What makes me...
Happy.
1. Being home
2. Being right
3. The sound of my wife’s laughter
4. When my kittens fall asleep on my lap.
5. Having a full fridge and cupboard.
6. Working out
7. Sleeping in
8. Cooking
9. Video games
10. Volunteering
Want to Cry.
1. Not being able to articulate what I feel in words.
2. Trying as hard as I can and still not succeeding.
3. Not being sure that there is something more to existence.
4. Friends that I no longer talk too.
5. Wondering if my writing is any good or just trite.
6. Wish you were here by Pink Floyd (inspired by Alexandra K)
7. Not getting the most out of the day (usually from sleeping to late).
Afraid
1. Failure- Not being able to make a life for my family is the type of failure I am talking about. It can involve money but does just include that. I also mean failure to realize potential.
2. Death-self explanatory
3. Loneliness
4. Leaving those I love alone.
5. My cancer returning…
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Sunday, September 14, 2008
I Don’t Know Why I Remember
I was thirteen and had been paddling for more then five days. I was tired and hot and wanted fresh food. All of us were hungry and tired. We had just walked the longest portage in the boundary waters, known as the Grand Portage into Grand Marete. We were sitting in the pizzas parlor called Sven and Ollie’s and we were dirty, sticky young men who needed a bath, but wanted something to eat more then anything.
Finally!!! The pizza, well 15 pizzas arrived and we dove into the food like we hadn’t eaten in weeks. I can still remember the taste of the pepperoni all these years later, hot and spicy on my tongue. It was best piece of pizza I have ever had.
Finally!!! The pizza, well 15 pizzas arrived and we dove into the food like we hadn’t eaten in weeks. I can still remember the taste of the pepperoni all these years later, hot and spicy on my tongue. It was best piece of pizza I have ever had.
Journal III: James and the Snipe
James was so excited to be going to camp for the summer! This was his first time away from home for any time longer then a night and now he was going to spend two weeks away at a place he had only heard about Camp Nerrew! According to the brochure they had hiking, archery, horseback riding and camping trips!
A young man of ten, he was tall for his age, wearing rimless glasses with shaggy long brown hair. He smiled often and was often in his own fantasy world. One of the things he was most excited about was the camping trip to the boundary waters.
When the campers first arrived they were quickly put into groups by age and then divided into cabins. James was with ten other boys his age and two counselors Peter and Tom. James was an intermediate, meaning that he was older then the youngest campers, known as the cubs (or cubbies if you were making fun of them) and the oldest campers, known as seniors. This was done on a green lawn, near a wood chipped path, overlooking a lake.
James unpacked his belongings and got onto the daily groove of things. Up at revelry, breakfast, service activity, morning activity, lunch, rest hour, afternoon activity, dinner, evening games, and bed time; day in and out it was the same thing over and over when suddenly the end of the first week came and it was time to pack for the camping trip.
The trip was three days and two nights long and there were all sorts of things to learn. James was not new to camping but this was different. Everyday the group would seek a new campsite and camp in a different place. One of the older kids told James about Snipe hunting while on a camping trip. James didn’t know what a Snipe was and so he asked his counselors, who seemed to think that a snipe hunt would be a fine idea. They explained that a Snipe is a flightless bird that only comes out at night and is so stupid it will flee towards a person holding a sack, thinking that the sack was the opening to its burrow. For some reason they told the cabin this information with large grins on there faces.
The first night out the group camped on a small island, with a large rock face looked out onto a lake. The island was covered with fur trees and pines and smelled of caramel. After pitching there tents and cooking dinner the group sat down and starting talking about the plans for tomorrow, showing the boys the map when James asked about going for a Snipe hunt. The counselors agreed, after a quick conversation. They told the group that for a snipe hunt you must not wear any bug repellent, or shirt, and that you need to go hunting only after midnight, without falling asleep. They offered the sack to James, teaching him the call of the Snipe coooowwwaaaacchhhhheehheeeee, and wished him luck in the snipe hunt.
Shortly after this most of the campers fell asleep from a hard day of paddling but not James, he fought the fatigue and when his watched beeped midnight he sprang up from his sleeping bag determined to catch a snipe! Stripping off his shirt he strode (well stumbled) into the woods, slapping bugs as he went. After a few moments he let out his first call coooowwwaaaacchhhhheehheeeee and there was no response, nothing happened, after another few moments he let out another call coooowwwa – aaacchhhhheehheeeee and still no response. This went on for an hour, then two, finally James was feeling discouraged give one last call coooowwwa-
Aaacchhhhheehheeeee before going home. Suddenly there was a flutter near him and he heard a call that sent shivers down his spine, coooowwwaaaacchhhhheehheeeee. Raising his sack he called again, and the call was returned when suddenly he felt a great impacted as something flew into his sack and started pecking at him. Frightened, James opened the sack and turned on his flash light, only to see a bird about the size of a hen, with no wings running away from him.
