Freshman Year: A Self Reflection

My freshman year as a creative writing major was quite an interesting one. I understood that I’d probably have a bit more work than my peers, but I didn’t realize how much work that’d actually be. Sometimes I’d be reading three books at a time or writing two stories and an essay at once. It was very difficult and daunting at times; all of that work did nothing but make me a more effective and efficient worked. I learned to use my time more wisely and more productively. I’ve also learned that it’s okay to actually work at home. In terms of actual writing and reading, I’ve learned my strong suits. Fiction works best for me, more specifically, realistic fiction. No matter what the story or the subject matter, I’ve always been drawn towards fiction more than any other genre. Fantasy (with goblins and such) has a tendency to bore me, as well as non-fiction. It’s been nice to figure out what I’m appealed to and what creates my best work. Some of the stuff I wrote in the beginning of the year is very cringe-worthy, but there was some good stuff. My more recent work is some of my best.

The Snow Child: Review

The Snow Child by Eowyn Ivey is a 2011 novel based on a Russian folktale of an old man and woman creating a snow girl and it coming to life. The story is centered on Mabel and Jack, who are both at their lowest after their move to a homestead in Alaska. Mabel was so unhappy she even tried to kill herself. The couple was childless after having a miscarriage years before. They also refused to get to know anyone on any other homesteads, as they wanted to be alone with each other. When money troubles, they gradually have to suck it up and make friends Esther and George and their family. When Mabel and Jack go outside one snowy night, they build a snow girl, giving her a hat and gloves. The next few months is spent by the couple trying to get this girl, who starts to randomly appear in the forest, to actually sit down with them. When they eventually do, it turns their life in a whole new direction. The novel from then on out shows us the troubles and good times Mabel and Jack have with the little girl, watching her grow up, and it's up to you whether or not to believe to she's real.The Snow Child was an amazing story. The detail and description and the magic (even though it was explicitly expressed) made the novel that much more special. I'd definitely recommend reading it.

Issues in Our Society (Part 3): Identity

For the past few years labeling yourself and putting yourself into a select group has been a priority among young people. People think you have to be gay or straight, weird or normal, etc, when in reality there is a whole spectrum of things you can be. You can pick whatever gender you please (not just male or female) and you can pick your sexuality (gay, straight, pan, bi). You don’t even have to label those if you don’t want to. There’s so much pressure to find a group of people who are just like you, and then you guys mimic each other until you part ways after Senior Year. Individuality is the only thing you’re guaranteed in life, don’t give that up.

Issues in Our Society (Part 2): Racism

Although many say it died when slavery was “abolished” racism is still very alive and well. Internalized racism, racism against Asians, Jews, Latino’s/Latina’s, Hispanics, Islamphobia, and anti-blackness are at their height in 2015. “Time Magazine” did a cover on the Baltimore Riots, crossing out 1968 and covering it with 2015, showing us how little everything has changed. People try to cover it up with “Dr. King wouldn’t have wanted this!” or “It was just a joke!”, when peaceful protesting didn’t work for Dr. King and just because it’s a joke doesn’t mean it isn’t offensive. People who are protesting are justified in their anger and pain. They’re people are being shot down and killed just for simply belonging to one group of people. The older generations have left all their problems for us to fix, which is hard to do considering they’ve also implemented their mindsets on us. The only way things are going to change if everyone has an open mind to change.

Issues in Our Society (Part 1): Guns

      Like it's foundation, America has always solved it's problems with violence.With the greater accessibility of guns and weapons this problem has just gotten worse. There are two sides to this though: those who abuse this privilege and those who are genuinely afraid. Those who abuse this are mainly those who will shoot you on sight if you "bad talk" the Stand Your Ground Law. If you have the privilege to genuinely defend yourself, your family, your friends, etc. why do you need to have seven large guns in a display case in your living room. I'm pretty sure if someone knows you have all those, they won't be bothering you anytime soon. On another spectrum, (though no one should have to endure such intense fear) some genuinely need guns for protection,. It's unfair they're lumped in with those who abuse their power. Some even use them rationally, for hunting or shooting at cans, nothing extreme. I believe no one should use or own guns, but given the circumstances, knowing some have it for the right purposes and use them wisely is slightly comforting.

