— Maggie Stiefvater (via beingascripturient)
1. Bigger really is better for hair. If you can make it poofier, do it. More curls are better. If you have short hair, you can pretty much forget about winning, no matter how cute you are at everything else.
2. If you have a choice between wearing formal wear, and wearing slightly more casual formal wear, always wear more formal wear. The more layers of skirt, the better. The more sparkles, the better. The longer the skirt, the better.
3. Fake smiling is always a good thing. The more fake smiles, the better. Don’t worry about being oversaccharine. Also, blowing kisses to the judges=cute and adorable.
4. Make sure you practice your pageant wave, pageant skirt twirls, and pageant hand on hip turns.
5. If you are asked questions at a pageant, do NOT worry about being original in your answers or about sounding superficial. And if they ask you for any “favorite,” make sure that you list three or four things, or as many as you can think of. Whatever you do, do NOT admit that you disagree with the premise of the question to begin with.
6. Remember, the best part of a pageant isn’t winning and proving yourself more beautiful and therefore more valuable than any other girls—it’s the friendships you form while primping in the bathroom and the fun you have on stage making eye contact with judges you have never met before, and learning how to feel “confidence.”
Look— Jane Austen included characters of color. Stop citing “historical accuracy” with an all white cast.
So, there’s this Jane Austen game that people keep pointing me to with great excitement. There’s been some conversation in the community because all of the characters in the prototype are white. Their FAQ says:
Will you provide choices in race and…
There are books dog-eared, opened, marked with weird bits of paper and perhaps fluids you would not like to think too clearly about strewn about the house.
“Just one last page,” lasts for two hours at night, and the light never goes off. Buy yourself a face mask because otherwise you will never get any sleep.
The annual family budget for books exceeds the budget for gas, movies, and cable television combined.
There is a “books are to be read at the dinner table” policy firmly enforced.
Having three copies of a beloved book is not too much of a good thing.
A book signed by the author can never be given away, no matter how bad it actually turned out to be.
The library is the most common destination for date night events.
The world revolved around release dates for books rather than movies.
You have to sit through an extensive revision of every book, movie or TV show you’ve ever admitted to liking.
You have never chosen a book yourself, because you already have a TBR pile nearly as big as a writer’s, and if you don’t finish the books suggested, you get that pouty look.
I have heard every one of these bits of advice, and heard them insisted upon.
1. Write every day.
2. Write only when the muse strikes.
3. Write for the market.
4. Write for yourself and yourself alone.
5. Write only by outline.
6. Outlines are for sissies. Write in the moment; be inspired.
7. Start writing short stories.
8. Write a novel first. A born novelist only writes novels.
9. You must have an agent to sell a book.
10. You must sell a book to get an agent.
You are likely somewhere in between these extremes, like most writers are. You will spend some time figuring out what kind of writer you are, and then going with that. Then for years you will think of yourself as this kind of writer. And you will be.
Except you will find that book you have to write that forces you out of the pattern you’ve always been successful at. Write that book. Be afraid of it and write it anyway. Tell the stories only you can tell. Write the words you know other people need to hear. Do it when you can, and give yourself a break when you can’t.
Being a writer isn’t all that much different from being a person. You do the work that comes to you and you do it as well as you can. And when life demands new work, you do that, too.
I see the gaslighting, I see the status quo perpetuating itself, I see people endlessly justifying this behavior, excusing it, and telling women that how they experience their own lives in wrong. That no matter what, we don’t get to define what happens to us. Because if we do, then we are “crazy” or wrong or “too sensitive”. We should just shut up and let other people tell us how things “really” are. Because we can’t be trusted to know how our own realities have shaped us.
We’re told not to “make” men feel bad about what other men do. That relaying our stories is generalizing and condemning and unfair. We’re told it’s our responsibility to “get over it”. To internalize every single thing we are subjected to as “just the way it is” and, ultimately, our fault for existing as women in spaces. For existing in the world. For trying to make our way in that world and be treated as human beings.
We are told: don’t feel this way. Don’t think these things. Don’t express normal human emotions, like anger and resentment, about upsetting experiences. Stop talking about things we don’t want to hear about. Stop telling us we are complicit through our inaction. Stop expressing yourself in ways we don’t like. Stop making us uncomfortable about the things that go on around us that we don’t see/ignore. Don’t trust yourself. Don’t exist in ways we don’t like. Don’t exist in “our” spaces. Don’t try to live your life like it matters. Like it’s important. Like you have the right to be here.
Women don’t exist for you to approve of or to make you feel better about the shitty way the world works. We don’t exist for you at all. We exist for ourselves. And we’re going to keep demanding for our rightful place in the world whether you like it or not.
You can get on that bandwagon or you can fuck, permanently, off."