hopscotch map.”
Mummy squats down next to me, and with the hand that’s not holding the umbrella, starts picking up my chalk pieces, one by one. “This can wait,” she tells me. “Come inside, I’ve got iced Milo in your pink cup waiting for you. Come inside.” She stands up and holds out her hand.
I am silent and don’t move from my spot on the ground. “I’m making a hopscotch map,” I say again.
Mummy looks at me with a sharp look in her eye. She knows I never refuse iced Milo. But still I keep quiet, unwilling to tell her what has happened.
After a moment, Mummy says, “Okay darling, come in when you’re ready.” And then she clop, clop, clops back up to the house.
I look at her retreating back, watch as she slips off her plastic sandals at the front door, until she disappears into the living room. Then I turn back to my pink chalk.
The sun is making X-rays on my back but I don’t care. This has to be the best, most beautiful hopscotch map in the whole neighborhood. So I slit my eyes against the midday sunlight and concentrate on keeping the lines straight and the squares square.
When I’m done with the most beautiful hopscotch map in the world, everything will be fine again. Rachel and all the rest will forget what happened and I will have friends.
Last Friday during Art, Nabila had tapped me on the shoulder and asked, “Can I borrow your colored pencils?”
And I had shook my head and said, “I forgot to bring them.” But in actual fact, my cardboard box of colored pencils was safely tucked between my knees, hidden under the skirt of my pinafore.
Later when it was time for recess, I had forgotten all about my fib, and stood up, knocking my pencils to the floor with a clatter. Then everybody had found out that I had told a lie because I didn’t want Nabila using up all the pink, and for the rest of the day, nobody would talk to me and I had to eat with the boys.
But I know when I’m done with my plan, things will be right again. I will have friends and I can eat with Rachel and the rest at recess once more.
I stand up, dust the chalk dust from my hands, dust the bugs from my pants, and skip down the street in search of Rachel.
Even though I’m in a hurry, I remember all the safety steps Mummy and my teacher taught me. Never walk on the street, always on the pavement. Only cross when there’s a zebra on the road, and you have to look right, then left then right again.
My steps slow down when I see the playground ahead of me. I mount the cement steps leading up to it, careful not to look down at the big ditch underneath; I don’t want to fall into it. I am glad to find Rachel and Nabila sitting on my favorite red swing, using their legs to kick themselves as high as they can go.
My pink rubber sandals suddenly seem as heavy as anchors. They have seen me coming, and instead of the “Hi!” and wave that I expect, they are poking each other in the ribs and cupping their hands around each other’s ears and whispering. But then I remember my lucky hopscotch map at home.
“Hi!” I say brightly.
Rachel and Nabila use their feet to brake their swinging but they are silent, not answering my hello, not even looking in my direction. Nabila glances at Rachel. I think she’s waiting to see what she will do, but Rachel just looks down and smoothes out sand with the toe of her sneaker. The only sound I can hear is that of the trucks zooming on the big street across from us.
I count to five slowly in my head in case they decide to say anything. “I’ve just finished making a brand-new hopscotch map,” I tell them.
Quiet.
“It’s really pretty. I spent a lot of time making it. Do you want to come over?” I ask hopefully. I get an idea. “And maybe after that we can go in and have iced Milo and then play Barbies, my Dad just got me a new lady and-”
To my surprise, Rachel pushes herself off her swing, stretches out her hand to Nabila who takes it, and says in a loud voice, “We don’t play with selfish people!”
Then holding hands, they run away, kicking up sand and gravel beneath their feet as they go.
I am left standing by myself at the swings. Some boys from my class have arrived at the playground with a football but they are not playing, just standing there and looking at me. An Indian boy, littler than me, his shorts pulled up to his ribs, giggles and points at me. I can hear a few titters scattered among them.
My nose tickles even though the sun is still high up in the sky and it’s hot. I think I’m going to sneeze, but then I feel a tear roll down my cheek.
So I run towards the Indian boy, kick his right shin and give him a push hard enough to send him backwards onto his rump. Then I fly down the cement steps, over the ditch and back to my Mummy, iced Milo and my pink hopscotch map.
Comments (51)
FTS.. which stupid & boring fucktard told you it was stupid & boring (takes one to know one)? Now we all can’t read!! MH!!!!!!!
what a waste. the story affected me deeply as i was once in your shoes, of a similar case.
i’m glad i had the chance to read it before it was taken down. it’s really good, describes precisely and exactly the situation + feelings i once felt… i now know i was not alone
you should continue writing.. you never know. you might be the next jk rowling..