Hint Fiction

Ghost

The soulless body next to me stirred. I’m searching for something I can’t reach.

Hurricane

She is a wanderess. She doesn’t belong to a city, doesn’t belong to a man. She is a brewing storm.

Somewhere

White sheets, bright lights, and crooked smiles. He says, “This is where it begins.”

Where are You Now?
I gave you the key when the door was locked, but now I need you.

White Teeth Teens

The girl walks, ashamed, with her head down through the halls. The others stand by watching, laughing.

Blank

I’m trying not to let it show. I don’t want to let this go. I promised you wouldn’t complete me.

Refraction

I sit on the bed with a heavy sigh.

Just a few more hours

and everything will be packed up.

Cardboard boxes

covered in marker and

thousands of layers of tape

are scattered around the room.

Everything, of course,

is going to her parents house.

It’s been hard for everyone she knew.

The slow drag of each day

knowing you won’t be able

to make weekend plans,

or text her goodnight.

The slow drag of each day

knowing I don’t get to see her

walking towards me

in a snow white dress.

A few weeks ago

she came home to me

and taught me about refraction--

a term for

the bending of light.

She made news,

which was what she wanted in life,

to be noticed,

to have a meaningful death.

Young woman dead--

Crashed car found on the side

of the highway,

driver of other car

appeared to be intoxicated,

he received no life threatening injuries.

It’s kind of funny how life works.

One minute you’re perfectly happy,

the next it’s bent,

your light

trying to find stability.

Six Ways of Looking at Writing

I.
In a bubble,
the only sound that can be heard
is the drag of a pen across paper.

II.
There is a loud sigh
as the bubble pops.
All the ideas pouring out
and leaving.

III.
The click and clack of the keys
drive others crazy.
Word after word
appears on the screen,
a new world,
with its people,
is coming to life.

IV.
Yet again,
reality breaks through.
Noise and all
ripping hands away from
the pen,
the keys.
Words ripped away
from minds.

V.
Then, again,
a drive moves the hands faster.
The words come naturally
and effectively.
That once lost world is coming back,
becoming more prominent and real.

VI.
With a few more clacks,
a few more strokes,
the story is done.

Clean

She breathe deep, thinking of all the nights she would cry,
letting everything get to her.
She was finally able to breathe.
She was finally free.
She was finally clean.
She fell back into her ocean with a small touch.

Remembering all the days she couldn’t touch
the surface. She would cry
for help. Beg for fresh air to come and clean
her lungs. Beg for anyone to help her
break free.
Beg for air to breathe.

When she couldn’t breathe
she’d touch
and press her wrist. The feel of it would free
a portion of her pain, but still she would cry.
There was no around her
to help her get clean.

She didn’t know getting clean
would be this hard. The constant struggle to breathe.
The constant drowning in her
ocean. The constant need for someone to love and touch.
All she could do was cry
and wait for someone, anyone, to free

her. One day, though, she did break free.
She did get clean.
She finally didn’t cry.
She finally could breathe.
She didn’t find someone to touch
but she realized her

worth was much more than that. Her
worth was how free
she could live. Not someone to touch.
Being clean
was about your own terms. Learning when to stop and breathe
and when to stop and cry.

    

She would not be pushed to cry, she would let nothing get to her.

She would breathe and be free.

She was now clean, with only the sky to  touch.

They, Them, Me, and I

They are almost exactly like me. Their pieces are simple and straight to the point. We both follow the rules and don’t go above and beyond, for fear of being shot down. We’re both quiet and timid, always afraid to share and shine. In a way, though, they are more dangerous. They’ve gone through so much criticism and critique they’ve developed a bad trait. The need for acceptance. If something is not on par to the standard of a certain person they will try and work their hardest until it is. In some ways though, they are their own person. They’re not afraid to take some risks. They’re not afraid to throw in a “damn” or a “hell” every now and then. They like being risky sometimes. It makes them feel free for five minutes, it helps them put more words on the paper. They’re me, and I am them. But in ways more than one, I aspire, want, and need to be them.

