Blog #23: Reflective Prompts...the last blog (wow already?)

Reflective Prompts

1. What are your plans as a writer (how do you expect to use writing in your future)?
My plans as a writer are to simply continuing writing. I’ve always had a knack for creativity and story telling and so I won’t stop now. Writing will always be part of me whether it’s teaching or writing for my own pleasure. I do hope to write more non-fiction since I was exposed to it and enjoy it.

2. Describe any changes in your writing style.
There have been some changes in my writing style. Instead of just writing fiction stories, I have learned how to write nonfiction. I also started to write more reflections and thoughts rather than just a story.

3. Describe any changes in your writing process.
When it comes to writing, my main goal is to get my idea down on paper or word before I forget. Once I come up with an idea I just run with it. I like to write a rough draft and print it out. After I print it, I can reread it and make corrections and some suggestions. I like having my essays in my hands because I feel its more effective this way. It helps me see what parts are good and what parts need work. In terms of change I really don’t think there was a change; I mean I didn’t have a writing journal until this class. I just stare at the blinking cursor until an idea pops into my head. So a writing journal is something new and i plan to keep it handy in case i ever have the urge to write.

4. Describe any changes in your attitude toward/interest in/understanding of writing in general, and CNF in particular.
Writing in general can be tedious or fun. It really depends on the topic and what its for. For instance, writing a term paper can be extremely tedious especially if the topic is boring. However with this class we were really allowed to write about whatever we wanted as long as it fit the guidelines. I really liked that because I feel if given a choice, the effort and the result would be stronger. I still like writing and plan to continue writing whenever the free time comes around. Creative nonfiction was something I was never exposed to before. I was nervous in the beginning because I wasn’t sure if I could write non-fiction. Well guess what I actually can! I think its good to be exposed to different styles of writing. i never looked at objects in the way the class exposed me too. it gave me a whole new perspective. This class really got me excited about writing!

5. What have you learned about yourself as a writer?
As a writer I learned I can do more than I knew I could. As I mentioned before I didn’t think I could write nonfiction. Well it’s the end of the course and I wrote four nonfiction essays, go figure.

6. What features of your writing do you feel are most important for you to work on?
So I thought about this question for a bit because I wasn’t exactly sure. After looking at my long essays, I figured it out. I can be indecisiveness about my writing in terms of what parts aren’t necessary versus necessary. I tend to want to write everything out so the reader can understand and follow along. Sometimes it isn’t necessary and so I have to work on that. work on cutting out parts that arent neccessary and or irrevelent. Because I like to talk, my stories and such take more than a couple of pages.

Blog 22: Revised Draft # 3

Sent my revised essay as an email attachment =)

Blog 21: Publication Venue Presentation

Handout

After much researching and browsing, I think I finally found a place of publication. Let me tell you all about it.

Essay: As of this moment I have two essays that are related to the theme of the next issue's magazine. I am torn between two of my essays, "The Shell Smashing Speech" and "Just Jump."

• "The Shell Smashing Speech" is my essay that talks about how i overcame my fear of public speaking. it wasn't always easy for me to stand in front of a room and talk. I used to be a very very shy person, and now i can't keep quiet. the content of my essay involves three seperate stories of when i had to make a presentation. It goes from one of the horrible times to a presentation where it took guts and creativity to pull off.


• "Just Jump" is the second essay that i have written. This one is about a time i wanted to jump off the diving boards. One of the diviving boards was higher than the other. Well the lower diving board was packed, and so i went over to the higher one. I climbed to the top, and well....you can probably guess what happened next.

Place of Publication: The place i chose to send one of my two essays is to a magazine called Slice Magazine. (http://www.slicemagazine.org/index.php) They are a Brooklyn based nonprofit magazine, who understand that it's not easy to have your voice heard. Well-known writers and emerging writers are encouraged.

A quote from their site...."We're looking for anyone with a fresh voice and a compelling story to share--basically any work that really knocks our socks off."

Reading that quote gave me hope and also made me excited because it seems like I have a shot. I always say at least try because if you don't try, how will you truly know the outcome? They seem friendly, easy-going, and welcoming.

Subject Matter: Each of their issues are dedicated to a special theme. In their first issue, the theme was New Beginnings. The theme of their second issue was Heroes. For their third issue, the theme was in translation. Submissions for their fourth issue has ended, and so they did not mention the theme. The theme for their fifth issue is Fear. Seeing how their theme is fear, i immeditaely thought "Hey my first two essays are about fears, Perfect!"

Voice: The voice of this magazine is easy-going, compelling, and fun. i feel my essay fits with the voice of the magazine because my essays have some humor to them even though they are serious.

Modes of Writing

Form: The form of the magazines is short stories, poetry, interviews, fiction, nonfiction, and novellas.

Length: This was the tricky part. There was no mention of length. Browsing their online site, i came across a question asked by someone whose piece was 8,750 words. they were told while it may be too long for their blog, they can send it to the magazine. Now my essays fall in between 2,000- 3,000 words, so i will stick to the magazine.

Politics: The political and cultural orientation of the venue is general. They welcome established writers as well as emergining writers.

Characterization of the niche

The audience of Slice Magazine are people from all over the world.

The purpose, according to Slice Magazine is, "We aim to spark a dialogue between emerging and established writers. In each issue, a specific cultural theme becomes the catalyst for short stories, articles, interviews, and poems from renowned writers and lesser known voices alike."

Submission dates: Submissions will be taken from February 1st to April 1st of 2009. They ask to wait two to three months for a reply. They also ask to include detailed contact information. There is no fee

Manuscript Form: Submissions are to be sent electronically, in the body of an email. Manuscripts that are sent as attachments will not be looked at.

My essay in terms of the publication venue

After i decided to go with Slice Magazine, I browsed through some pieces that already exist. However, in order to browse some articles I had to subscribe. I saw Blog at the top of the site and so i clicked on it. My curiosity led me their blog site which had actual stories. I included an exerpt from their blog site.

"Welcome to our “Slices of Life” blog. The concept is simple: we want to take the time to focus on the little things in life that we normally would let pass us by, but that are actually the details that make the world extraordinary. We’ll be posting entries every few days from folks across the globe describing something they observe that makes them pause and smile or ponder their surroundings. We hope these everyday observations allow you to see the world in a new way. Enjoy!"

Some of the blog essays that I came across were called "Moods of New York" "Beer Goggles" 'Passing " and more. I know im steering away from the magazine, but i couldnt find any articles on the magazine site. This blog site is affiliated with the magazine. My essay itself differentiates from the others. It is unique and it talks about something we are all familiar with, diving boards and swimming pools, mentioned in my second essay.

Blog # 20: Relationship To My Essays

When it came to writing these essays, I had a few obstacles to jump over. The first was writer's block. What am i going to write about? I have a good idea in mind but i need to get it on paper. Once i was able to get my thoughts down on paper, the next step was to make sure it was creative nonfiction. The creative part came naturally, however I was stuck on whether or not it was nonfiction. After a few tries, I finally understood the concept. All of my essays have something to do with me and my life. Some of the topics were good things, while others were not so much good things. They were a mixture of emotions. I find it good to write about different emotions because in a way it is like therapy and it also helps in terms of clearing your thoughts in mind. It was easy to recall these moments and write about them. I am proud and happy with the essays that I have written.
In terms of revising my essay, I am not one hundred percent sure of how I am going to revise it. I have to put my essay aside and come back to it at a different time, so i can look at it fresh. If I do that I will see it in a different way and maybe something will trigger, such as a new idea, or a way I can change this or that. One thing I can say about it, is that throughout the revising process, I learn more and more about my writing and writing in general.

Blog #18: Draft of Essay 4

As I closed the refrigerator, I looked at the magnets and pictures that were on the fridge. On the freezer are a lot of magnets and photos. On the actual fridge part are two magnets and a sticker of where my siblings and I went to college. One of them is a Rider University magnet, where my brother is currently attending. My brother and I didn’t always get along, we had the typical brother and sister relationship.
. . .

Refrigerator magnets are often used to hold important notes on the refrigerator door. In this case, the Rider University refrigerator magnet holds the memory of the day my little brother left for college.
. . .

