2/4/2019 3 Comments Composing an Emotional SceneAfter reading My Name is Margaret I’ve written my own emotional moment. One emotion Margret feels in her story is being scared. She is afraid that her life will become just like MIss. Glorys, who had put up with people like Mrs. Cullinan their entire life. My theme is sorta similar because I was genuinely scared for my sister when I had first found out she was pregnant. But, in the end of my story it ended up being a blessing.
The minutes were starting to feel like hours as I laid on my beige couch in my living room. My dad and sister sat on the couch across the room. It was weird seeing my dad just casually sitting here, something that should be so common but was now unrecognizable. But, I guess things like this bring everyone together. When I came home from school on just a normal Tuesday afternoon, I’d never expected my sister Anna to tell me she was pregnant, something that had made us both cry. Her being pregnant really wasn’t so bizzare, it wasn't like she was a 15 year old high school student. She was 24 years old with a boyfriend and a job. But, this was so weird. Anna loved to party and have fun, so the thought of her really growing up and having a family was just too weird to believe. I was scared for her, but I was also scared for myself. Who was going to get way too drunk with me on Thanksgiving now that she’s going to have another person to take care of?! But, nine months later as I waited at my house to hear from my mom that she had finally had him, I was never so excited for anything in my life. It was going to be crazy to have baby around, something our whole family hasn't seen in awhile. I was beyond excited to finally meet him, if he ever came. It felt like I could hear the clock ticking, which was pretty impossible considering we didn't even have a clock in my house. My dad was trying to distract me and my younger sister, Emily by watching movies but we all knew what each of us were thinking. As time went on and the night got later, it was hard to stay awake, especially knowing we couldn’t go see him tonight. I slowly fell asleep excited of what tomorrow would bring. I was woken up early the next morning, 7:30 to be exact and since I wasn’t going to school this was not in the plans. But, then I remembered what was going on. My sister tells me that Anna had a C section 3:22 AM. I quickly got dressed and my dad drove us to the hospital. Shortly after we were finally at the hospital. We reached the doors and as soon as you opened them you could immediately smell that gross hospital smell that only a psychopath would like. We walked into the her hospital room to see her holding the newest member of our family with the biggest smile across her face. Two and a half years later I couldn't imagine life without Ryan around. He has made our whole family so happy, especially my sister. Ryan has made all of our lives better in one way or another and I’m so happy to have him here.
3 Comments
1/24/2019 2 Comments Writing Process RoundtableHere are is story that helps better understand the meaning of writing using the articles,
I left the cold winter air behind me as I opened up the long clear door to the Starbucks. I walked up to the the register waiting to give my order when I heard from across the room a man shout to a Starbucks employee,
“There must be time for the writing process to take place and time for it to end!” I looked over to see anyone other than Don Murray! I was in shock. One of my literary idols sitting just a few feet away from me. The small Starbucks employee looked frightened. She said with a small voice, “Sir, you’ve been here for over 12 hours and haven't purchased anything, I would just like clean off the table.” He jolted up and looked at the clock on the end of the wall. He gathered up all of his papers pens and most importantly laptop and looked at the barista in the eyes and said intensely, “I would tell you how the writer must work within the stimulating tension of unpressured time to think and dream and stare out windows, but fortunately for you I’m rather late for something important!” Then with in a blink of an eye he was out the door. I panicked. I can’t just like what could potentially be the greatest moment of my life escape me before I get a chance to make it happen. Before i knew what I was doing I was dashing out the door shouting, “Don Murray! Don Murray!” He quickly turned around and looked at me with fiery. I Stepped back a little. “I’m sorry I’m just a little bit nervous, I’m one of your biggest fans.” I said quickly. Before he could answer a black limo pulled into the parking lot and stopped right before us. He looked back at me,” That's great kid. I’ve got a few other people I bet you’d be pretty happy to meet, why don’t you hop in.” I was startled. I stared at him blankly. He shrugged his shoulders and opened the door to the stretched car and hopped in, leaving the door open as an invitation. I looked around and slowly walked closer to the door and peeked in to see, Mary Karr and Anne Lamott sitting next to