Please continue writing Audrey… I do actually enjoy reading pink chalk… It was really child-like and sort of brought me back to my childhood days… U’ll do very well… Don’t mind rejection, have faith in yourself! Look forward to your next writing 🙂
i read the story and it was beautiful (: i look forward to an ending.
it was really good! i thought it was an extract from a book you’re reading since you were talking about purchasing new books. dont stop doing what you’re good at! 🙂
i do love your blog, not only because of your pics, but also the quirky lines that you’d made up and how you express yourself through words…. all in all, i love your writing.. so don’t doubt about your essay skill…. its totally a “pass with distinction” ^__^
I agree with the other commentors!
I love how you write and I try to read the books you occasionally blog about so that I can write just like you =P
i thought it was quite good! and i honestly thought it was by some writer /boo u should write more ok this time about the club wtf
WHO SAID UR STORY WAS BORING?? WHO?!?!?!
I’m glad I read it before it was taken down (repost it!) I thought it was a short story from some Asian literature and I really enjoyed it!
Even the best writers face(d) criticism and probably failure before they became great writers.
It’s probably ingrained in our culture to fear failure and rejection but have the courage to overcome that if that’s what you really want. 🙂
you write very well and super funny wtf
why did you take it down it was good 🙁
it was a good story audrey! i do und the fear of rejection, i am the same. but you’re good don’t worry! 😀
ya, you shdn’t have taken it down. your writing is really good! i enjoyed reading it. i was like, hoping there’s a next chapter. but i also like to read open-ended stories like this one. ..er, i think it was somehow open-ended? .. i need to read it again! heh. do post up more of yr short stories (:
uve to believe urself, audrey ! ^^
dont u feel ur wasting ur talent just cos of few comments … so they hv different taste n opinion! u cant please everyone …
write more, audrey ! xo
the article is still available at your blorc. faster go and remove them if you really dont want anyone to judge anymore. i personally think it’s a good piece though.
don’t listen to stupid people who probably cannot write to save their pet worm’s life! did not f. scott fitzgerald say “write not becasue you want to say something, write because you have something to say.” (paraphrased?)
i personally loved it. i loved how it was partly whimsical, how you described small details that made a big difference, and how perfectly you channeled the emotions in this piece. i felt the hope, the hurt, the pain.
and that, is what makes an excellent piece of writing.
You write really well. that’s why people keep coming back. be confident. 🙂
Wow…I thought you extracted that from some books that you read. You can write very well. Pls don’t stop. You’ve talents…serious it is a good piece of work :))
Success comes from failures/mistakes. Without failures, success is less meaningful.
Just do it.
wtf y u took down!!! i reli liked it lor! i’m glad i had d chance to read it too… damn d stupid commentor grrrr
There are times in life when due to ignorance (and sometimes arrogance) we see past and dismiss the good things in life. We miss them out and never get a second chance of ever seeing them again.
Just today I had one such experience that reminded me to pay attention to the little things in life that we too often take for granted. It all stemmed from this story you wrote.
When I first saw it when I woke up yesterday morning I read the first two lines, lost interest and skipped the rest. The whole body of text looked a little too long and I lacked the patience to sit down and read it.
Today though I found out that all that text was written by you, my very own girlfriend. So I admittedly decided to give it a second shot at reading it. This time I took the time to drop everything else I was doing in my day for 5 minutes just to read it.
In the 3 minutes that I took to read it, I felt my mind wander away from the office skyscraper that I’m in right now smack in the middle of KL. I found myself instead in a quiet far away suburb that had a little girl drawing on a pavement. Reading it put me in the shoes of the 7 year old girl in the story. I could imagine the surroundings around me and feel the girl’s emotions, something that I think only great writers are able to do with their pens. I can now see why you are very proud of this story you wrote for I would be too if I could ever write like that. The truth is I can’t and will probably never be able to.
One day when I have gone through life and am in my old age, I would really love to write a book about my life. About all the good and bad that I had gone through and all the success and failures, no matter how my life turned out. The thought of being able to share all the ups and downs, hurt and pain to anyone who’s willing to read just sounds so satisfying. I hope you’ll find it in your heart to write that one book for me one day. I’ll pay whatever I can 🙂
So thank you baby for reminding me that there are just too many little things in life that are too good to miss.