When James told his counselors about the snipe he had captured they became serious and took him aside. They told James that there is no such thing a snipe and that it was all a game…
James knew better….
A young man of ten, he was tall for his age, wearing rimless glasses with shaggy long brown hair. He smiled often and was often in his own fantasy world. One of the things he was most excited about was the camping trip to the boundary waters.
When the campers first arrived they were quickly put into groups by age and then divided into cabins. James was with ten other boys his age and two counselors Peter and Tom. James was an intermediate, meaning that he was older then the youngest campers, known as the cubs (or cubbies if you were making fun of them) and the oldest campers, known as seniors. This was done on a green lawn, near a wood chipped path, overlooking a lake.
James unpacked his belongings and got onto the daily groove of things. Up at revelry, breakfast, service activity, morning activity, lunch, rest hour, afternoon activity, dinner, evening games, and bed time; day in and out it was the same thing over and over when suddenly the end of the first week came and it was time to pack for the camping trip.
The trip was three days and two nights long and there were all sorts of things to learn. James was not new to camping but this was different. Everyday the group would seek a new campsite and camp in a different place. One of the older kids told James about Snipe hunting while on a camping trip. James didn’t know what a Snipe was and so he asked his counselors, who seemed to think that a snipe hunt would be a fine idea. They explained that a Snipe is a flightless bird that only comes out at night and is so stupid it will flee towards a person holding a sack, thinking that the sack was the opening to its burrow. For some reason they told the cabin this information with large grins on there faces.
The first night out the group camped on a small island, with a large rock face looked out onto a lake. The island was covered with fur trees and pines and smelled of caramel. After pitching there tents and cooking dinner the group sat down and starting talking about the plans for tomorrow, showing the boys the map when James asked about going for a Snipe hunt. The counselors agreed, after a quick conversation. They told the group that for a snipe hunt you must not wear any bug repellent, or shirt, and that you need to go hunting only after midnight, without falling asleep. They offered the sack to James, teaching him the call of the Snipe coooowwwaaaacchhhhheehheeeee, and wished him luck in the snipe hunt.
Shortly after this most of the campers fell asleep from a hard day of paddling but not James, he fought the fatigue and when his watched beeped midnight he sprang up from his sleeping bag determined to catch a snipe! Stripping off his shirt he strode (well stumbled) into the woods, slapping bugs as he went. After a few moments he let out his first call coooowwwaaaacchhhhheehheeeee and there was no response, nothing happened, after another few moments he let out another call coooowwwa – aaacchhhhheehheeeee and still no response. This went on for an hour, then two, finally James was feeling discouraged give one last call coooowwwa-
Aaacchhhhheehheeeee before going home. Suddenly there was a flutter near him and he heard a call that sent shivers down his spine, coooowwwaaaacchhhhheehheeeee. Raising his sack he called again, and the call was returned when suddenly he felt a great impacted as something flew into his sack and started pecking at him. Frightened, James opened the sack and turned on his flash light, only to see a bird about the size of a hen, with no wings running away from him.
When James told his counselors about the snipe he had captured they became serious and took him aside. They told James that there is no such thing a snipe and that it was all a game…
James knew better….
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Ron Carlson Response
One of my biggest concerns about writing that I had was how close to reality you can bee without crossing the line into autobiography. I found that it was really helpful to see how the story evolved from a personal experience into a work of fiction. Reading this almost felt like I was getting permission to write from a more personal perspective. I had expected to write more sci-fi but I am tapping into something else.
I found myself taking note of the section on page 72 where he talks about the purpose of a scene. That you have to add a detail that distinguishes that setting, taking it from generic to special, not corny but real. In one of his examples Ron talks about a law office and he uses features like the small of mildew, a dying bonsai tree etc. I found that this passage helped me in understanding how a scene should be constructed as unique.
Another part of the book that I found helpful was a tiny passage on page 67. The passage reminds us as writers to always remind our readers what the story is about. We need to give them a sense of urgency, drama, conflict that can be expressed in many ways such as time running out, loss or emotional distress of the character. For the most part I found myself soaking up the author’s advice even though I found the way the story ended to be less then satisfactory, ending abruptly.
The three most important things I learned were:
1. Staying in the room is extremely important because if I leave then the temptation is to stop writing
2. The importance of setting a scene with something special but not over the top.
3. Not to edit while writing. That is a step to be done later.
I think that I can stay in the room if I enter with everything that I need to write with including a snack and a drink. If I can set the environment so that I am satisfied with my surroundings I won’t want to leave. I must try to form a habit for writing that allows me time to edit and refocus at given times. I enjoy a mindless game such as gems that allows me to a fresh look at things when I return to writing. I also like to look over what I just wrote so time is needed to do that as well.