Don. I blinked hard and got into the car. “Our new friend here is a big fan,” Don said to the other two geniuses. “Oh wow!” exclaimed Mary, “do you have any questions for us?” My eyes widened. I looked down at the black carpeting and said, “How do you make writing so fun? Sometimes it's so unbearable for me?” Mary laughed and replied, “Writing is painful—it’s “fun” only for novices, the very young, and hacks.” “But isn't it hard when you're constantly having to revise and fix things?” “In the long run, the revision process feels better if you approach it with curiosity. Each editorial mark can’t register as a “mistake” that threatens the spider ego. Remind yourself that revising proves your care for the reader and the nature of your ambition” Mary responded pretty confidently. I looked up and saw the three of them staring at me, waiting for me to ask something else. So I did. “Uh, do you ever feel like your writing isn't good enough?” Don looked at me with disgust, “The student is encouraged to attempt any form of writing which may help him discover and communicate what he has to say.” Anne looked at me and smiled, “Very few writers really know what they are doing until they've done it. Nor do they go about their business feeling dewy and thrilled.” Mary sat up a little bit, “Try getting some feedback, try learning how to cut out the dull parts. Even the smallest towns have coffee shop bulletin boards or community centers with a writer’s workshop now. Even the less good groups can help you by speaking for your potential reader—they’re way better than the echo chamber of your own head.” I smiled at them. “What I've learned to do when I sit down to work on a shitty first draft is to quiet the voices in my head. First there's the vinegar-lipped Reader Lady, who says primly, “Well, that's not very interesting, is it?” And there's the emaciated German male who writes these Orwellian memos detailing your thought crimes,” Anne said out of nowhere. I was stunned they’ve taught me so much in such a short span of time. “Any other questions?” Mary said with a smile. I shook my head no in disbelief of all that had happened tonight. “Have anything you could teach us?” Don spoke. I looked at the three of them for what felt like an entirety but in reality was about five seconds. “I personally feel as though you should only write if you really love it. When you take away the love, you take away the passion. There is just no need to do it anymore if you don’t have passion.” They all stared at me. “Also, you should never have to force writing. It should just come to you. Whether it comes to you in the middle of the day while you're grocery shopping to the middle of the night while you're sleeping. Write down any thoughts you have before they're gone.” They all had these long smiles on your faces. “Anything else?” Mary said. “I guess that you should try to risks in your writing. Don’t always write what you know. Sometimes I repeat my writing and it sounds so played out. I need to learn to take more risks with my writing and so should everyone else.” We all stared at each other in silence for a while. Then finally don said, “How about some coffees from Starbucks.” And so we did. 1/24/2019 1 Comment The Proust QuestionnaireHere are my responses to the Proust Questionnaire. __1.__What is your idea of perfect happiness?
__2.__What is your greatest fear?
__3.__What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
__4.__What is the trait you most deplore in others?
__5.__Which living person do you most admire?
__6.__What is your greatest extravagance?
__7.__What is your current state of mind?
__8.__What do you consider the most overrated virtue?
__9.__On what occasion do you lie?
_10.__What do you most dislike about your appearance?
__11.__Which living person do you most despise?
__12.__What is the quality you most like in a man?
__13.__What is the quality you most like in a woman?
__14.__Which words or phrases do you most overuse?
__15.__What or who is the greatest love of your life?
__16.__When and where were you happiest?
__17.__Which talent would you most like to have?
__18.__If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
__19.__What do you consider your greatest achievement?
__20.__If you were to die and come back as a person or a thing, what would it be?
__21.__Where would you most like to live?
__22.__What is your most treasured possession?
__23.__What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
__24.__What is your favorite occupation?
__25.__What is your most marked characteristic?
__26.__What do you most value in your friends?
__27.__Who are your favorite writers?
__28.__Who is your hero of fiction?
__29.__Which historical figure do you most identify with?
__30.__Who are your heroes in real life?
__31.__What are your favorite names?
__32.__What is it that you most dislike?
__33.__What is your greatest regret?
__34.__How would you like to die?
__35.__What is your motto?
|
Kayla JacksonI will use this blog to make posts for my English class. ArchivesCategoriesAll Identity Narrative Writing Process |