5:45 in the morning on a Sunday. It was a pretty hectic morning. We had to be out the door in an hour. An hour with four people in the house? Oh boy you bet it’s going to be fun. Ok I managed to eat two pancakes with some orange juice before hopping into the shower. It was a quick shower just enough time to wake up some more. I have no idea what to wear. I know it isn’t a fashion show, but I want to look somewhat presentable. I don’t think people are going to care about fashion while carrying boxes and hampers up the flight of stairs to their dorm rooms. Giving up on searching, I put on black Capri stretch pants and a maroon shirt.
Double-checking the van, we look around to make sure we have everything my brother needs. His room looks depressing because there isn’t much left in it. Its going to feel weird having the top floor of our house all to myself. I don’t like to be alone, and I am going to miss my brother being in the next room.
. . .
Even though it was only a forty-five minute ride, it felt like two hours. For starters, everyone in my family but my mother have “a heavy foot.” So of course that meant my brother was flying on the road, while my mother was being cautious trying not to overly exceed the speed limit while keeping an eye on my brother. My mom has been at the school with my brother before, but there are a few turns she isn’t sure about. Needless to say at least my brother will get there.

As we reached the town of Milltown, we become stuck behind a cop car. The cop decides to take all the time in the world and refuses to speed up. Now I’m not asking the cop to go a hundred miles, but just to move a little faster would be nice. We are watching as my brother slowly swerves back and forth because he is becoming anxious and just wants to get to school already. Five minutes later the cop makes a right turn into an empty restaurant. My brother glances at him as he presses down on the gas pedal and continues to go. Luckily the cop didn’t take notice, and we proceeded to continue the drive.
. . .
Finally pulling up to the school was a relief. We reach the school and see no one. We reach the school and see no one. We park in the visitors’ parking lot for now. In just a few hours my brother will be starting life at a new college, and I’ll be going home to a house of just three people not the usual four. We pull up to find four lanes with flags created to ease the moving in traffic. It is still early and move in isn’t until eight am. Its 7:15 right now that means we have forty-five minutes until we can begin the process of moving in. What is with forty-five minutes and me today? I have no idea.
. . .
On your marks, get set, gooooooooooo! The cars are off. First lap around and driver # 18 is in the lead. Wooohooo! Ok I know it wasn’t Nascar but the way it was set up, it felt like so. A blonde bubbly girl came over to my brother’s car to give him a number and something else. After she put the card on his windshield she bubbly proceeded over to our van. The girls topped as my mother rolled down the window to say hello. The girl smiled and explained to my mother that she is going to write the room number and the hall on an orange card and place it on the windshield. This card is for the campus people to know which cars are going to what building and what room in the particular building. After she put the card on the window, she kept talking with us. She told my parents how she moved in a few days ago and was excited about the other people moving in. Those who were in sports move in a few days earlier. I wasn’t sure what her sport was but by the looks of her attitude and outfit I am guessing she was a cheerleader.
. . .
"Hey brother, i need to use your laptop to print my paper for tomorrow morning. Can I send it to you and print it off your computer?" "Sure, just give me a few minutes. Email it to me." "Ok thanks!"

Eight a.m.!!!! Yes! It’s time to go. All the engines start up and the cars proceeded to go over to the dorms. I felt the adrenaline rush, and I was excited.
. . .
Being the middle child has its advantages and disadvantages. It seems likes everything skipped over me. For instance I played softball when I was younger but I stopped playing in middle school. The sports continued with my older sister and younger brother. They both continued playing sports until they graduated high school. My sister was the tennis star while my brother was the starter pitcher for the varsity baseball team. They were both popular in school and I was just there. My sister was extremely into her studies, I was semi into it, and my brother although who did his work, was more into the social life of school. They both had dealt with acne and thank goodness that skipped me. One thing about being the middle child is you have to fight for attention. This wasn’t the case. I can honestly say I was a spoiled child, but I am not one hundred percent innocent today. I received plenty of attention from my parents. Both my sister and my brother went away to school, and I commute to Kean University. I am happy with that because I feel more comfortable living at home.
. . .
We reach the dorms. We are the first car to show up. Wow we won the race! We get out of our cars and begin to take out the stuff. WAIT!! Did you know that we do not do a thing? Students volunteer to take everything for you up to the floor. They place the stuff outside your dorm room. So my parents are getting the stuff out handing it to the students. I’m standing on the gray sidewalk just looking like an idiot because there is nothing for me to do right now. People are asking me what room I’m in. I am like it’s not me. My brother is the one going here. Maybe I shouldn’t have worn a maroon shirt to the school where their colors are maroon and white.

BEEEEEEEEEEEEP, BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP, BEEEEEEEEEEEEP, BEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPPP! As mom was going to get stuff from the backseat of my brother’s car, his car alarm went off. Go freaking figure. My brother already went to get his key to see his room, and the rest of us are standing out here trying to get into his car to the backseat. After trying, my mom told me to get my brother to get his keys. I walk up to the building in to find five people sitting at a table with letters taped to the table. Ok I find R-Z and ask the girl if a really tall skinny kid named Michael came in yet. She goes yes he is the first one here; he will be right back down. Not thinking that I could have gone up, to the third floor, I went back outside to meet my parents. They tell me to go back up there, and so I did. As I reached the second floor I met my brother and told him mom tried to get into your backseat, and in trying to do she set off the car alarm.

Three flights of stairs later and we reach my brother’s dorm room. His room is right by the stairs, which is good and bad. It’s close to the staircase in case of emergency, however he has to hear everyone who comes up the stairs. In the room are three desks, three beds, and three dressers. It turns out my brother will be in a triple until there’s room for someone to move out. It was suppose to be two people but he got stuck with two other guys. Minutes later his first roommate, Mike showed up. Mike seems like he can get along with my brother. Along with Mike came his girlfriend Brittany. Mike only live fifteen minutes away, and I guess his parents did not want to come? We never found that part out, whatever. So we hang around as my brother begins unpacking his belongings and arranging his things in the room. His desk is in the far left corner of the room by the window, and his bed is behind it. By the door is his closet. The arrangement on the other side of the window is the same. In the back, middle of the room, is three dressers.
. . .
Reality is setting in that my little brother is officially not going to be living at home. Even though I call him my “little brother”, he is no longer a little boy now. He is all grown up getting ready for the next stage of his life; college. Now before I go on I must inform you that he is not a freshman. He went to Kean for a year and decided he wanted the campus life. I am really sad at this point because I realize this is it. I will not see him all the time like I did. I know he will be home very so often but it just won’t be the same. In the house will be my mother, my father, and me, the middle child, with all eyes on me.
. . .
Eleven a.m finally arrived and I don’t know about you, but I am starving and I know my father is. At eleven is a welcome buffet luncheon to family and students. My mom, dad, and I stood in line waiting for our turn to get some food. We filled up our plates and walked over to the tables to sit down and get started. Most of the tables were in the sun and we cant control the sun, so we just sat down anyway and began eating. Joining us at the table was my brother and one of his female friends. She is like a sister to him than a girlfriend. So we all ate and what not. We had a half hour to kill before the welcome ceremony held in the hall. It was a welcome and goodbye ceremony all in one. We walked around a little and even stopped in to see the basketball arena. My brother is extremely excited and even as the day went on I could see the excitement and nervousness in him.
. . .
A little boy with curly hair is running around the front yard laughing and having a ball, as his father is video taping him. Meanwhile this little girl is going up to the camera saying “film me daddy film me me daddy me.” The camera is now on this little girl as the boy is running around the yard. Now the camera has left this little girl and is now back to the boy.
. . .
The bookstore was crowded with parents and students looking at all the school merchandise and books that they will need to be getting. My brother couldn’t wait to get a sweatshirt, and so we all over there browsing through. Moving the hangers, I looked for a size large for him. He tried it on and it was a perfect fit. The smile on his face grew bigger as he proudly walked over to the mirror to check himself out. My mom’s phone rang and it was her sister. Recently, my grandmother found out she had cancer and it hasn’t been the same. My mother has been on edge and it is upsetting to see. She knows she will be losing her mom and the fact that my brother is going away to school just adds to her emotions. My dad bought the sweatshirt and a shot glass as joke. As he was paying I was looking at short sleeve shirts wanting one. My mother told me I am not going here I don’t need one. Today is your brothers day, not yours.
. . .
Two p.m. came and people began gathering by the door getting ready to walk in to the gym. Ohhh Starbucks! I could go for a coffee. Ehh I survived this long I don’t need one. As everyone was walking in they were giving away t-shirts and game cards for students. The game cards were for the students. It was a contest they were invited to attend all the activities on the card and if they do their card would be put into a raffle to win a semester of free books. I took a card.
. . .
Throughout the day I kind of wished it were me. I never experience the moving away at college. I had the choice to live away and I decided not to. Part of me wished it was me and part of me was glad it wasn’t. I honestly don’t think I could do it. Not that it would be hard, but I am so used to my parents and being home that I would really miss it. Its not that I am immature and can’t function on my own, I just don’t think I could do it. The attention wasn’t on me today it was on my brother, and I was a little jealous. The attention from our parents was always split as evenly as it could be. I always wanted the attention on me, and when I didn’t get it I would feel left out. Well today I wasn’t getting the attention.
. . .
The ceremony began with a video from the freshman orientation. Then we heard from some parents and students. The president came to speak to everyone. He talked about the school and welcoming everyone. Then he asked everyone in the audience to stand and put our hands on the student, so my father, my mother and I put our hands on my brother and said a prayer.
(Note to self, find the paper with the prayer)

