Blog 16

Whats the most important thing that you learned about writing in this course?

I learned a great deal about structure! I feel that that is so important. Before this class I had no idea about segments, focus, reflection...ect.

What did I learn about writing one of my papers?

In my personal essay I learned a lot in my consult with Prof. Chandler. I think that really helped me the most to understand what I was lacking in the piece. I don't feel that my peers gave me much feedback or direction. I like to know what people think honestly and what I can change to make it better for the reader. It's hard to analyse your own work because you are to personally involved in it.

Which paper was the hardest to write?

Ha ha... The Nature essay. and since I am still having trouble with it, it is not a surprise that I would have choose it as the one I didn't like. I am in life, not in nature...at least that's how I feel, but I am sure the truth is that I am in Nature more than I think. I'm living on this earth, life(nature wise) is everywhere but I can't seem to relate it to anything. It gives me a headache to think about a correlation or metaphor.

What do I want to say in my reflective essay?

I want to show the process that I took to write prob my personal essay, if not my journalistic piece, we'll see, but I feel that I still have so much more work to do on my pieces that I don't know if I can show this to the correct advantage.

What don't I want to write about?

Nature essay
memoir because I feel that these don't have enough to say... i didn't work on them as much.

Lit Journalism Piece

This is just what I have so far... there is def more to come very soon. I thought it would be interesting to write about something that was on my "things I would never write about" list...look at me taking chances. :)


I’m sitting in between all these crazy people. I just don’t get them at all. They stare and scream as if it is the end of the world. I think to myself, “So your teams not winning, who cares, and seriously, it’s not the end of the world!” I wouldn’t dare say that out loud here, in their territory, or they might come after me with pitch forks and blazing torches. I am afraid of these stat talking, jersey wearing, beer drinking, intense football fans. I sit quietly, hands folded, uncomfortably smiling as if I know what’s going on.

"I swear all you guys ever talk about are sports, don't you ever get tired of it?" I know I do! But that was a dumb question and so the following one probably was also, "Why is it that you like this so much?"
One of the guys answered, "If you think that this is bad then you need to wait until baseball season, this is nothing, you haven't seen obsessed."
If this wasn't obsession then I couldn't tell Adam from Eve. These were my friends and they were all sports fans, if I would have found out during the screening process I'm sure I wouldn't have let them through but somehow we ended up here, at a sports bar. (Macho, macho, macho men, I want to beeeeeeee a macho man) watching the game.
Guy #2 looked at me and shook his head slightly, "Your just not a fan so you'll never understand."
"Ok, so why don't you tell me?" Personally I don't think that I could ever enjoy watching football, I'm just not interested in what team won, who did this, who made that play...blah blah blah...he was probably right I would never get it, "So don't you feel like it takes up entirely too much time out of your life always needing to watch and keep track?" I continued, "Is the reason you like it because football is a type of security blanket, they are a constant in your life, like they will always be there no matter what, every Sunday and Monday?" I just needed some psychological reason why, why, why?
Everyone starts yelling, "Yeah!!!" People are cheering, clapping, giving each other high fives, low fives, wedgies, wet willies, all while wetting their pants with excitement. At this point Guy #2 stopped listening to what I was saying...

Blog 15

how did I start?
I started by brainstorming, forming an outline about the specific scenes that I would write about and also the order.

when did I figure out my focus?
I knew my focus from the beginning because I knew the scene that I was going to place and the end would tie the story together and create a sense of peace at the end.

what did I leave out? what did I change? what did I emphasize?
In my first draft I left out scenes such as the funeral and the day that I received the call telling me what had happened. Also some descriptions about Crystal that were important to the story. I received this advice from the prof and after I made these revisions the whole piece came together. It is much stronger that the original draft. I didn't think that those scenes were important in my initial brainstorming but now I see that they are essential to the essay. I still have much work that needs to be done in order to get it to where I would like it but step by step and it will eventually get there.

