Since taking up F.C.’s “June Jour” writing challenge, I’ve diligently made an effort to create a response to each prompt within that day or the next. I have played catch-up a couple of times, but I still did manage to formulate responses. However, there are a couple of prompts that I haven’t fulfilled yet, thanks to writers block over the subject matter. I will make an effort in this post to fulfill both of those challenges, which is good since I feel they are related. Call it killing two metaphorical birds with one stone, if you will.
The first prompt that gave me writers block, and the hardest of the two, was this prompt F.C. posted on June 23:
Imagine having a conversation with your 10-year-old self. How would it go? Write your post in dialogue form, as if you are actually having a conversation.
Now, my general mindset/process with most of these June Jour prompts has been read the challenge early in the day; allow my mind the rest of the afternoon to slowly, gradually think of a response; and spend the evening or, if necessary, the next morning to type up and post a response, fighting off a short attention span easily pulling my mind toward other things.
For this prompt, however, my mindset went in the exact opposite direction. The day the prompt was posted, I read it at lunch and thought with self-optimism, “Oh, Boy! Do I remember when I was 10 years old!” As the afternoon went on, though, my mind began reminding myself all that happened the year I turned 10: It was during that year that my mom met and married my stepfather. I would struggle to adjust to this new man in our lives; his children from his previous marriage; the frustrations of life he brought home with him; and his ideas of punishment (let’s just say I still think that Dad, and later Mom, were too quick to put the belt to my posterior for what they perceived I did wrong). Needless to say, all those changes freaked me out and led me to becoming more shy and uneasy, and teasing from others at school sure didn’t help matters.
Oh, boy, do I remember when I was 10 years old.
So understanding all that, you could figure out why I would be hesitant about drawing up an imaginary conversation with my 10-year-old self. It’s not that I would become nervous about meeting my younger self; it’s just that it would be a one-sided conversation, with my adult side doing all the talking and the kid beside me two nervous and withdrawn to say much of anything:
So, are you still excited yet about your new dad? This is a big time for you and your family.
Um, I guess so.
How about this new house? It’s a great house. You should be happy to live here.
Yeah, I suppose.
How’s 5th grade going for you? Are you getting good grades? Learning a lot of new things there?
Well, let’s talk about your trip to Yellowstone Park last summer. I bet that was a fun time, wasn’t it?
Yeah, I guess so.
Well, please don’t become too scared; it’s not healthy for you. You’ll start feeling better about yourself real soon, just wait and see.
I hope so.
Not a very scintillating stream of dialog, now is it? Thinking about that “conversation,” I think I understand my parents’ side of things somewhat. They would’ve loved for me to get out of my bedroom and at least socialize with the rest of the family. Instead, I was fearful of things, including fear over my parents’ frustrations over me. Would I have felt the same after that talk with myself?
Mind you, this conversation would have taken place just before we moved to another house and another year or so before I discovered in that house that stash of women’s clothing that would forever change my life.
Speaking of my life, the second prompt that F.C. sent out and I had a long time forming a response for came out on June 26. It was this:
Imagine Hollywood was producing a film about your life. Who would play you, and what parts of your life would you include (or omit)?
Hmmm…. my life as a motion picture? No, as interesting (or not-as-interesting) as I make my life out to be online and in this blog, I’ve never considered my life to be Hollywood material. Heck, Sundance would probably yawn uncontrollably after seeing my life story. But if they were to come calling, I would want my biographical film to be simple and modest, likely more of a short documentary than a full-length motion picture. It’d definitely not be the type of film Miramax would shove down the Academy’s throat at Oscar time.
What would that film include? Well, since that first moment I began wearing women’s clothing is an important turning point, it would have to be the key centerpiece of the entire picture. It wouldn’t be the only centerpiece, of course, for topics of my work life and dress-up life as an adult would be included, especially my relocation to Madison 13 years ago (another momentous occasion in my life); but the whole story of my life would have to orbit around the day I discovered that stash of feminine attire.
As to the question about who would play me? Well, I wouldn’t be interested in having a big-name star play myself in the film, especially since I wouldn’t have a clue as who could fill my high heels on the screen (I’m not a good judge of talent). Since I mentioned I would prefer this film to be a documentary, I would probably be the sole voice as narrator. I don’t say this out of any vanity; I’m just one who feels she’s the best at telling her own story.
Lest you think the film would be nothing more than myself sitting down in front of the camera and reciting my life story, I imagine most if not all of my biopic to be animated. Not the 3D animation so prevalent in films today, but the good old 2D, ink-and-paper style. I get this inspiration from Hannah Gotta’s WordPress blog. If you’ve seen her blog or her work in Frock magazine, Hannah puts down most of her thoughts and adventures about crossdressing and transgender life in illustrated form. I truly think Hannah’s work is absolutely fascinating, and it would be amazing if the producers of my biopic could find an animation team who could produce work half as good as Hannah’s.
So there, the two biggest “June Jour” obstacles cleared. *whew* Yeah, it took me a long while to think of a response, and it was a touchy subject for me, but I finished the assignment (and just in time for the last day of June). Oh, yeah, that reminds me… something else I would talk to my 10-year-old self about would be to finish every school assignment as best as possible, especially mathematics.
You know, leaving a blank answer in the notebook because you can’t figure out the problem doesn’t make a good impression on your teacher, or your report card.
What would you talk to your 10-year-old self about? And how would your life story appear on the screen? Let me know in the comments below. Thank you.