Composition Final Assignment, Senior Year

For one of my last assignments for composition, I had to write about what I think my 'writing voice' sounds like. So here is what I came up with after going back and rereading several things I've written over three years. My feelings are not hurt if you don't understand all of it...this was free-writing, so I wasn't even worried if things were spelled wrong. Imaginary Friend, Dust, The Tower Princess, Rapunzel Rapunzel, Cheesepuff, and Hot Air Balloon are all titles of things I've written, either poems, short stories, or novels. Maybe enjoy...if not, just know this is like an inside look at my brain.

Task 9.2

Something I definitely notice about my writing is REPETITION. From the repetition of phrases (Imaginary Friend, Dust, The Tower Princess [at the beginning]) to repetition of themes, such as curses, family problems, deep-rooted desires, popular older brothers you can’t compete with (My first two NaNo stories could have been morphed together without any issue)...stuff like that. I have things on my heart that stick, and so everything I write ends up having the same feelings, themes, ideas. I don’t know if that’s a bad thing. Maybe it means I’m just a one-hit wonder and once I get it perfect I’ll have to quit.

My writing voice sounds like the books I read (particular Gordon Korman, oddly enough. I’m thinking about Schooled, and I definitely see things there.), movies I watch (if dialogue inspires me I adapt it), conversations I have with people (mostly family). It all sounds so WANNABE. Its not particularly unique, but it does sound like me. I have more than one voice, but I’m not sure how many. I always have this angsty feel to what I write. Rapunzel, Rapunzel was an angst-fest. But that was one of my earliest books. I wish I could find my REALLY old novels that were basically Eragon knock-offs, just to see how far I’ve come.

My writing voice has changed by becoming more refined. I write things correctly, without five exclamation points or ALL CAPS WITH WORDS WRITTEN LIKE THIIIIISSSSSS TO ADD EMPHASIS WHERE NONE IS REALLY NEEDED ANYWAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Gosh, I feel like I’m reading Cheesepuff when I look at that sentence!

Since I don’t really know what my writing voice IS, its hard for me to say what parts ‘don’t sound like me’. Any part that’s really steamy or romantic often comes off cliche because I’m trying to write things I’ve never experienced, without consulting anyone who has. Movies are the LAST place to look for reality, that’s one thing I definitely know. I can’t access my Hot Air Balloon story right now, but I feel like that might be the best place to find ‘my voice’. Anyway....I know I use too many adverbs (anyone else notice how many times I use the word definitely in this?), not enough adjectives that actually work, and I rely too much on straight out TELLING the reader what is happening. I can show with words, but its best to use as few words as possible. I also struggle with making verbs work the way that they’re supposed to. I misuse them.

I know I’ve written to please an audience, and it just sounds pained. It’s like a dying whale gasping for breath even though it knows its a goner. I am only successful at writing when I have something to say, I know roughly what I WILL say, and I have time and resources to help me say it as clearly as possible. 

Reasons I shift into another voice? I hate the one I'm using. I will scrap pages of something if my main character starts off whiney I hate whiney main characters. I myself, the main character of my life, am pretty darn whiney, so they get it honestly. 

Oh, I also say 'I Think' and 'I Believe' more than should be legal in one essay.

Defining Joy: In memory of those killed and injured this week.

Today, my composition assignment was to define something in the style of St. Paul, particularly imitating 1 Corinthians 13. Since 1 Cor. 13 talks about love, I wanted to pick a subject that was similar in nature so it would be easier to incorporate the style. I learned this the hard way after having to rewrite the same scene five times last week. So, I chose to define JOY.
As I started writing, I began thinking about the Boston Marathon tragedy that occurred on Monday.  I was at work at the time, and one of my coworkers told me she'd heard about it on the radio. I didn't understand at first, wondering if I heard her right. Why would someone bomb a marathon?
No one actually knows WHY someone bombed the finish line, why they wanted to harm so many innocent people, why they were willing to create destruction that killed at least 3 people.
So as I was writing about the definition of joy, I thought about everyone who is experiencing unbelievable sorrow after the bombing. Joy, unlike happiness, can exist at the same time as sorrow. While my heart is broken for everyone who was harmed and even killed, I am still so joyful and thankful for everyone who is alive today who was minutes, even seconds, from being killed. I have joy in seeing the response of millions of people who are uniting their prayers and sympathies with everyone who was injured and the families of those who were killed. 
I just found out that a chemical plant in West, Texas blew up yesterday and at least fifteen people were killed. Someone tried to poison President Barack Obama. And two 14 year old kids have been charged with murder after killing a homeless person on a dare. Just this week. 
JOY comes from God, who loves us and promises He is still and always will be GOOD, even when there is evil and tragedy in this world.