Paper Towns: Review

Thanks to Isabella, over the Spring Break I was able to read Paper Towns by John Green. Overall the novel is about a boy named Quentin whose had a huge crush on Margot since he was younger. He perceives Margot as some sort of god in a way, he worships every move she makes. One night when she knocks on his window asking for help getting revenge on her ex-boyfriend. The next day we find out Margot is missing. Quentin and his friends go on a wild goose chase to find her when Quentin believes she's leaving him clues. The main reason I wanted to read this was because they're turning it into a movie with one of my favorite actors (Nat Wolff). Overall I thought the book was great. It had the typical "John Green novel personality" to it and it was just overall entertaining.
Rating: ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

View the trailer for the movie (out July 24th) here:

The Knife of Never Letting Go: Review

A couple weeks back I started the novel The Knife of Never Letting Go by Patrick Ness. When I first learned of the plot I thought it was quite interesting. It's about a young boy named Todd who lives in a time on Earth after a horrific war. Because of gas that was let go, everyone can hear everyone's thoughts, they call this "Noise". When Todd discovers a whole in the Noise, nothing is the same. When I first started reading I thought the book was quite well, but the language was quite difficult to deal with. Todd and other children stopped going to school years ago. That being said, Ness chose to showcase this in novel. There was misspelled and misunderstandings of words that come natural and easy to us. At first I thought that it was an excellent decision to do this but after a while it just got repetitive and quite annoying. The novel, overall, was good , though.
Rating: ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ 

Arms

Arms are made for holding.

They make people comfortable.

They squeeze the pain out of you.

But what happens when the one

Your arms were accustomed to leaves?

Arms were made for reaching.

They were made for reaching for you.

They were made for making sure you never left.

They obviously didn’t do a very good job.

Arms were made for welcoming.

They were made for welcoming you back.

They were made for making sure you have a home

With me.

No matter what happens.

Arms were made for forgiving.

False Memory: Review

A few days ago I finished reading the book False Memory by Dan Krokos. The novel is about a girl named Miranda North who randomly wakes up on a park bench with no memory of anything but her name and age. Through a series of unfortunate events she hurts a mall full of people with just her mind. She is quickly scooped up by a boy named Peter who claims to have known her all her life. Later at what she has to trust is her home, she learns she is part of an elite group of people called Roses. Roses are basically machines who have advanced control of their mind. Miranda later meets Noah, a boy she can’t remember loving. Noah is also the reason she can’t remember anything. There’s also Olive who’s secret could tear apart the three. On a whirlwind journey Miranda, Peter, Noah, and Olive try to limit the casualties of a massive attack their creators are planning on the city and try to figure out the Roses true purpose.

The whole book, I thought, was fantastic. The action sequences and the way the author so cleanly and easily slipped in Miranda’s resurfacing memories were amazing. Miranda’s development over the book was my favorite part. At the beginning of the book she was this shy being who felt like she couldn’t trust anyone. As you read further you watch her become the person you imagine she was before she lost her memory; strong, independent, and fierce. I can not wait to read the next installment in Miranda’s journey.
Rating: ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Tell Me

So that you will hear me

my words will become honest.

They will be like the words

you hear in  your most vulnerable states.

Tell me your secrets

and I’ll tell you mine.

Tell me all your hopes and dreams,

so I can see myself in them too.

When you get tired,

don’t just run away.

If you slip away,

you’ll start a fire

that can never be put out.

Tell me you need me,

and I’ll say I need you too.

Tell me clearly,

speak what your heart

is telling you.

I’ll tell you I’m lucky,

I’ll always tell you the truth.