I remember those tears. Tears falling from her eyes. My mother lost it and started to cry. The past week she has been a wreck because her baby son is going away to college. Seeing my mother crying knowing how sad she was I started to tear up too. My “little brother” is going away to college. After a few moments we hugged my brother and the ceremony was over. We got up and proceeded out of the hall.
. . .
“It’s my turn to use the computer! No my turn! You been on it for an hour already, and I want to check my email! You have no mail. Mom! He won’t let me on the computer, he’s been on it for a long time and I want to go on now. Give him five more minutes, then you can go on.”
. . .

We proceeded over to the dorms one last time to check it out before it was that time of the day. Time to leave without him. Back at the dorm we talked some more with his roommate Matt and Mike and Matt’s parents. Then we said our goodbyes and left to go to the van. We hugged and kissed my brother goodbye as we went to the van.

We got into the van and my mother was going to pull up by the dorms. (She had later moved it back to the lot because she couldn’t keep it parked by the dorms) My brother didn’t need his fridge thanks to his new roommate Matt, and so he was going to bring it back down and put it in the van.

Pulling up to the dorm one last time I felt the emotions flowing. It is hitting me that this is where my brother is going to be for the next semester. My mom pulled up and got out. She told me to stay in the van because I didn’t need to get out. Since It was getting late in the day, we were all becoming cranky, and I didn’t want to sit in the car with my father. I wanted to say goodbye again to my brother. I jump out and ran to catch up with my mom only to be sent back to the van. I get back in the van with a puss on my face.

My brother came over to the van to say goodbye one last time. I remember that hug and kiss on the cheek like it was yesterday. Hugging him saying “I love you and I will miss you Michael. “You too Shannon” then it hit me as I sat in the van watching my mother turn around to leave I startled bawling saying I am going to miss him. And I was going to.

I didn’t think it was going to be as hard as it turned out to be. Sure he is only forty-five minutes away, but its different because I wont be seeing him all the time like I did. Upstairs is going to be lonely and it will just be the middle child in the house. As I am finishing this last sentence, the tears are building up. Hey! I think I hear a familiar voice coming from downstairs…

Blog# 17: Reflection on classmates' comments

After class on monday, I remain with the same idea i had beforehand. Im going to stick with the magnet concept. My classmates gave me some feedback related to my idea. =)

Blog 16: Idea for Draft of Essay 4

So I just finished my draft of essay three. I feel happy and excited. It wasnt easy because it took me a great deal of time before I was finally able to come up with an idea. Now that three is typed, I now have to think about four.

As I closed the refrigerator, I looked at the magnets and pictures that were on the fridge. On the freezer are alot of magnets and photos.On the actual fridge part are magnets and a sticker of where my siblings and I went to college. One of them is a Rider magnet, where my brother is currently attending. Im thinking of maybe taking the magnet as the object and writing an essay of the night before/ day of when he left for college. Magnets attract and sometimes they don't. My brother and I didnt always get along, we had the typical brother and sister relationship. Now although i dont see him often, we have a good relationship. I'm thinking of writing about that. I currently have the story of the night before/ the actual day in mind. Im feeling confident that I have a topic in mind, haha. What do you guys think?

Blog # 15: Places

Hmmm, places. So while reading the directions for this blog, i had to sit and think of places that are important to me. i wrote about specific places that are of memory to me.
St John's Hospital in Queens, New York - Where I was born
Harbor Lights - my first job. I drove by it ever since, and its now a pizza place.
NY and Co- my second job
Kb Toys - my third job
Applebees - my current job
Elementary School, Middle School, Highschool - All important because it is where i went to school.
Highschool football field - where my graduation ceremony took place
Up my street - it is where i fell off my bike and have the scar on my elbow.
Road in Jackson NJ- where i got my first ever ticket.

Keansburg, NJ - where my grandparent's summer house is located

New York- where all of my cousins on my mom's side live.
Behind my elementary school -where i got my first speeding ticket.
Baseball fields- where i would play softball. Played for five or six years.
Eatontown, NJ- where i took my driver's license test
North Brunswick Highschool- where i took my SATS


Im sure there are plenty more places, but these are the ones that came to mind at the time of typing this blog entry. =)

Since I live extremely close to my highschool, I drive past it all the time. Now the back of it is currently under construction because they took down the tennis courts to expand the buildings. The construction cut half of the parking lot, in which leaves limited amount of parking for students. I remeber being a senior and having the privalege to drive to school, now the students have to pick from a bag becuase of the limited amount of spaces. ( i dont know if its entirely true, its what i heard). The football field has been redone and now instead of grass, they put turf down. the soccer fields and baseball fields look the same to me i guess. I really wouldnt know because I didnt play either of those sports.

Blog# 14: Ideas for Essay 3/4

Ok now that one of the two is revised it is time to think about essay 3/4. Essay 3/4 is about objects, people, places, and things. it isnt so much a personal experience. Honestly, i'm lost with what to write about for this essay, and my ideas are all over the place. I basically just threw out objects that came to mind. Once I list them, maybe concepts and other ideas will come to mind. Let's see. Brainstorming doesn't hurt. Some objects I could write about would be concert tickets ( Backstreet Boys and Sean Paul), coffee, make-up, my purses ( cheap ones to the expensive ones), my elementary bomber jacket( still have it still fits...well not the best but still does), my highschool sweatshirt, kean sweatshirt, my baby blanket, my jewelry,old phones, salad, keys,my car, rings, etc.
problem im having is stories behind these objects. some were from when i was little so i wouldnt remebe rmuch.

Blog # 13: Clothing

Impressions are everything. One way of making an impression is through clothing. The clothing we wear can say a lot about someone.
Walking in to the restaurant is an older man. He is neatly dressed in black dress pants, black dress shoes, and red long sleeve button down shirt. He is wearing a black peacoat that is unbuttoned. On the right side of his shirt is some logo. He has short brown hair. He says hello to a few people as he walks towards the back of the restaurant. In his hands are keys, sunglasses, and a water bottle.

Blog# 12: Photograph

Browsing through old photos was fun. I found some good ones and I couldnt' decide which to write about. i decided to pick a cute and funny one. In this photograph is my aunt Chrissie and me as a baby. My aunt was sitting on the floor and I was standing in between her legs. She was holding me as I was looking at the camera. She is wearing blue jeans, a long sleeve white shirt, and a blue shawl with snowflakes. Her dark brown hair is down and she is smiling. There is a bunch of boxes at the right of the picture so it must have been a holiday or my brithday. On the left side is someone with their left leg crossed over on the right. They are not really part of the picture so I am not sure who it is. This picture was taken in my living room. Im standing in yellow footsie pajamas with some circus picture ( I think) on my stomach. I'm looking at the camera, and I have my right arm up with my finger on my ear as if im saying "Whatttttttt???" and can't hear. lol I had to say I really laughed out loud with this one.

Blog # 11: Objects

After looking in my closet, a drawer, my purse, wallet, pockets, backpack, and even boxes with old things, I came across a few things. i found so many things from my childhood i had no idea what to pick to write about. i narrowed them down to two.

