Collegiate Literary Madness and Choosing Your Own Ending
My last year of undergrad, I still had a few core classes to complete. As part of the liberal arts degree program, regardless of my chosen major, I had to take a certain number of classes across disciplines. As a first-year student, I signed up for a class in British literature to fulfill an English composition requirement; what I assumed would be a charming collection of studies on anything from Shakespeare to Austen quickly disintegrated into my most despised class of the semester, and perhaps my entire undergrad career. For starters, the instructor made the decision to switch the content from British literature to Scottish literature, because (and I quote): "I love Scotland. I've been to Scotland five times..." Scotland, Scotland, Scotland. And after all, it's part of the British Isles. Always a curious student, I allowed myself the hope that it could be slightly interesting. And as eccentric as the prof seemed...he was probably quite knowledgeable. Cue the insanity. Not only did I pay a ridiculous amount of money for the books required in the class, they hardly made sense to me! As an 18-year old college freshman, I did not have time to work my way through the original King's English with the Scottish variations of the spelling let alone compose a 12-page essay on Sir Walter Scott's Waverly. Apparently it was a romance? I was so confused with the text that I cannot recall a woman appearing anywhere in said volume. I can say with confidence that I would enjoy the content of the class more now, having a better understanding of Scottish history (and enjoyment for the works of Liz Curtis Higgs); but at the time, without any context and a full course load, I was writhing in Scottish literary misery.
All of that to say I was nervous about taking another literature course. I knew I would never take a class from that instructor again, but I needed two more literature classes to fulfill my humanities requirements. My senior year, I signed up for Young Adult Literature and sent a heartfelt plea heavenward. I had an interesting mix of classmates, mostly English majors, and many of them just taking the class for the pure joy of literature. I was not sure what to anticipate. Being the lone history major, I was delighted when the choices for the class included books by Lewis and Tolkien. (We also read The Princess and the Goblin by George MacDonald.) Add to this mix a quiet but passionate professor, and it was a wonderful semester. Her love of literature, specifically the selected texts, made it a fun class. She was clearly a huge fan of Lewis and Tolkien and shared many stories about them. They were great friends and writing buddies. I like to think of it as a literary bromance if you will. In addition to their writing, they discussed matters of faith and the responsibility to weave that faith into their works. We spent many hours in class discussing and debating its effectiveness, but something Tolkien believed has always stuck with me. He took very seriously to the idea that we, as God's creation, are in fact, sub-creators.
As a writer and an artist, this concept really resonated with me. On a grander scale, if we are all sub-creators, then we must be conscious of how we create our own reality. I am guilty of sometimes falling prey to bouts of self-pity. I think part of the human condition is looking around you and asking "Why me?" If life is a choose-your-own-ending novel, the more appropriate question is: "Why not me?" Any good story shares a dance with adversity, but no matter how dire the circumstances, the hero or heroine must seek to overcome. My wish is not to make light of life's travails. I just want that thought out there.
Realize that now, in this moment of time, you are creating. You are creating your next moment based on what you are feeling and thinking...
Keep your eyes ahead, your toes pointed forward, and your feet moving.
Now also seems like a good time to let you know I hated choose-your-own-ending books. Why? I was worried about choosing the wrong ending, of course!
All of that to say I was nervous about taking another literature course. I knew I would never take a class from that instructor again, but I needed two more literature classes to fulfill my humanities requirements. My senior year, I signed up for Young Adult Literature and sent a heartfelt plea heavenward. I had an interesting mix of classmates, mostly English majors, and many of them just taking the class for the pure joy of literature. I was not sure what to anticipate. Being the lone history major, I was delighted when the choices for the class included books by Lewis and Tolkien. (We also read The Princess and the Goblin by George MacDonald.) Add to this mix a quiet but passionate professor, and it was a wonderful semester. Her love of literature, specifically the selected texts, made it a fun class. She was clearly a huge fan of Lewis and Tolkien and shared many stories about them. They were great friends and writing buddies. I like to think of it as a literary bromance if you will. In addition to their writing, they discussed matters of faith and the responsibility to weave that faith into their works. We spent many hours in class discussing and debating its effectiveness, but something Tolkien believed has always stuck with me. He took very seriously to the idea that we, as God's creation, are in fact, sub-creators.
As a writer and an artist, this concept really resonated with me. On a grander scale, if we are all sub-creators, then we must be conscious of how we create our own reality. I am guilty of sometimes falling prey to bouts of self-pity. I think part of the human condition is looking around you and asking "Why me?" If life is a choose-your-own-ending novel, the more appropriate question is: "Why not me?" Any good story shares a dance with adversity, but no matter how dire the circumstances, the hero or heroine must seek to overcome. My wish is not to make light of life's travails. I just want that thought out there.
Realize that now, in this moment of time, you are creating. You are creating your next moment based on what you are feeling and thinking...
-Doc Childre
Keep your eyes ahead, your toes pointed forward, and your feet moving.
Now also seems like a good time to let you know I hated choose-your-own-ending books. Why? I was worried about choosing the wrong ending, of course!
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