‘Pink Chalk’ reminds me of my bitter experience during primary school,when I was shunned by girls in my clique, because I was first in class and was teacher’s pet. That I almost forgot cos life moves on. I love writing as well,but unlike you,I don’t care what people say,I pretty much narcissistic 🙂 So,do keep writing! Cheers>
I came across “pink chalk” yesterday, and well … I thought it was too long … so I skipped the whole thing … until today, I came back again and you took the article down … but I’m glad you repost it, coz you’re really good in writing … thanks for posting it up again, giving me the chance to read it.
I loved your story.
I like writing too, but there seems to be so many other ‘more important things’ to do. I miss those secondary school days where I could write an exercise book full of stories and share it with my friends.
Uni may be the best time of your life but there are so many sacrifices to be made. Every moment is immersed in writing up assignments, getting interviewed, lecture reading and tutorial doing.
Your story made me realise how much I miss writing.
I agree how much courage it takes to allow someone to read a story you painstakingly wrote. The proud feeling however, when someone tells you how much they loved your story is one to cherish so forget about trolls who live to diss other people.
When 1 person who discourages you, remember, there are 4 others who would back you up.
your story, reminds me of mine.
the simplest words are heartfelt. thank you 🙂
i used to play Sims from 7pm, to 7am in the morning for a Week! then i realized its not normal i quickly QUIT wtf… its pretty addictive!
wow. seriously. WOW! Continue writting! U’re great at it! I wish I have the such great writting skills.
i really love the essay.. seriously.. need not to worry what others think.. just trust your heart and your guts.. hehe..
“But I’m too scared that I actually suck at it. So I don’t try very hard so that no one can say I tried and failed.
I think I’m too chicken to face rejection and failure more than anything else.”
too true for me >.< but you are an awesome writer! you have your way with words =) i had the most vivid picture in my mind while reading it
and it really is heart-felt. dont stop 😀
well, i tot it was quite nicely written too!
Wow, it reminds me a lot about what i used to face. I have a “gang” but there’s TWO girls who hates me cause I’m richer(not trying to show off here) than her. She would tell everyone not to friend me and I would eat alone during recess. I didn’t dare to make new friends because they made me believe that I SUCK.
You’re just lucky it happens to you once. For my case, it happens THREE TIMES.
Coz it happen to me again in my secondary school. This girl (not the one in pri sch) quarreled with me in school but she was really popular in sch so she convinced everyone she was right so again , I had no friends!
then in uni, it happens to me last year. I met this new friends and they were really homesick and all in the beginning of uni. I was thought to be independant since young so I was fine as compared to the rest. I took care of them like as if they were my family and do so much for them.They betrayed me one day – to the extend leaving me ALONE in a hotel room for a night. I felt like shit. I keep asking myself what went wrong.
Ofcourse, I do have my true friends but seriously, I never dubbed them as my “best friends” just incase there’s some jinx in it. Like i would lose them or smtg.
I read that short story before ANYONE *proud proud proud until duno what
Hey! I’ve been an avid reader for a really long time and this is the first time I’m actually commenting 😀
Either ways, REALLY encouraged by you! I can totally empathize the feeling of not wanting to show one’s art in fear of rejection. There are so many parts of my life where I know I have some talent but I never gave myself a chance to nurture those talents.
What little nurturing I did give to my arts eventually gets hidden in my room, away from the judgmental, critical eyes of everyone else.
And I know exactly how it feels to want to hide the moment someone says the smallest stupidest comment on your art.
Thank you! For being such an awesome example and posting the story(:
I really loved it. And I really loved how you overcame that personal barrier.
audrey, i’m on blogger.com and there’s this feature which allows us to “follow” a blog so that whenever that particular blog updates, it’ll appear on our dashboards. previously I linked fourfeetnine.blorc.com, and it worked fine, but when you moved and i changed the link to fourfeetnine.com instead, it relinked me back to fourfeetnine.blorc.com =( why lyddis ar, any idea ?
ok…i know nothing about writing…just drop by ! but still be proud about your talent….geting critic is awful..but sometime critic makes a people improve faster…and failure sometimes help people to understand more …….dont be stingy to hide ur talent…share with ppl who appreciate;-)
Your story’s so touching. I know how it feels coz it happened to me too.