When I was younger, probably a baby, I had this blanket. Blanky, my blanket, was a blanket I slept with everynight to keep the monsters away from me. It was white with a hint of blue and yellow. The blanket was my security blanket. I held it in the car as I carried it everywhere with me. It went to the stores, to the doctors, dentist, etc. I asked my mom about it, and she told me once I took it with me to my aunts house in New York and I accidentally left it there. Once I realized I didnt have it I started to freak and balled my eyes out. My aunt had to mail it back the next day. When it was time to be washed I refused bc it had the smell on it that I was familiar with. As mom would wash it over and over it would start to rip because the material was so gentle. I still have my blanket today, despite its condition. My blanket has been tired in several knots to keep it from ripping anymore. Today, it looks like a soft rope.

I found my old wallet i had and in it was my old license, silly cards u press with your thumb and a color appears indicting a answer, and a Babysitters Club card. The club memership was something i joined to get bookmarks, magazines, updates, etc. I choose to blog about the card because I laughed when I saw it. Before I mention the Babysitters Club books, I want to mention another series of books that correlates along with them.
Before I began reading the BabySitters Club books, I started to read the Little Sisters Series because they were better suited for my age. The little sisters series are about Karen, Kristy's little sister and her adventures. I loved these books. Then i became older and started to read the actual Babysitters Club books. Out of curiousity, I searched for the Babysitters Club books on barnes and nobles website and I immediately said "wow". These books started in 1995, and it is now 2008. They even have the same girls but in cartoon characters and their own books. I loved these books because they were fun to read, relatable stories, and they kept my attention. Today,these books are in a cardboard box tucked away in a closet. Also on a shelf is the Babysitters Club movie.

Blog #10 So, which essay?

So this stinks. I have three essays to decide from and I like them all. I feel good about them all and truly wish I could revise each of them. I have to think realistically and choose one for now. The other essays won't go to waste; I just can't work on them now. So after much thought, the essay I choose to revise is either my first or second, haha. Ok as you can see I am having a tough time deciding, but no I will choose. I can't be indecisive. Ok the first essay is the one I will revise because its something that affects me today. All of the essays have something to do with me, but I feel the first essay is a part of me. It is why today I am more confident with myself. My draft has the main story. As of right now, my plan of how I will revise the essay is by discussing another instance, reflection, and then include an example of how I overcame the fear today, reflection, and conclusion. That is my game plan, so let's see what I can come up with.

Blog # 9 Draft of Second Essay

What is courage? What does it mean to be courageous? What is bravery? What does it mean to be brave? Being courageous is knowing what you might do could result in serious consequences, yet you go ahead and do it anyway. Being brave is knowing something bad could happy, yet still doing it anyway. It is all about taking risks, and sometimes we should get up and take that risk, but well if we don’t…. it’s hard to say what would have happen if we did, however we will never know, and the worst thing to do is sit back and to wonder what could have happened if only we tried. Let’s be brave and just go for it, we only live once; unless we are a cat.


“Jump Jump! You can do it! Just Jump. It’s only water”. Why do brains have to speak? If only they would be quite for a second so I could figure out what I’m going to do now. Standing high above the water, above the people, I heard nothing. I knew they were cheering for me, but all I heard was the voice in me saying “go go” I don’t know why I’m up here, so it might be a good idea to backtrack. This is how it all began.


One sunny hot summer afternoon, I was walking anxiously around the house waiting to leave. I had just put on my new bathing suit, dark blue, one of my favorite colors. Since I belonged to a swimming club, I needed my badge. It’s a stupid pointless yellow thing, however I cant find it. Little did I know, misplacing my badge was the least of my worries.


After rummaging through the pile of clean clothes I found my badge. I must have knocked it off my dresser while I was dusting earlier today. Silly me. Now I needed a pair of shorts and a shirt, and then hopefully I’ll be set to go. I slide my fresh pedicure feet into my black flip-flops and went downstairs. I need to pack my beach bag. A towel, sunscreen, goldfish crackers, the latest seventeen magazine, and Poland Spring water bottle. Hey I have to keep up with today’s fashion, and the celebrity gossip in the world.


Since I was feeling anxious and eager to get to the pool, the ten-minute ride felt forever. After mom parked in the parking spot, I opened the door of the van and quickly began walking towards the pool. I wouldn’t even wait for my mother or brother, I just wanted to swim.


I can be impatient at times. This was one of those times. I like to just get up and go only if I know it will work out in the end. If I am unsure of something I will walk slower contemplating whether or not I should go. Being indecisive can really drive me crazy. I go back and forth between ideas, and only I can make the decision. Sometimes I’d want to ask someone else but all they will do is turn around and say hey it’s your thing your decision. Ugh! In this case I had a gut feeling that my decision will turn out positive.


Even though I was so eager to go, I couldn’t get into the pool. I’m not one to just jump right in. I have to go in slowly which ends up taking forever. By the time I get in, I am ready to get out and lay out in the beautiful bright sun to work on my nonexistent tan. After a few minutes, I figure ok I went in, cooled off; I’ll go back in the pool later. So I got out and ran over to get my lime green towel, praying that on the way I don’t fall flat on my face, I mean they don’t hire ugly lifeguards do they? I sat on the lounge chair, and I stretched out my wet legs. I really do need a tan; I mean it is July isn’t it? I reached over to the right side to obtain my beach bag for my new Seventeen magazine and my Poland Spring water. I put the bag back down, and I put on my black Dolce and Gabanna sunglasses as I begin to read my magazine. Two pages in, I take a sip of water, ahhhh, and put the cap back on. I love water because it is so refreshing, especially when it is ice cold. I turn to page four of the magazine and look at the celebrities featured.


Cameras flash as celebrities walk the red carpet looking all fabulous as they flash their smiles, show off their jewelry and wearing top of the line clothing as they strut their well-toned and slim bodies. Days later people like you and me pick up the magazines and look at those pictures, envy them and wish to have the perfect stomach, huge muscles, or big breasts. Some people then stare at themselves in front of the mirror. As they stare they begin to feel self-conscious and wonder what they can change about their body. If I did that I would look better.

Of course I’m laying out to tan, and the cover features an article on the dangers of tanning and the negative effects. What else is new I thought?


We read about dangers of things all the time, but do we always listen? Of course not because we can be stubborn and think well it will not happen to me so why do I have to listen? In two pictures are my brother, my sister, and I. The two pictures were taken the same day and time, however the lighting on my mom’s camera was different than my sisters. Of course I love the one where I’m almost brown. I like having some color on my body, it makes me feel good. I mean doesn’t everyone?


Of course I’m laying out to tan, and the cover features an article on the dangers of tanning and the negative effects. But i love the look.


Back in the pool I’m swimming around enjoying the water. As I’m swimming I shift my green eyes to the right to look at the people jumping off the diving boards. There are two diving boards; one is higher than the other. I always wanted to jump off them because they look like so much fun. I mean I would just jump into the water and be ok right? So I manage to get out of the five feet water and walk over to the twelve-foot area of the pool. This time I’m walking very slow on the gray cement because I’m still not to sure if I want to do it.


Going back to before, I practically ran into the club eager to get into the pool. Now I find myself walking slowly unsure of what I want to do. My mind is freaking out because so much is going through it right now.


To make matters worse, the lower diving board is packed. I stood in line for the higher one. Eventually it was my turn to go. I climbed up the silver metal stirs thinking to myself why am I doing this? I never tried them before why now? I reach the top and boy is this high. Ok this isn’t the time to have a panic attack and scream so what do I do? Stand up here and twiddle my thumbs? Count the people at the pool today? Oh look a bird, hey that cloud looks like a dinosaur. Ok don’t panic just walk and look straight out and jump, hold my nose and go under the water, pop up and get it over with.


Fear of heights is one of the most common fears people have today. Some people do not like multiple floor buildings where they are extremely high up. Some people do not like Ferris wheels or the sky tram that takes you over an entire amusement park. I remember doing both of those with no problem, well with a little fear, but I still did it an enjoyed it. So if im up here am I afraid of heights? But now I’m stuck at the top scared shitless. I made it up here, which is a good start, but now I have to walk to the end of the board and jump into the clear blue water. Ok, mind, you think this is so simple huh, well guess what it’s not. If it was so simple why aren’t my legs moving?


I’m shaking I am scared I don’t want to do this. The stairs look better than the water. According to the pool rules I have to jump. I can’t walk back down the stairs. Great, now what? Its bad enough the attention is on me. I mean come on isn’t there good food at the concession stand today? Chicken fingers? Fries? They are the popular favorites.