Don’t be just everything I want,

be everything I need.

When I say I love you,

tell me you love me too.

So that you will hear me

I’ll show you my heart

beating as hard as a drum.

My words will become yours.

Yesterday

Because yesterday

everything was different,

(the sun shone darker,

the wind blew cooler,

the rain came down harder) --

and because this morning I woke up

and I immediately knew there had been a shift,

(my bed was empty, cold;

white sheets perfectly spread

and untouched like fresh snow) --

and because in the kitchen

piles of dishes were covered

in last night’s makeshift meal,

(flies buzzing around looking for an extra scrap) --

and because when I walk into my living room

piles of boxes were stacked to the ceiling,

full of every memory from

yesterday and beyond --

and because there was no one around,

and I was alone from now on;

I realized no one would be here to guide my every step;

I was an adult now in the real world--

I had grown up.

Where Does Writing Hide?

Writing hides behind quick movements.

When you’re suddenly hit

with a good idea

and you can’t wait to get to

the nearest pen and paper.

Writing hides behind your past.

Whether or not you’re able to let go

or learn from what you've done wrong

or what you've done right.

Writing hides behind the people

you surround yourself with.

The stories they share about themselves

fuel the characters in your stories.

They help add character development.

Writing hides behind your ghosts.

That pang in your stomach

when you walk away from something

that was practically calling your name.

You give your characters those experiences.

You make them fearless.

You make them guiltless.

Writing hides behind you.

Whether you trust yourself enough

to let the words flow openly and honestly.

Whether you just need an escape

so you create something a million miles from the truth.

Writing hides behind your willingness.

Whether you’re willing to commit

and escape.

Thief of Always Exercise: Chapters 14-26

1. Start a story with the sentence: “He knocked on the door…” continue the story.

     He knocked on the door softly. He immediately removed his hand, rubbing his hands over his jeans, wiping away the sweat. After a minute or two, the door was still closed. He reached his hand up again, knocking on the door. After another minute, no one came to the door. He sighed, giving up. He turned on his heels and started heading on his way. Maybe he’d go to the neighbors and ask where they were
     “Excuse me?” A soft voice came from behind me. And there she was in all her glory. Her dark blond hair in a messy bun, her blue jeans, plaid flannel, and white tank top all covered in dust and paint. “Sorry it took so long to come out, I was just working. Did you need something?” Her blue eyes sparkled as she spoke to me. She was as beautiful as I remembered her to be.

     “Maggie?”

     “Don’t know how you know my name but I really need to get back to work. If you need something make it quick please.” She didn't remember me.

      “I-um-I just needed to use the bathroom.” I lied.

      “Oh, well, sure.” She said motioning me into her house. “Mind if I ask your name?”

      “Adam.”

      “Well nice to meet you Adam. Mind if I ask how you know my name?”

      “I-uh-asked a neighbor.” She gave me a quizzing look, nodded, and continued to show me where the bathroom.

       Once I was in, I locked the door quickly behind me. I took several deep breaths trying to calm myself. I was in Maggie’s house. Her new house at that. While walking through the halls I didn't see any signs of a boyfriend or significant other. The only thing I saw were empty boxes and boxes waiting to be unpacked.

      She didn't remember me.

      But I sure remember her. Especially those eyes. It seemed they’d gotten brighter than the light time I saw them.

      “Adam, you okay in there?” She asked knocking on the door.

      “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. I’ll be out in a second.” I took a moment to collect myself, washing my hands, splashing some water on my face. I put on my straightest face, unlocking and opening the door to once again face her. 

Thief of Always Exercise: Chapters 8-13

14.Describe a time you witnessed or participated in the death of a living being.