Here are my three short writings on joy. The first one is in my own style, just some stuff I threw down to get ideas and a basis. The second is my rewrite in the style of St. Paul. The third is the revised version of that rewrite. 
In loving memory of the victims of the Boston Marathon Bombing, 4/15/13, the victims of the Texas Blast, 4/17/13, and for all victims of senseless violence. May they all find strength in the joy of the Lord.

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4/18/13

Definition

My definition in my own style: Joy

Joy. Joy isn’t easy to define, because it is not a synonym for happiness as language leads us to

believe. I have heard many people say that they have experienced joy within their hearts even at the

same time as experiencing deep sorrow or pain. It is a Christian virtue; the JOY of the Lord is our

strength. It is not simply a feeling; it is transcendent. It is not ignoring sadness, or ignoring situations that are contrary to good feelings and happiness. Joy is, in a sense, the overcoming of sorrow. It is delight in some great, unchanging good that no evil, sorrow, or pain can overcome.  Joy is never losing sight of the fact that we are all loved into being by God, and delight in that Love creates something much deeper and permanent than happiness.

My definition rewritten in the style of St. Paul (1 Cor. 13, KJV version): Joy

Though I smile and laugh with people around me, if I do not have joy, it is all superficial, and

lasts but a moment before it comes to nothing.

And though I am cheerful and my circumstances are good and I can forget my troubles and

fears, and if I have all the friends and good company in the world, and can be merry to forget my

hardships, if I do not have joy, it is a passing moment and will give way to other things.

And though I go out of my way to avoid bad news and difficulties and the problems of the

world around me, and though I am known for being a happy person and always willing to smile, if I do not have joy, it cannot last and will do no good to anyone.

Joy can endure; it is lasting; it is self-perpetuating by the merits it leaves behind; it is contagious; it is mysterious and desirable;

It leads people to be freer than they were before; it gives hope and strength to the heart; it

makes a change in those who possess it that is pleasing and perplexing;

It does not flaunt itself, but shines gently from the hearts of those who have it; it cannot help

itself.

Joy can endure what may come. If there is trouble or pain in the world, or within me, joy can

outlast it; if there is fear and uncertainty all around me, joy can overcome it.

For when we are happy, we have a taste of what joy is, but it is only a taste.

When we experience joy, true joy, that taste will turn into a savoring of the bliss and delight

heaven can dispose us to.

When I was young, the goal of my life was to be happy. I avoided what was painful and desired

what felt good; but when I grew older, I desired something better than what felt good; I desired what I

was made for.

And even now when we savor joy in this world, when we reach our heavenly home, our joy will

never be shaken. It will be unadulterated; we will feel only delight in realizing all that we are and all

we’ve been given.

Be happy, be merry, be cheerful, but above all, take joy: for the joy of the Lord is our strength.

My definition rewritten in the style of St. Paul (1 Cor. 13, KJV version): Joy REVISED

Though I smile and laugh with people around me, but I have not joy, it is nothing.

And though I am cheerful and my circumstances are good and I can forget my troubles and

fears, and if I have all the friends and good company in the world, and can be merry to forget my

hardships, if I do not have joy, it is nothing.

And though I go out of my way to avoid bad news and difficulties and the problems of the

world around me, and though I am known for being a happy person and always willing to smile, if I do not have joy, it will not profit me.

Joy can endure; it is lasting; it is self-perpetuating by the merits it leaves behind; it is not

ineffective but contagious; it is mysterious;

It is not binding but freeing to those who find it; it is not self-seeking but self-giving; it is not

easily shaken by external forces:

It comes not from emotions but from a person; Christ Jesus;

Joy never fails. If there is trouble or pain in the world, joy can outlast it; if there is fear and

uncertainty all around me, joy can overcome it.

For when we are happy, we have a taste of what joy is, but it is only a taste.

But when perfect joy enters our hearts, the partial joy of happiness will pass away.

When I was a child, I perceived happiness as a child, I sought it as a child, I made it the goal of

my life as a child; when I grew older, I put away emotions for something greater.

Be happy, be merry, be cheerful, but above all, take joy: for the joy of the Lord is our strength.

