with This is my sixth blog post and for this one I will be like my previous post but with some different things happening. For this the following texts helped me complete this assignment.
Rewinding & Rewriting: The Alternate Universes in Our Heads Two Views of the River Kramer vs. Kramer: Action Scene Kramer vs. Kramer: End-Resolution Scene Similar to the podcast, I will be telling a story I've told before but this time I will change one of my actions and imagine how everything else will change because of that. As I'm staring intently at the TV playing Minecraft with my brothers and I faintly hear my mom having a conversation with someone. With my young and noisy mind peaked, I make my way upstairs to try and eavesdrop on her conversation. When I take a peek into her room I see her sitting on her bed with her hand on her face, slouched over, with shaky legs. I approach her and ask "What's wrong Mom?" She turns her head away and her voice breaks up as she says "No I'm okay baby." "Are you sure Mom?" "Yea I'll be fine" I walk over to her and the instance I see her my heart shatters. Her face is blood red with clear signs that she has been crying intensely. I go to hug her as my first instinct and I could feel her trembled terribly. She starts bawling abruptly as I try to hug as tight as I could but with every tear she leaned more on me and I was only 12 or 13 years old. What felt like ten minutes go by and my older brother comes upstairs starts hugging my mom too. Once she acknowledges my older brother she calms down and the trembling subsides. l ask her once again "Seriously Mom what's wrong?" As she wipes her tears away with shaky hands she fluctuates in tone as she explains explains her phone call to me and my older brother. "Grandma just called me and I'm sorry to say but pop pop passed away this morning." My older brother just said "Whoa". I was speechless because there was literally nothing I could say. I was thinking about everything but also nothing. That stunned me to the point where I couldn't even move.
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This is my fifth blog post and for this one I will be writing about an emotional moment I shared with someone I had in my life using descriptive language that should make it emotional for the person reading it. Its theme should be similar to Maya Angolou’s theme in “My Name is Margaret” because both will have moments where we’re young children.
I was playing videogames with my when my mom came in said "I got something I gotta tell you guys" in a very somber tone. We pause the game and when we looked over we over and saw our mom hunched over with her head down and her face red and lifeless. I immediately ask "What's wrong Mom?" because I could see and hear her lack of energy. She gets choked up as she struggles to say "Pop pop is gone." Before I could even think about it I rush to hug her as tight as I could. As I hugged her I could feel her tears falling onto my shoulder as they were being absorbed by my shirt. I could feel her body getting weaker by the second and that's when my other brother came to hug as too and that's the first time I had ever seen him cry and after everyone's face was red. At that moment the air felt so heavy and I felt as dense as rock but also as vulnerable as a feather. My grandfather had cancer and was diagnosed as terminally ill for about a month before he passed so that gave me and my family time to process and think about what’s going to happen. Despite that though, it was still very hard for me emotionally because I was very close with him. He was a great cook and loved doing it so most of my best moments with him took place in his kitchen and I didn’t mind at all because I loved to eat and his food was amazing. When he was alive, whenever I took one step into his house the savory smell of fried chicken or pork chops hit my nostrils and gets me excited to eat. The moment I smell it it immediately dash to the kitchen which is in the back of the house while I enter the front and every time I do it I notice but disregard my grandmom screamed “STOP RUNNING TRE!” Then once I get to the kitchen, he’s always there waiting for me with his arms open and ready for a hug. His hugs are even better than his cooking because he always made me feel cozy in his arms. So the day before he passed away me and my family were expecting it but we weren't expecting how much it would hurt us internally. We went to go see him and the whole ride home it was ominously silent and there was a subtle sense of doom in the air. When we get there my grandmom simply says "Hey y'all" in a low tone with her head down. We all say hey without even looking at her and you make our way to our granddad laying down. He was very weak looking compared to how he usually is and couldn't raise his arms to give us a hug. This is my fourth blog post and it is about my writing process and how I use other authors words to help describe it. The authors and their pieces of work that I will be using are Don Murray’s Teach Writing as a Process Not a Product, Mary Karr’s Against Vanity: In Praise of Revision, and Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life.
In the strange land known as Rio Vermelho (Red River in Portugese) there is a wandering explorer that goes by the name of Tre. On one of his most recent expeditions he finds a cave and at the entrance there’s words engraved into it that say: “The writing process itself can be divided into three stages: pre-writing, writing, and re-writing” -Don Murray. This was completely random to Tre because to him his writing strategy was to procrastinate until you needed to write so that you could write everything down quickly and be done with it. So he entered the cave and saw indistinct engravings on the walls all over. However there was one that was literate and it said “Writing is painful- it is “fun” only for novices.” "Other than a few instances of luck, good work only comes through revision.“ "The best revisers often have reading habits that stretch back before the current age, which leads them to a sense of history and raises their standards for quality.” All of this was under a big name at the top that read: Mary Karr. At that moment Tre realized that he may have stumbled upon the Fabled “Literacy Cave”. There have been stories about the so called first author, Anne Lamott. Some of the most notable quotes from her stories are: “writing can be a pretty desperate endeavor, because it’s about some of our deepest needs: our need to be visible, to be heard, our need to make sense of our lives, to wake up, grow and belong.”, “E.L. Doctorow once said that “writing a novel is like driving a car at night. You can see only as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way”, and “Almost all good writing begins with terrible first efforts.” Tre believed it was all a myth up and writing was nothing but an irrelevant form of communication that not many people used. He walked in the cave a wanderer and left a linguist. |
Red RiverI'm a man of few words but I will use this blog to make sure whatever I write is meaningful to me and hopefully to others as well. ArchivesCategories |