So I am still standing up there on the board and shaking. People down below are cheering and rooting for me. They are on my side. The lifeguards are wishing I would just jump. The people in line are becoming more anxious waiting for their turn. I stand there for a few more minutes pondering on what to do. I should just take the risk and jump. It is fun and people jump off the diving boards all the time. They jump and land in the water and continue to splash, swim, and fool around all in good fun. The quicker I jump, the quicker I can splash, swim, and have fun.

Giving up I ignore the rules and turn around and walk down the gray cement steps knowing I should have just jumped. If it was that bad no one would do it. As I reached the last step, I felt the stares. Those who were by the pool know who I am. I am the girl who did not jump of the high diving board. I am the chicken.


Thing back to this moment I learned that I gave up too quickly. I was already on the diving board and so I all I had to do was walk to the tip of the board and jump into the blue water. Instead of jumping I gave up, turned around, and walked back to the stairs and then down the stairs I went. Now as I type this essay, I regret not going because I should have. I mean I must have wanted to since I walked over to the ladder and up the steps to the board. I was already ready to jump, but I froze. It was not about making a decision; it was about going through with it, following through. Unfortunately I did not follow through and I chickened out. There was no point in talking about courage and bravery because I was neither of the two. Instead I should be talking about weak and fear because standing up there I was afraid, and I became weak letting the fear get the best of me.......Splash! In the water I wish I went.....

Blog # : Inbetween blog 8 and 9

So i typed my essay, and then opened up an essay i had started and began typing away. So instead of having one second essay, i now have two. Yes two, you could say i really was into writing this weekend.

Blog #8 In-class blog "Overwhelmed"

Coming up with ideas for an essay is defintiley easier than writing it. Of course that is a no-brainer. Thinking back to our conference, i know what the strengths and weaknesses were of my first essay. Concepts and ideas is what i really have to think about.

Before i read my classmates comments, i looked over my ideas that i posted as possible topics for my second essay. I broke them down and thought about the concepts/ideas that would go along with them.

• Fright Fest- concept of fear
• Diving Board - concept of fear, fear of heights maybe?
• Escalators- fear again....but its not a top candidate for an essay
• My first ticket - thats something you just dont forget. changes ur perspective of when driving on the road
• bro leaving for college - that was a sad day. concept of a time i was sad.
• Two of my favorite games- thats all i can say about them. so it wouldnt be a top candidate either
• The doll house and playhouse -those were things my father built for me. i recall the dollhouse more. I loved the dollhouse. I would be playing with it all the time. The furniture and people were from Playmobile. i dont remeber the last time i had it and why i no longer have it anymore. obvious reason is maybe now im older? it fell apart? thats something i'll have to ask my parents and see.
• the jungle gym- this wassomething my father built for my siblings and i. i remeber it well, but thats all.
• I also remeber playing with barbies, my blanket I would always have by my side, reading the lil sister series and then couple years later reading the baby sitters club books. (I'm just thinking of childhood toys and books i used to play and read.)

Based on the comments from my classmates, the popular topics were the diving board, dollhouse, playhouse, and jungle gym.

Now i know what i would write about if i choose the diving board, however im a lil less unsure of the playhouse, dollhouse, and jungle gym.

The problem that im having is if I was to write about that what would my concept be? I can write about it, but i dont know what the reason would be? I remeber having them and playing with them. Am i making sense? I hope so.

"The light bulb is flicking" because I am starting to get a better sense of what creative nonfiction really is. Its easier to write fiction, because it is just a story, however nonfiction is tougher. It has to have a reason for telling a particular story, and that is the problem that i am having. What about this? What about that? Why? and so on. Hmmmm

Blog # 8: Experience and Reflection for my 2nd essay + ideas

Hey everyone, I hope you all had a nice Monday off =)

So I'm flipping through my journal looking for things that I noted and see whats popping out at me. I have a few things i could write about, but im not sure. I'm going to list some possible topics here and see what i can come up with.

• The time my sister and her friend played a practical joke on me which scared the living hell out of me at Fright Fest. this could be a fun topic to write about. concept of fear of things that arent real like the fright fest workers


• The time I was stuck at the top of a diving board.


• The fear, I use to have, of going down the escalators.


• My first ticket. Now im more cautious while on the road, because its like once you get pulled over you seem to be a "magnet" (concept of paranoia)


• The day my brother left for college.


• The computer game The Sims. Another favorite game I enjoyed was Tomba for playstation.


• Coffee, hey it's on my mind haha.


• The playhouse and doll house my dad built me when I was a little girl. Even though i remeber both i would probably be able to create a story out of the dollhouse one because i remeber it more vividly. P.S. i dont have them anymore....maybe along the lines of a childhood memory? (doll house)I remeber when my father was starting it and i saw the skelton of it in the garage on top of the pool table. he asked me about the colors and i remeber it was pink with a baby blue roof. the back was wide open, so i was able to play with it. i had the exact stop for it it was in the right corner near the stairs. it was three floors, the top being an attic. All the furniture and people were Playmobile and I remeber recieving different furniture set-ups for christmas and/or birthdays. The playhouse was a huge house that was in the backyard. it was light blue and white.
• The jungle gym my father built for me and my siblings that was in our backyard. I remeber being so excited that i was on the swings at 8 in the morning and mom coming outside saying what are you doing on the swings so early? there were 2 swings, a yellow slide, sandbox underneath, climbing rope (whatever its called), two ladders, actual platform to go sit and hang out in, etc.

Overall these were some of the things that i found to be exciting in my journal. As of now im not sure what i would like to write about. Coming up with concepts from these stories is what I would have to do. Im good with the actual storytelling, i just have to focus more on the reflection aspect. Ok im going to stop now because i know i'm going to come up with more ideas and overwhelm myself.

Blog # 7 Reflection of Draft Essay one

I'm glad my draft is completed, and I am proud of what I wrote so far.Even though i know some of it will change im happy to know that I have something. It was easy for me to explain what happened. I feel it might not be entirely creative nonfiction and more of an actual story. I wrote alot of thoughts and dialogue, and so I might need more actual details. I do need to come up with a title. In terms of revising I might reflect on an earlier presentation, and then the one I have, and then talk about a presentation I did not to long ago that was courageous of me to do. It would be like a timeline, but i'm not sure yet. I'm not too sure of what my next topic will be for my second essay just yet. I have some ideas flowing around in my head. Because of that i'm not sure how I am going to do my next essay.

Blog # 6 Draft of Essay 1

So here is my draft of my essay. It comes out to five pages double space. well here it is....


Sitting in the back is a little shy girl who just wants to get away. She doesn’t want to be here. She would rather be alone in her room with her books and stuffed animals. It is where she feels safe and free from worries. Unfortunately, the dream of staying home curled up with a book in the comfort of her room is just a dream. She could not stay home from school; she was forced to go. This little shy girl in the back of the classroom is scared.


Growing up, standing up for myself was hard. I was such a shy person, and therefore I was stuck in my own shell. I wanted desperately to break this shell and get out but I was afraid. Kids would tease me causing me to have low self-esteem. I didn’t understand why, I mean I have two legs, two arms, hands, feet, two eyes, two ears, a nose, and a mouth. Were they jealous of what I had? What did I have? In high school I wasn’t part of the popular crowd. I didn’t have the brand new car, designer bags, or designer clothes. I wore braces and glasses, which didn’t really make me the prettiest girl in school.


It was the first period of the day. The first class of the day always drags on because I am not fully awake. I can’t sit still nor concentrate. It doesn’t help that the class is a math class. Its not PreCalculus or Calculus but HSPA Math. I didn’t pass the Math part of the HSPA test; therefore I had to take this class to help me prepare for the second time I take it. It’s very hard to concentrate when people are constantly walking around the room monitoring the students. After class I got up from my desk, gathered my books and notebooks and headed for my locker. My locker was on the second floor, and being in a crowded school it is not that easy to get there. As I’m in the hallway walking to the end of the corridor I stop and look around. Theres a huge crowd of students everywhere. Some are yelling, laughing, and even screaming. I can’t deal with this crap, I have to get to my locker. I reach the bottom of the stairs and feel my heart beating quickly. I tell myself to relax and just get to my locker and get the books I need for my next class. I finally reach my locker and begin to turn the lock. I spin it once to the right and then around once and then to the left and pull. It didn’t open and the bell is about to ring. My teacher doesn’t tolerate lateness. I try my combination again. I know the numbers but why isn’t it working? I try one last time and I finally opened my locker. I put books on the left side and searched for my blue notebook and textbook. Good I didn’t leave them home. I shut my locker turn the lock and quickly walked to class.