where did I get stuck and how did I get unstuck?
I was stuck in thinking that the essay had to be a shock to the reader but then I realized that it doesn't have to be that way for the reader to enjoy the piece.

what were my major revisions?
The segments were my major revision but there will be more changes to come in order for it to be 100% ready for me to send it out the publishers.

how did my life (not on the page) affect my writing process?
It is hard to find the right words to express how you feel because when it is actually happening the emotions are so raw and real. When you are writing from memory it is different. It is not as clear and intense, the feelings have settled a bit and you have had time to process the information, to think about it, and think about it some more and then re think about it.

where and when did I write my best? what time?
I right the best when I am in the moment. When the emotions are so painful and so strong that the only remedy is to write about what I am feeling. I actually have several journal entries about my essay topic that I was thinking about using but I didn't know if they would fit it.

how did I use thinking, talking and writing to develop my paper?
I asked my sister to read my paper and she gave me some good advise and also prof.

how did I know when I was finished and how did I decide where to start?
I started with the end (of a life) and ended with the beginning (of a new understanding).

Blog 14

Ordered List of what I did to develop my writing for one of my assignments

Personal Essay
1. Brainstormed: made a list of possible topics (things we wanted to write about and things we would never write about)
2. Decided on a topic that was personal but that I needed to explore
3. I made a list of relevant events that might be included in my story
4. I narrowed my list to 3 specific events that I could tie together but still keep the story in a segmented format.
5. I decided on an order for my segments that would be successful to the overall meaning of the essay
6. I began to write about these events.
7. I re-read and revised before posting.
8. I met with Prof Chandler and she gave me insight on what I could fix to make the piece stronger.
9. I added more segments about different events that took place and changed the order of the segments.
10. I proof read and posted final copy.
11. The end.

Blog 12

I found a couple of good sites to submit my personal essay. The most interesting is Literal Latte online mag. It meets all the right criteria.

I also came across this website... it seems perfect for my personal essay submission, maybe more so than the one above. :) I'm not sure which one I will choose yet but I could also submit to both. Also this could be perfect for some of my classmates... it would fit perfectly for a couple of the essays that I have read of theirs. You guys should def check it out.
--------------------> http://www.slowtrains.com/slowtrainssub.html

blog 13

RHETORICAL ANALYSIS OF PUBLICATION VENUES

1. Analysis of the editorial description of essays accepted

• See http://www.literal-latte.com/submit_new.html Unpublished Stories or Personal Essays, up to 6,000 words, short plays or poems, up to 4,000 words, Art from cover art to literary cartoons. Photograph, Paintings, Drawing in Black & White or Color (Slides or Copies, not originals) -- Styles range from classical to experimental.
  
• Reading dates: 365 days a year

2. Description of several representative essays published in your venue;

• Sample essays: Julie Marie Wade - "Meditation 26" Bruce Holland Rogers "The Perfect Story"
  
• Authors they like: Ray Bradbury, Michael Brodsky, Robert Olen Butler, Stephen Dixon, Michael Dorris, Harlan Ellison, Allen Ginsberg, Daniel Harris, Phillip Lopate, Carole Maso, Nancy Milford, Carol Muske, Lynne Sharon Schwartz, Gloria Steinem, Frank Stella, Jerry Uelsmann, JOhn Updike, & Exciting new talents...
• Subject matter: Essays on personal experiences and fiction.varied subject material -not really limited by subject except, the personal essays I read were reflective and dealt with refelective life issues such as death and change.
• Voice: Reflective on personal life expieriences that are relatable to everyone.
• Depth of discussion: I only read a personal essay and a short story, not the stories labled fiction, they were fairly long and had alot of discription of the events and places they took place. Also lots of dialoge.
• Form (modes of writing/experimental) description, narration, dialog, uses imagry and reflection of childhood expierience/significant events to get overall point across.
• Artistry: High—It publishes many poems, cartoons, painting, photographs, drawingsLength: up to 6000 words for personal essays

3. Niche

• Audience - unresolved explainations, reflective, one central idea that is not resolved but examined through expierences.
• Purpose - To try and understand the human mind and life, through reflection.
  