      Back in 2012 the first pet I ever owned passed away. I only remember him as the large cat he was, I never got to see him as a kitten. He was one of the most lovable pet my family owned. When he was still health he was the cutest. He had big green eyes and a stomach that hanged to the floor. But as he got older, he started getting thinner and weaker. Soon that belly that hung to the floor was barely visible. His bones would show and he could barely walk and eat. By November we would have to keep him in my mom and dad's room because all the other animals would try and play with him. By then we were bringing him his food and water and taking him to the liter box. Then, at the end of November, he passed away. It was one of the most surreal things I feel like I'd ever gone through. Here was the creature, that I'd taken care of and cherished my whole life, who I had to watched get sicker and sicker as the days went on. To make matters worse, I couldn't do anything about it. I think the most important lesson I learned from that is, sometimes stuff just happens in life. Bad things are going to happen in life and we can't do anything about it. We just need to find a way to get along. 

Thief of Always Exercise: Chapters 4-7

5. Write about a time you played a practical joke on someone or when someone played a practical joke on you.

      I don't really know if this counts as a practical joke, but as everyone knows lots of my friends like to call me 'Tampon' as a joke. It started in eighth grade when my friend Sophia started calling me Tam Tam. As days and days and days went on she eventually bumped it up to Tampon. That's when she told all everyone. To even things out we gave everyone I was close to an equally gross name, but I'm pretty sure none of theirs will surpass mine. It gets quite weird because they never call me by Tamaron anymore, with the exception of Bella and Karina. It's gotten to a point where it's weird hearing my own name, even at home. So in hopes that those people are reading this, (Serita), could you tone it down a bit maybe? You're at like a seven, maybe bring it down to like a two.

Thief of Always Exercise: Chapters 1-3

1. Pick a month and personify it.

April

      With it's pouring rain and sunshine, April is truly the month between the coldest and scorching days. It's the month where all the gears are shifting. March was a warm up. It gives April some hints as to what to add to the beautiful new season. March even tried to implement some of these things them self, but it's April who really locks everything down. April brings the sun. They let everyone know beautiful, warm days are coming. April brings the rain. There's never a pleasure in life without a little suffering. April brings the rest of the spring casualties. They let some of the slack off May. Then, after April's time has come and gone, May truly emphasizes the beautiful season.

Hello :) It's weird to think that anyone, anywhere could be reading this.

I am currently a ninth-grade Creative Writing Major at School of the Arts.   Generally, everything here will basically be about what we're doing in class.

I would say, as a reader, I'm a fantasist and a realist. I enjoy reading things that could happen in my life or that are happening in the world around me. On the opposite side, I love reading things that I know exist just in the pages of that book. Dystopian  novels, (The Hunger Games Trilogy, Divergent Series, The Maze Runner, etc.) are my absolute favorites.They're just really fascinating to me. Knowing we as humans could get to a point where our society is so bad that we could eventually reach that point stumps me.
A couple weeks ago, we started The Age of Miracles by Karen Thompson Walker. I'm currently on chapter 23, and so far I can say I love this book. It definitely goes down as one of my favorite novels I've ever read. The story is about a young girl named Julia whose life turns upside when she learns the Earth is turning slower and slower each day. She goes through family, friend, and personal struggles which are shaping her into a more independent person. When I first started reading, I was unsure of how I would feel about it. I thought it would be a stereotypical little girl learning new things and coming into her own. Now, though, I know it's much deeper than that. Sure, it does have those stereotypical elements of a little girl just finding herself, it goes deeper, it actually shows her struggles, It let's us know exactly how she's feeling.

This is very much so a drastic turn from the novel, but I'd like to talk about the public education system. The idea of students going to school for free is a great thing, but to say students who complain about the actual system itself are ungrateful completely dismisses everything they go through for them to say these things. Some adults don't realize this, but school is stressful, especially in a system where passing tests is valued more than actually learning anything. Students are expected to drill this information into their head and do well on the test. If you don't do good on the test you "obviously" didn't study or pay attention to any of the lessons. Which isn't true in some cases. Some people, like me, no matter how hard they study are just bad at taking tests. In summation, the way we put so much stress on tests is not an necessarily an accurate to measure students knowledge. I mean, why are we even measuring how well they can memorize things from a text book?