Sitting in my desk in the back of the classroom, I found myself shaking and turning beat red like a tomato. I wish I could just relax but I could never be calm and relaxed. Still can’t today because I am always worried or thinking about something. My English teacher is reviewing the text from the previous class. She is reviewing the vocabulary words. It feels like she is spelling out the vocabulary words including the dash and then spelling out the definition because this seems to be taking forever. I really wish we could move on. The student next to me is busy playing with her phone while the student in front of this student is busy drawing hearts with the words “ I Love Bobby” in bubbly pink letters. In addition, the student in front of me insists on clicking his pen and tapping his foot. Boy I just wish I could take his pen right now and throw it because the constant click click click click click is driving me insane. Ok maybe it isn’t so bad but the reason im so anxious is because we have presentations to present today. Im not one to love them in fact I despise them. Presentations are tough because I don’t like standing up in front of the classroom and having 25 pairs of eyes on me, just watching, praying that I fumble a word here or there, hoping to laugh at me and point the finger with the hahahahaha your presentation stinks. Exaggerating or not I really don’t want to do this!


The classroom door looks great because the stairs are right there. I could just get up, walk out, and run down the stairs, out the door to my car and be free. But then what’s the point? If I get up everyone will see me, which would just make matters worse.


Great just great, I lost focus on my paper. I have to read this paper out loud at the front of the classroom. I really don’t want to present. Man I feel dizzy right now. Why is the room spinning? My palms are starting to become all sweaty and I swear my heart is going to pop out of my chest right about now. I can feel my face burning up and im anxiously moving about in my seat.


The teacher stands up in front of the room and begins to speak.“ Class we are going to begin our presentations today. On the scoring sheet I will rate your papers on a scale and then I will add additional comments after. I will try and give the grades back to you tomorrow or the day after. Lets begin. Any volunteers?”


This is it, like mom always said volunteer and go first and get it over with. I swear I heard two pins drop because no one is making a sound or moving. Do I do it? Or do I wait. Oh what the heck just go, and so I could sit back and watch the others. If I go now I can sit and watch twenty- four other students go. BAM! My hand shoots up. I must get this over with I must go now. If I don’t I feel worse as the presentations go on. Please call on me please call on me. I must go first I have to! Any volunteers? Oh perfect go ahead……


My two legs feel like jello as im walking up to the front of the classroom ready to present. I can’t even tell you how many different thoughts are going through my head right now. I don’t want to mess this up and I also don’t want to be up here forever reading about some topic im not to interested in. It is bad enough the paper is flimsy, and I hope I don’t drop it. Why is that they always say take a deep breath before you talk? It really isn’t easy to do when your heart is beating at fifty miles per hour. I try anyway to ease my nerves so I can just read and go. I know dam well the only person in this room who truly cares is the teacher. The students in the class are day dreaming about other exciting things such as the football game on Friday, lunch, gym, the latest music video from The Backstreet Boys, the new girl’s Mercedes, whose dating who,etc.


I know im nervous but I hope my voice doesn’t give off that perception. I barely make eye contact as im trying to focus on my essay. RING RING RING RING I say to myself,are you kidding me? The classroom phone has to ring now? Oh I wonder whose in trouble now. I pause for a second as the teacher gets up and proceeds to answer the phone. My hands are still shaking. The words on the paper are moving. I can’t go on with this. I just can’t. I want to quit. I want to quit. She informs one of the students that they are being called to the principal’s office, and so they get up and walk out the door. Im so jealous they get to leave I wish I could to, but hey I am almost done and no one has died or gotten hurt yet, I must be doing an ok job. After the teacher sat back down, she adjusted her sweater, picked up her pen and signaled for me to continue. I say five more words and then the principal comes over the loud speaker. "Attention Attention, all faculty, there will be a staff meeting at 2:45 pm today." The phone and loudspeaker are interrupting me and it is bad enough I have to stand up here.


I finally reach the last paragraph. I finish the last sentence and look up and see and hear the applause, and the teacher telling me good job. Thank you for going first. Thank you for going first, thank you for going first, thank you for going first are the words that are stuck in my head. I cannot believe it, I volunteered to go first and I survived. The teacher took notice of that and thanked me for volunteering me to go first. That was the boost of confidence I needed. The recognition of me volunteering to go first. Words cannot explain how I felt as I walked the back of the classroom and sat down. My heart was still beating but this time it was beating because it was over with. I did it. I was acknowledged for going first. I presented. I did it!


The next day, my teacher gave us back the score sheets. At the bottom of the paper, next to the word comments, were the words “That was very good. I appreciate you going first. It took a lot of guts and confidence. Good job!”


Thinking back to this moment, I realized how far I came. I hated getting up in front of the classroom and presenting because I was afraid of rejection. I was afraid that I would be booed and or mess up. I was a shy person afraid to speak. I was afraid to make a sound. I wasn’t popular. I didn’t have the fancy car or the hottest boyfriend. I was into school. My shell was broken. I was a senior sitting in my senior English class about to graduate in a few months. Freedom from highschool. No more cliques. Soon ill be commuting to Kean, college, wow. And I thought high school was a “big people school”. I learned to just volunteer and get it over with. Go first. Stand out. Public speaking? No big deal, can I go now? i am not afraid anymore. I want to present. Now I enjoy being outgoing and talkative. It is more fun and exciting. By being enclosed in a hard shell I missed out, but hey that is why today I am the way I am. I’m sure there are people who would just wish I would stay quiet for a few, but hey thanks to my presentation in English class, senior year of highschool, I have confidence. Confidence is in all of us whether we know it or not. It takes someone to tell us we have it even if it is not directly stated. The days of being a shy little girl are no longer with me, and I wish I could go back and tell that little girl that it is ok one day you will grow up and realize there is no point in being shy for it will get you no where. Hey I do want to become a teacher one day and therefore I will be constantly in the front of the room talking all day. Also not to mention back to school nights, parent teacher conferences, and also faculty meetings. On that note, can I get a cup of coffee and a presentation please?….

Blog # 7 O'Brien

We all know what a war is. It involves two sides fighting for a particular reason. Unfortunatley they do not always end peacefully. In this case the war did not end peacefully. Many lives were lost. Wars are not made up, however how do we know what is true versus untrue? The truth is we don't know. There are parts of a story that are completely unbearable and hard to take in because it just doesnt seem like it really did or could happen. It seems unbelievable yet possibly could be the truth. The parts of a story that come off as being normal are the parts we could believe. Death was mentioned, and often people have a hard time believing a loved one is no longer with them, even when it is true. If they refuse to believe that, how or why are they going to believe something that isn't as dramatic? Yes wars do happen, but what is actually true about them? Where is the source? This is something we simply can't answer. We were not there, we only have to go by what was told. Whose to say what was said isn't true?
Another point is this story is a recount of past events. It is been known that when we retell a story we possibly leave certain things out or change them because it is us telling the story. It is like the game telephone. I say something to you, you pass it on to someone else, and then that person tells another person, and so on. When the story reaches the last person it will come out differently. There are so many questions we can ask and never recieve an actual answer. All we can do is hope, guess, and wonder.

Blog # 6 Ranking the essays....

Didion " On Keeping a Notebook"
1.) overall the concept of this essay was for her to reflect back on the things she wrote on her notebook. based on that id give it a 4. 2.) 5 it is a segmented essay - journalism
3.) 2 it was only one point of view 4.) 1 there was only her perspective and view in her essay
5.) 4 there were many details in this story, which would give readers a clear view of the story.
6.) 5 story was very logical 7.) 5. sentences were free from error

2. The experience of this essay is the character is telling the stories of some notes she had written down in her notebook. she cant seem to figure out why she even wrote them down until after she tells them and realizes that these events happened for a reason but we wont know why until time goes on.

