Being the daughter of a full-time modern mother is very confusing. She comments on my Facebook wall posts, takes the Mickey out of my pictures, and generally embarrasses me. She is on the computer more than I am and I’m seventeen – uh, hello? Who’s the teenager here? She gets excited when she gets new Facebook friends or new Blogger followers. She’s constantly looking at her blogs viewing figures and then screeching when she beats her last average. She is fanatic about her books and her reading – reading books when she’s in bed, on the toilet, and when we’re supposed to be watching TV. But then again, she tweets when she’s doing those things too.
Being the daughter of a writer is another thing. She moans when she has no inspiration, even though she’s constantly coming up with new and inventive things to write about. It does get me down when she gets sad about not finding an agent and then seeing others get published. I think it makes her feel like she’s getting pushed down, like she’s not good enough. But she is, and I just wish my mum’s dream could come true – I hope that one day it will.
Because my mum writes, it used to inspire me to write, although I was never very good at it – my stories were dull, and a little bit short. I could never find the write kind of stuff to fill up a whole book! I used to write about talking animals – thanks to the Warrior Cats series – and I loved getting immersed into my own world. The only problem with this was that I couldn’t quite get the words onto the page; I think I was about 9 when I wrote them, so the stories were best kept in my head. I then wanted to become an author myself, before discovering my love for cameras and photography, and then my love for moving image rather than photographs!
Being an English Literature student I have had to read two novels and two selections of poetry (and blogged about it here) but I hate being forced to read something. If I want to read it, I will choose to read it, don’t force it on me! Sadly, I have another year of having to read books pushed in my direction, but hopefully they’ll be more interesting than these last ones. Though because of this course I have realised that Auden was a great poet and that Browning was a little bit messed up – I never thought I’d be able to appreciate poetry the way I do now. Speaking of which… I should probably be revising them now!
So my mother, my wonderful, beautiful, inspirational mother has way more talent than any agent has managed to read into her books so far, and hopefully she’ll be picked up sooner rather than later. I know she deserves it. Followers and viewings make her seem appreciated – so keep it up! Make my mum feel like the special person she is!
NB: No bribes were passed before, during OR after the writing of this, although a tear may have been shed following the reading of it. I *heart* my girl!