4. Other

• No electronic submissions
• Replies within 5 months
• Publishes within a year of submission
• No mention of pay
• Include biography
• Send with self addressed stamped envelope
  

Blog 11 - Final Draft Personal Essay

That Night

There I was walking towards the crème colored double doors. I passed two unfamiliar faces; I did not smile at them or frown, my face remained emotionless. I opened the door and slowly walked in, looking around for a friend. I saw Diana standing with a couple of other acquaintances, some of whom I knew, Carmella and Crystal, and others that I only know by their faces. They hugged me hard. I could not hold back the tears as I watched their tears run down their faces. “Are you going to go up there? Cause I can’t do it.” Diana asked. I looked around, blurry eyed, there was five picture collages on large poster boards. Group pictures with smiling and happy people filled the posters from corner to corner. I looked back at Diana, “I don’t know if I can either.” She extended her hand towards me and handed me a picture, it was of her and Rye. He had his arm around her and they were smiling at the camera. He looked young and innocent, before the hardships of the world had tainted him. “Can you please put this in for me, pleasseee, I want him to remember us, I can’t, I just can’t go up there,” she could not control her tears as she asked me for a favor I was not prepared to do. I looked at Crystal she was taking things especially hard. Her and Rye dated for a several years and had a close bond. The next couple of times that I saw Crystal out I could tell that she was high on something. This was her way of surviving. I took the picture from Diana and walked robotically to the front. I knew this was my chance to talk to him and tell him I was sorry. Sorry, for not realizing something was wrong, sorry for brushing him off and sorry for wanting to yell at him for leaving people that care about him behind. I stood in line, awaiting my turn. I reached his parents and siblings; I gave them all hugs and said I was sorry for their loss. There is never anything “right” to say at these disheartening moments in time. I walked up to the casket and knelt down. My hand gradually moved across my body to make the sign of the cross: up, down, left, right. Hastily I placed the picture next to his lifeless leg. I could see that there were other pictures placed inside. I closed my eyes for a second and could not think or speak. I got up and walked away unsettled.

Diana and I went to our bar on Friday night. I just got out of work and needed to have a drink, the stress of serving people all night can lead me to drink. We sat in our usual spot, right next to the brass taps, about ten steps from the door. I got a Bacardi and coke, with a lime, of course, and Diana got a draft beer. We always have a good time when we go to this bar. This particular night we ran into a couple of people we knew and had not seen in awhile. There is nothing better than catching up with old friends. Rye was there. I had not seen him in months. His parents always come into my job and I wait on them, they are such great people, sometimes it is hard when I have to face them. Rye was wearing a black and white bandana, a white tank and jeans. As soon as he saw Diana and I he came right over to say hello and gave us each a kiss on the cheek and told us how great it was to see us. We did the same.
Diana is a social butterfly and had to make her rounds talking to everyone she knew. As I sipped on my drink, Rye kept me company.
“So what have you been up too?” The typical way people who have not seen each other in a while start a conversation.
“Well I’m still working at Friday’s and going to school.”
That was my automatic response every time I was asked that question. I asked him the same question and he told me he was doing some landscaping work for now but was going to go to school really soon. I thought that was great because ever since I have known Rye he did not have much direction in his life. I could tell he felt ashamed that his life was not in order because when he mentioned he did not have a car, he looked away as if he said something wrong.
“Thanks for that response on MySpace.”
I did not think that he was going to bring that up. I was hoping he was not going to bring that up, but he did. In his message, he confessed that he had a huge crush on me and he wanted to take me out.
I did not know what to say, “Umm… well, I was trying to be polite, I’m sorry, you know Dave and I just broke up and I don’t think I’m ready or looking to date anyone right now.”
I liked Rye, but just as a friend. I did not want to hurt his feeling or make anything awkward that night.
“Daph, if I take you out, I promise you will have a good time. Do you think I’m not good enough for you or something, that the impression that I get?”
“I know we would have a good time, that’s not it, I just went through a breakup and I just want to be single and not have to deal with men for a while.”
Then I went on my usual tangent about how men are horrible human beings, all they do is cheat and all they want is sex.
Then he said the sweetest thing to me, “You just haven’t met the right guy yet who will treat you that way that you deserve.”
I just looked at him and smiled. Diana came back; she and Rye were talking about her birthday plans next month. She told him he had to celebrate it with her or she would be mad at him. He said how happy he was to see us that night and that he would definitely go out for her birthday.
Rye went back to his friends and Diana and I just sat down at the bar and had our usual girl talk. I did not tell her about my conversation with Rye. I did not want to talk about it while he was still around just in case he overheard. I decided I would tell her later that night but I never got the chance and then I never wanted to.