I found myself taking note of the section on page 72 where he talks about the purpose of a scene. That you have to add a detail that distinguishes that setting, taking it from generic to special, not corny but real. In one of his examples Ron talks about a law office and he uses features like the small of mildew, a dying bonsai tree etc. I found that this passage helped me in understanding how a scene should be constructed as unique.
Another part of the book that I found helpful was a tiny passage on page 67. The passage reminds us as writers to always remind our readers what the story is about. We need to give them a sense of urgency, drama, conflict that can be expressed in many ways such as time running out, loss or emotional distress of the character. For the most part I found myself soaking up the author’s advice even though I found the way the story ended to be less then satisfactory, ending abruptly.
The three most important things I learned were:
1. Staying in the room is extremely important because if I leave then the temptation is to stop writing
2. The importance of setting a scene with something special but not over the top.
3. Not to edit while writing. That is a step to be done later.
I think that I can stay in the room if I enter with everything that I need to write with including a snack and a drink. If I can set the environment so that I am satisfied with my surroundings I won’t want to leave. I must try to form a habit for writing that allows me time to edit and refocus at given times. I enjoy a mindless game such as gems that allows me to a fresh look at things when I return to writing. I also like to look over what I just wrote so time is needed to do that as well.
4 senteces...
It’s hard not to think of horses when I think of my youth.
My mother was an aging woman, whose beauty was fading, like the color of her roots.
“I call it like I see it”, shouted my sister!
I waited in line at the movies with Lucy and Dean.
My mother was an aging woman, whose beauty was fading, like the color of her roots.
“I call it like I see it”, shouted my sister!
I waited in line at the movies with Lucy and Dean.
101 words
The kittens arrived so suddenly that we were awe struck by their effect on our lives. We got the call on Friday afternoon. We have kittens in need of a place to stay. It is curious that we have fostered so many and it never changes, the neglect that animals can face through human indifference. These two were in pretty good shape, having been found on the street most likely escaped from some ones house. We listen to them at night running to and fro. We fall asleep to the sound of there play. How quite it will be when they leave?
Week 2: Closer to Memory
The night started with dinner and Jason was eager to go out with his friends to see the hot summer flick in about and hour. Having just graduated high school and eager to see what was over the next horizon. His family was close, just three who were working hard to make it. Tonight it was just Jason and his mom. The house was large, with the kitchen, dinning room and living room flowing into each other.
The conversation that night had somehow turned to dancing and music. With time to spare before leaving and for no other reason then that he liked his mothers company, Jason asked his mom to dance. She considered it for a moment and finally agreed. Jason and his mom had a great time. She showed him the box step and the two step, but the time passed and Jason needed to get ready for the evening. When, to his surprise his mom, with a note of sadness, asked him for one last dance. After a moments hesitation he agreed, more because it seemed to mean a lot to his mother then anything else. She whispered in his ear that someday he would remember this dance and thanked him for taking the time…looking back, years later…she was right.
The conversation that night had somehow turned to dancing and music. With time to spare before leaving and for no other reason then that he liked his mothers company, Jason asked his mom to dance. She considered it for a moment and finally agreed. Jason and his mom had a great time. She showed him the box step and the two step, but the time passed and Jason needed to get ready for the evening. When, to his surprise his mom, with a note of sadness, asked him for one last dance. After a moments hesitation he agreed, more because it seemed to mean a lot to his mother then anything else. She whispered in his ear that someday he would remember this dance and thanked him for taking the time…looking back, years later…she was right.
Monday, September 1, 2008
Week One Writing Challenge
Week One Writing Challenge
In every library there is a book that kills. “What crap!” thought Fen as he glanced at the first sentence of the novel. Fen stood in the dusty, used library browsing for some summer. Fen put the book back and noticed that the entire book shelf creaked and groaned under the weight of old and yellowing paper backs, spilling a bit of dust upon him…AACHOO!
Wondering down the narrow hallway Fen looked at numerous books but could not get that line out of his head… “In every library there is a book that kills.” What could Paul West mean by that? Did he mean that in every library there are books containing ideas that people die for? Inexplicably, Fen found himself, more then an hour later, back at the same spot looking at the novel. Hesitating he pulled the book from the self remembering the fragile state of the bookshelf.
Fen found a table to sit and started to read. Several hours alter he finished the novel and noticed the time, “shit, I am late for dinner! My mom’s gonna kill me!” Fen ran to the shelf and slammed the book into place. The fragile shelf broke apart with a loud crack and dropped hundreds of books on him, along with the shelf. The ambulance was summoned and he was taken to the hospital where he was later pronounced DEAD! Curiously he still clutched the novel.
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