Alexie "Superman and Me"
1.) clear focus - 4 2.) segmented essay, yes so 5 3.) 2. only one view 4.) 1 only one perspective 5.) 3 use of superman and the idea of a paragraph as a fence 6.) 3 it was somewhat logical. 7.) 5 sentences were free from errors

2. The experience of this essay is this little boy learned to read with a Superman comic book. he loved reading and would read everywhere. This was a personal triumph for him because Indian children wre expected to fail in the non- Indian world and this boy refused to fail. he beat the odds and became a writer.

Beard "Out there"
1. ) 4. it was clear 2.) 1- it was a narrative 3.) 1 - was one point of view 4. ) 2 - only one perspective 5.) 3 - it was detailed 6.) 4 - story was logical i was able to follow along
7.) 5- sentences were free from errors

2. The experience of this essay is the author is explaining to the reader that it is important to be driven in life and stick to your own mindset. the idea that the lady was almost ran off the road goes along with the idea of someone was trying to block her thinking and throw her off.

Lott
1.) 5 it was clear as to what the purpose was. 2.) 5 - it was segmented. 3.) we saw Lotts point of view as well as some points of views from other writers 4.) 4- many perspectives5.) 2- wasnt as much vivid detail, i couldnt picture it. 6.) 4- it was logical 7.) 5 - sentences were free from error
2. the experience is to basically understand what creative nonfiction is. this essay by Lott would also recieve a high grade because it definitly was not a narrative and it followed the criteria.
Kincaid " Biography of a Dress"
1.) 1. 4- it was clear to the point i understood what Kincaid was telling readers 2.)
3.) 5 - it was segmented. 4.) 3 - we saw parts of the story through her perspective as well as her perspective.
5.) 4 - it was detailed from the dress and so on 6.) 4 put together well 7.) - 5 sentences free from error

2. The experience of this essay is the author is telling the stor of a pohotgraph taken in a yellow dress when she was two years old. this dress was important because her mother had made it for her. this relfection on the photograph made her realize how important her mother is to her.

Montaigne "That Men Should Not Judge"
1.) 2 2. 1 - it was narrative 3.) 2 4.) 1 5.) 2
6.) 2 7.) 5- sentences free from error
overall i dont feel montaigne would get a good grade based on the criteria for our personal essays. it was hard to truly rank because it really didnt fit the personal essay criteria.

2. The experience of this essay is simply the happiness of life. we have to learn how to act calm in chaos because if we dont the situation becomes worse.

Orwell Shooting an Elephant

1.) 4 - he didnt want to shoot the elephant but people in town did. 2. ) 1 - it was a narrative 3.) 1 - 4.) 3 - 5.) 4 it was detailed 6. 4- it was logical 7. 5- sentences were free from error
2. The experience of this essay is a police man has been called to kill an elephant who has gone out of control. the owner can't even control the elephant. the policeman is torn as to whether or not he should shoot this elephant. however the people in the town are cheering him, urging him to do so. disregarding his own feelings and emotions, the cop shoots and kills the elephant. he went along with everyone else when he really should have used his own judgement.

Schwartz " My Father Always Said"
1.) 5 - i was easily able to find the main idea 2.) 5 - it was definitly a segmented essay 3.) 2 4.) 3 - there was the perspective from her father and mimi as well 5.) 4- there were alot of details 6.) 5- the story was very well put together 7.) 5- sentences were free from error this essay would recieve the highest grade in my opinion

2. The experience of this essay is when Mimi Schwartz learns about her jewidsh heritage and the life her father lived. Based on their trip to the places in Germany, Schwartz realized she has a better life in America and would not change it for the world.

Drummond " Alive"
1.) 5. i was able to tell the main idea of the story right away 2.) 2- this story was more of a narrative 3.) 2 4.) - we only see her perspective 5.) 4 there were plenty of vivid details
6.) 4- story itself was in order 7.) 5- sentences were free from error

2. The experience of this essay is the concept of feeling paranoid thinking you are being followed. the author felt this man she kept running into was a serial killer since recently she learned one had escaped and killed a few women. this triggered the anixiety and paranoia in the author as she tried to escape. since paranoia is all in the mind it is very hard to escape. at the end the author realizes she is vulnerable because she is alive. We constantly think and act according to the feelings and thought we have.

Danticat " Westbury Place"
1.) 5. readers were able to figure out the story right away 2.) 5- yes it was a segmented essay 3.) 3 4.) 3. we see perspectives from the writer as well as her mother's perspective 5.) 5 it was very well described with plenty of detail 6. )4 story was logical 7.) 5- sentences were free from error

2. The experience of this essay is the author is telling the story of the day she was eevacuated from her aprtment because of a fire across the hall. In the apartment room that held the fire, two boys were dead because their mother left them along while she was grocery shopping. as the author tells this story she reflects and realizes that we get so caught up in the fantasy world, such as the soap opera General Hospital, and see how the characters' lives are perfect. their lives are perfect because they are scripted, however our lives arent. all we can do is sit back and say i shouldnt have, but even those three words cant change the past.

Oliver "Decent"

1.) 4- able to find clear focus 2.) 2- more narrative but with some reflection and thoughts 3.) 2 4.) 4- we see views from the woman, old man, and how boys felt 5.) 4- subway ride/scene was described well 6. )4 logical 7.) 5 sentences free from error

2. The experience of this essay is a young woman is riding on the subway train in New Yoprk City. she explains that often on these subways are weird and unique people, however on the subway on this particular day is a white man and three black boys. the white man is starting an argument with these three boys because they are blocking the subway doors and always seem to do so. the man was sick and tired of it and wanted the nonsense to end. the young woman among others kept watching to see what would happen as the argument was continuing. Having enough of it, the young woman gets up and approaches the older man. she tells him to back off because they are respectful boys. respectful wasnt the right word the author realizes as she walks away. instead she calls the boys decent as for they are really decent boys.

Thiel "Crossing the Border"
1.) 3. concept wasnt easy to get at first, had to read it a couple of times 2.) 1 it is a narrative
3. 2. 4.) we see the writers side as well as the spanish guy's view. 5.) 2. there werent as many vivid details 6.) 2. it was logical 7.) 5- sentences were free from errors

2. The experience of this essay is the girl " crossed the border" in terms of the language barriers. she kept saying yes not realizing what the man was saying.

Blog # 5 Danticat and Drummond

Westbury Place by Edwidge Danticat is a story about a young girl who is telling the story of the time she left her apartment in Westbury Court. The girl tells this story for a few reasons. The reason why she left was not the typical reason people move. It all started one day while she was watching the soap opera General Hospital. The World of General Hospital is made- up therefore it seems perfect. However, the character's lives on the show are scripted, and we simply cannot script our own lives. During an episode of the soap opera, a fire had started in an apartment across the hall. In that apartment lived a mother and her two boys. Unfortunately that day the two boys were left alone and the one boy got a hold of matches and decided to fool around with them. He had no idea what he was doing and as a result, he accidentally started a fire in his apartment. Other people in apartments nearby were forced to evacuate.

One reason why this girl told her story is because her mother told her "This is what happens to children who play with matches. Sometimes it is to late to say, "I shouldnt have". Two points from this story are not to play with matches, and the bigger point is that things happen that sometimes we wish they didn't. It is hard because we can't go back in time and change it, but the only thing we can do about it is to sit back, and say "I shouldn't have" like the mother told her daughter. Having some bad happen and not being able to fix it, and saying "I shouldnt have" really bites because saying "I shouldnt have" wont change anything. I shouldnt have said this, I shouldnt have done this, I shouldnt have went this way, I shouldnt have ate this are things we can say as a result of what occured, but we can't change what happened.

The structure of this essay is the character gives us a background with a hint of what happened, and then goes back in time to explain the story. Then the story goes back to the present and readers are told what the character is up to now.

The other reading assignment was Alive by Laurie Lynn Drummond. This story is different from Westbury Place in a few ways. For starters the plot is different as well as the style. In Alive, we meet a female character who is telling the story of a serial killer on the lose. She goes on to finish some errands and notices a creepy man who happens to be everywhere she goes. She thinks maybe its a coincidence, but when she takes a slightly different route from the man, she notices that back on a different road, the driver in the vehicle behind her is the same man. At this point the driver feels very nervous and uncomfortable and just wants to get away.