I took a puff of my cigarette and let it out. It felt so good. It was a busy night at work and this 5-minute cigarette break was all I needed.
Rye walked up and lit a cigarette, “You don’t mind if I join you?”
“Of course not, I enjoy the company, so what’s up? How’s work been going for you tonight?” I tend to ask a couple of questions in a row without waiting for an answer.
“Good. Why is it that girls always smoke cigarettes standing in the same position? My sister does the same thing.”
I was standing with the cigarette in my right hand while my left hand cradled my right elbow. “I don’t know I guess it’s just the cool thing to do, maybe you should stand like that too!”
We both chuckled. We were always joking around. Laughing. He liked to laugh at almost anything that I said. I would say, “You don’t have to be nice I know I’m not as funny as you make me out to be.”

My phone rang earlier than usual on a Saturday morning. I didn’t think anything of it until I picked it up to her undistinguishable sounds.
“Diana I can’t make out what your saying. What’s going on, what happened?” “It’s Rye. He’s dead”
“What? What are you talking about? We were with him last night, what happened?”
“He’s gone, he committed suicide last night, after he got home from the bar.”
“Are you sure because he looked fine last night. He even said he was coming out for your birthday and he was going back to school. Are you sure?”
“I know. He seemed so exciting to see us. It’s true though. It was confirmed by an officer that was at his house today.”
We were both crying and wondering how this could have happened. We just saw him! It felt unreal. We went over last nights events in microscopic detail looking for clues to suggest that this was going to happen. There was nothing. In the back of my mind, I kept thinking about the conversation that Rye and I had. To think, while I was lying in my warm bed that night dreaming and thinking about my life, he was putting an end to his.

The barbeque was seven months after that night, the night Rye passed away. Since then I kept replaying mine and Rye’s conversation; I couldn’t get it out of my head. I still had not told a sole about it because I felt guilty. As the sun started to set, more people began to arrive. Groups formed and conversations filled the air. Crystal came up to me and said, “I haven’t seen you or Diana since Rye’s funeral.” She did not remember seeing me numerous times since then and I decided it was better not to mention it. “I had a really hard time dealing with Rye’s death. He called me a couple of times that night. I didn’t pick up. He left messages and I deleted them without listening to them. If I knew what was going to happen I would have picked up. I have no idea what those messages said. Then after all that I don’t know if you’ve heard or not but I got involved with drugs and went to a institution for a while to clear my mind. I was in real bad shape but I am doing a lot better now.” I just listened I didn’t know what to say. She continued, “Yea, I don’t mind talking about it now. It actually helps me to talk to people and I’m ok with everything. I had a dream a couple of weeks ago about Rye. He came to me and told me that I can’t keep beating myself up about what happened. He said I have to let it go and live my life. It was the weirdest thing because when I woke up I could still feel him. I believe it was really him, he came to me, and I’m trying listen to him. I feel a lot better these days.” While she was telling me about her dream, I felt a shiver run through me. I believed it too. He would have wanted us to be happy, the way he never could.