You should continue to write more stories Audrey. Damn nice!!!
Hi Aud,
I thought I saw u having lunch with your colleagues just now… rite? with a blue stripes shirt…
I was thinking I missed reading your piece, when I realized you re-posted it.
Nice story. I had a tough time at school too, coz I wasn’t of the ‘right’ race. Dammit la. Stupid school and stupid kids.
pink chalk is not a diary.It is fictional but it somehow lead me to emphatise with the little girl. I feel as if i am watching an episode unfolding infront of my eyes. I’ve read it so many times and I still love it. Glad I stored the copy for you to post it on your blog. One day, I hope you will follow your dreams to get back to writing
Audrey!!!!!! I love this story u wrote. I always wished I can write better. I know my English is not good enough to write a story as such bcuz I just can’t express myself well and I am still hoping that one day I could you know? This story is simple and it stays in my head. As though I was that little girl, with no friends and kicked a guy on the shin (*beams*).
Unfortunately, until today, the things I write often wander pointlessly in the air and then when I realized, it’s too late to drag the story back. Especially when I am writing stories during exam. I would end up with abrupt ending bcuz I got no time to finish it. And if I am writing for leisure, I would have to stop writing and throw them into the dustbin cause they are of no good.
Persevere in this and I’m sure one day, I’ll be lining up to get your autograph. =))
it’s nice!!! i totally get you man haha.. it’s not boring at all, very interesting indeed. It’ll make a good story especially for lil girls.
The story is nice! Who said is boring?! Very very interesting! You should continue writing, never give up on it =)
Honestly, I really thought that your essay was a crap coz the first part of it was uh, boring. But as I reached the middle of it, I suddenly became interested and now it really sucks coz I really want to read some more. Do you plan to write a part 2 of it? Haha. If so, I’ll wait! 🙂
Anyway, I’ve never thought that you were selfish, Aud. Haha. Just kiddin.
You know what? I believe that your friends just overreacted. Why? Coz hello? for sure they also got this “selfish side” right? I mean, ALL of us got selfish too, in certain time and place, we are human ok! The important thing is that we learn to avoid this bad attitude and become a better person.
I believe that you’ve changed so much now Aud -Am I right? Haha. Nwo that you’ve changed, I dont see why your friends can’t accept you. Real friends help you to become a better person but also accepts you no matter your past is.
Keep smiling Aud. 🙂
it’s kinda weird feeling when i read. since all in present tense, it gives me the feeling that a young adult lady trapped in the body of a 7 years old girl.
anyway, so glad that you decided to post this again. i do like it, anticipating, what happen next,little girl? 😛 thanks.
if saying u’re my favourite blogger doesnt say alot abt your writing….. perhaps a matter of personal taste,but i believe your writing has that special power to draw me into the story i was hooked from the first few lines
and i’ve been believing that for a long time now
i think your teacher recognized something in you, but whatever us affectionate readers may say i guess you have to wrestle with this yourself, how you feel about your writing be your own harshest and most encouraging critic and all if it feels natural to write don’t let opinionated mobs stop you lol write what you want to read yourself, wouldnt that be wonderful
audrey it made me feel nice to see you have this other side to you that isnt really revealed in your blog often. youre a really humane person inside and you are really awesomely pretty and funny at the same time. i loved your story because of its simplicity and how it connected to you because i like your blog!
your writing inspired me because it helped me see the diversity of a human person, namely you. how versatile and different a person can be, all wrapped up into one.
believe in yourself yea, and in your writing. see all the nice comments people wrote! trust us, trust yourself 🙂
Wow Aud…you are REALLY GOOD!!!! The story was great, awesomely written, I loved the way you portrayed the emotions, everything…I really think that you should continue writing, otherways it is a wasted talent! Good luck! 🙂
hi audrey, i love ur story! simple and well-written. reminds me of my childhood…got shunned and lost many frens too in countless similar situations. oh wait, it still happens now coz some ppl r childish like tat 😀 I used to love writing as well, wrote a whole novel and a few short stories but i always tear them up in d end becoz it doesnt feel good enuf. Btw, i sometimes dont try very hard too so no one can criticize me if i suck. But u should continue writing…i’d love 2 hear more about what happened next 2 d lil girl!
i love, love, love it.