The points of this story are to always be alert and to not dismiss the "buddy system". It is very important to be aware of your surrounding wherever you are. Also it is better to be with someone that alone in certain situations. For instance when someone is leaving their night class and is parked far away, they should find someone they know to walk with. Two people are better than one.

The structure of this story is not in the way it is structured but it is in the use of the realistic and vivid descriptions and story line. This story creeped me out because it felt so real. The writer of Alive wrote this story in a way that the reader can picture it and feel the same way as the character did in the story.

Blog # 4: Schwartz

Often we hear the infamous lines " I told you so" "Mom is always right" and more, but what about our fathers? Don't they have a say too? Well they do now and according to Schwartz, her "Father always said...."

"My Father Always Said" by Mimi Schwartzis an essay about Schwartz when she was a little girl and what it is like to come from a Jewish family. This essay begins with Schwartz, as a young girl, talking about her father. Readers learn they are a Jewish family who live in Queens, New York. Her father had fled Germany to get away from everyone becuase he could not take it anymore. Her father always had two favorite lines, " In Rindhiem, you didnt do such things, and I dont care about everybody".

The second paragraph talks about Schwartz and the trip back to her father's village to visit the graves. The forest remoinded Schwartz of Hansel and Gretel country, filled with foreboding evergreens that leaned over the narrow winding roads of the Schwarzwald. However the name Schwarzwald meant Black Forest. Her father takes her and her mother to his old house. Together they walked around the town and her father would point out certain places such as the gray building with stone columns in the doorway, the typical friday night hangout. As Schwartz was walking around observing the place she would also learn about her Jewish backfround.

In the third paragraph, Schwartz's father is loosening his tie and wiping the sweat off his forehead. He begins by talking about going to the synagogue by sundown on a Friday, and all day Saturday, and couldn't go home until three stars shone in the evening sky before the Sabbath was over. Schwartz compares this to wanting to go bowling on a Saturday at Foxy's alley. Schwartz questions the synogogue and begins to learn more about them. It looks like she is finally understanding her family history,her father, and why he says the things he says.

As readers begin the fourth paragraph, they come across Schwartz and her family wandering about some other places. This time they stopped at her father's old school. Again readers see Schwartz comparing her school experiences to her fathers.

The fiften paragraph the family is going to the Jewish cemetery. Here Schwartz was able to see the tombstones of some of her relatives. Her father was able to show Schwartz how terrible living in Germany was, hence all the stones. Among those people were some of her relatives. She was unable to picture these people, and the only people she knew were her grandparents especially Omi and Opa. Schwartz left tribute to these stones.

The last paragraph of this essay is the most meaningful to Schwartz. This is where she realizes what her father meant by " In Rindheim, we didnt do such things!" Schwartz realized that she is lucky to be in America.

Throughout the essay Schwartz's father would talk about his life and Schwartz would relate the same experience to her life such as attending the synagogue versus bowling and school.

Also found in this essay throughout is gaps between the sections. The reason for these gaps to to seperate the thoughts and views. Schwartz saw each place, explored them,took them into her mind, relfected on them, and then moved on. She needed time for each place to sink in. As she went on the trip she learned about the life her father had and was lucky to get away from. It wasn't easy for Schwartz because she didnt experience it herself but she was able to compare some instances to her own life. Through her father's eyes she was able to see why he was so happy to get away and be in America. The most important idea Schwartz took from this experience was that she is a lucky girl to be here.

Blog # 3 Montaigne and Orwell

The stories and essays we have read in class are the same but also different. one noticable similarity is that they are all somehow creative nonfiction. The two essays/stories that we had to read was Montaigne's, That Men Should Not Judge of Our Happiness Till After Our Death and Orwell's Shooting an Elephant. These two stories have similarities as well as differences in relation to themselves and to other stories we have read so far. Let's begin with the similarities. All these stories are creative nonfiction one way or another. Shooting an elephant is about a police officer who was called out to go shoot an elephant because the elephant became out of control and the owner could not control it. This story was from the police officer's point of view. he explains the situation and also tells readers how he feels. This story is similar with Kincaid's Biography of a Dress. In Kincaid's story, she is telling the story of a particular photograph taken when she was two years old. Even though there was no photograph in Orwell's story, Orwell was still telling a story of something that happened. Let's talk about differences among these stories. Orwell's was more a story, story where as Kincaids was more of a reflection. Between the two, Kincaid's seems realistic while Orwell's story sounded like a fiction story. I understand that these things happen where animals become out of control and have to be shot to control them, but this story in particular just left me with that feeling. It felt more fiction that nonfiction. There are elements that mark the voice in the more recent works as contemporary. Going back to my notes I looked over the list of the observations on the readings. Alot of these works have the more common elements such as character, plot, setting, and theme and symbols. Another popular element with these works is the concept of what really happened. The authors are writing about events that occured in their life, in a creative way. Some essays feature more elements than others. Overall majority of these works contain the same elements just presented in various ways.

Blog # 2 Kincaid and Lott

Once again we are here thinking about the definition of creative nonfiction. Creative nonfiction is is thinking about events that occured in the past and reflecting on them.

Jamaica Kincaid wrote the story Biography of a Dress. In a nutshell Kincaid is telling readers the story of the particular photograph shown above her story. If you look at the picture you see a very upset little girl. I wanted to know why this little girl looks upset in this picture. There must be a reason. The way Kincaid wrote this is she would explain what happened in the past and then add her views on the event now. For example, on page 209, she begins to explain that the picture was taken when she was two years old and was wearing a yellow dress made of cotton poplin. However back then she didn't know what cotton poplin was until she became older as stated in the line "a fabric with a slightly unsmooth texture first manufactured in the French town of Avignon and brought to England by the Huguenots, but I could not have known that at the time" Kincaid is saying how on earth would a two year old girl know that information? Now that Kincaid is a grown up, forty-three years old, she knows a lot more. Another example that illustrates reflection is on page 209 when Kincaid is explaining the boiled cornmeal. The reason why she ate it so much was because it was cheap and easily available. Then Kincaid adds "but i did not know that at the time." Kincaid is basically explaining the story and then adds little thoughts to explain to the reader that this is what she knows now about the particular event. She is looking back on the story of this yellow dress and reflecting on it. Because we are older and more mature we can look back on our lives, and see why things happened the way they did. We have not seen much reflection of a past event (in this case a photograph) in the other stories we have read.

We come across Bret Lott. He wrote Toward Definition of Creative Nonfiction. Lott begins to explain that creative nonfiction is taking an old piece of literature and illuminating it, bringing it back to life. Kincaid did this with her story. She took the memory of the photograph and brought it back to life by adding in her thoughts about it now. Kincaid took what she already knew, put it together, and thats what makes the difference. Lott also goes on to explain that creative nonfiction is indeed self, which is the creative element of creative nonfiction. Without you, it is simply nonfiction. If the photograph was not Kincaid when she was a child, it wouldn't have been creative nonfiction. It would have just been a story of any two year old girl and her yellow dress. As Lott reaches the end of his essay, he comes down to the last element which is truth. How true are these essays? Reflections? Are they only perceptions? If they are who is to say the writer is telling the truth? The only one who can really know is the writer themself. I is the only one who will know if the story is true. Quotation marks are a way of telling the truth. What we say goes in quotation marks. It is our own.

Lott left me with a lot of elements that lead me towards the definition. I feel the best one is creative writing is our responsbility as human beings to answer for and to our lives. (Lott 276)

What is creative nonfiction?

As i sit in class and think about this question, a few ideas come to mind. For starters creative nonfiction is a piece of a writing that is interesting. It's exciting. When i think of nonfiction i think of an essay. However the word creatives makes it different from a regular essay. By using the word creative it makes the piece of writing more appealing to the reader. Creativity is using your imagination.

I just finished reading the stories "Keeping a Journal" "Superman and Me" "Keeping a Notebook" and "Out There". Overall these stories were very interesting. My favorite one was "Superman and Me" this one in particular really helped me understand what creative nonfiction is. the whole idea of a paragraph was transformed into real life. The narrator used the word paragraph as a fence that held words. Families are paragraphs too. For example a family of four is four paragraphs; mother, father, brother, and sister. I found that cool. Creative nonfiction is like taking a simple thing or concept and putting a spin on it making it interesting and allowing the reader to see it a different yet exciting way. We know what paragraphs are and we see them all the time, but to think of other things outside papers and books as paragraphs is interesting.

English 3017