Composition Pondering: Can Language Convey Reality & Hemingway vs. Joyce

Just some fast thoughts I typed out prompted by my Composition assignments of the past couple weeks. I was imitating Ernest Hemingway and James Joyce and was asked which I preferred, and also whether or not I feel language can successfully convey reality. Nothing formal, so this is what I came up with Enjoy!

Can language ever do reality justice? Is it better to be Hemingway, the clear, the concise, or Joyce, the flowery, the metaphorical? I think language shapes reality; what we do and say, think and feel, all work together to make up reality, and language is how we retell reality. Can language always convey reality, capture it, reproduce it? 
No, of course not. Most of the time language fails miserable to do what we ask of it. Most of the time language is nothing but words, words, words, and they fall into place all wrong so that when we mean to say something meaningful, it comes out being funny, or vice versa. 
If I say that today I went shopping at Wal-Mart and bought seven things for under $35, does that convey reality? Yes, but it doesn’t convey anything but some of the facts. 
Reality is multifaceted, and the thing that makes language so magical, yet so maddeningly limited, is that it is not as multifaceted as life is. It takes us more time to describe a flower than it did for us to see the flower, smell the flower, touch the flower, smile at the flower, pick the flower, and put the flower in a vase. 
Language is limited, but that is where human beings come in. We all choose what is most important to us and use the language we have to express that importance. 
One person might simply say ‘the flower was a lily’, and another might have no idea what kind of flower it is and slowly and accurately describe a lily, and so well that anyone who has seen a lily before thinks, “Oh, it’s a lily!” 
So, back to that one question: Whose style captures ‘reality’, better: Hemingway’s or Joyce’s? Personally, I think the best way to capture reality is to use a mixture of both the stark fact of Hemingway and the romantic depth and confusion of Joyce. One alone lacks something that we experience in reality; the multifaceted beauty and experience within life itself.

She Walks in Beauty (Lord Byron) Rewritten

Enjoy!


Original:

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

Mine (for school): 

He walks in memories, like a scrapbook
Of nostalgic thoughts and days gone by;
And all life gave him and all life took
Replay and relive behind his eyes:
Thus mellowed by old pages in his life’s book
Which he cannot forget even if he tries.

One moment the more, one day the less
Had half impaired the memories in his mind
From coming forth to his consciousness,
That soft awareness we all must find;
Where thoughts kindly quiet express
How poignant, how pure the feelings memories bind.

And on his tongue, and o’er his head,
So bright, so vivid, yet far away,
The thoughts that sweeten, that hunger fed,
But tell only of days of joy and play,
A mind in love with times now dead,
A pure thought as fleeting as the day!

Shakespeare's Sonnet 18, Rewritten

This was my assignment for composition this week. Enjoy.

Shall I compare thee to a foggy day?

Thou art more gloomy and more opaque:

Poor vision do blur the pleasant sites of May

And safety’s lease hath all too short a date:

Sometimes too low the clouds of sky resides,

And often is our own complexion dimm’d;

And every car into car sometimes collides,

By chance of drivers changing course unplanned;

But the fog not eternal shall fade,

Not keep possession of our sight from east to west;

Hopefully Death shall not brag in fog’s dense shade,

When the road’s lines are hazy like a ghost:

So long as the fog leaves, our eyes can see,

And on lives he out driving in the country.

Composition Qtr 2 Week 8 Essay, Good Friend

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            According to Socrates, “There is no possession more valuable than a good and faithful friend.” But what is it that makes a good and faithful friend? Obviously good friends are loving; that almost goes without saying. But there is more to it than that. I know from my own personal experience that good friends are rare, but worth seeking out. I also know that every person is unique and no two people are alike. There is no ‘good-and-faithful-friend’ mold. However, there are a few key qualities that every truly good friend has.

            First and foremost, a good friend is genuine. They are honest and sincere, no matter who is around or what you’re doing. An experience I had with a careless friend was that she was sincere when it was just the two of us, but tended to ignore me, or even be unkind to me when people she cared more about impressing were around. Another quality of a genuine friend is that they take a sincere interest in you, what you say, your life, and how you’re doing. They don’t just tell you all about what they’re doing and what they think, but make sure to pay special attention to your thoughts and feelings. They don’t interrupt, and they don’t just listen; they also consider what you have to say. I’m often the kind of friend who likes to hear about myself too much; even when I am truly interested in the person I’m talking to. A genuine friend knows when to be silent, brutally honest, or simply kind. If you ask a good friend if you look ok, they’ll probably say yes even if you look terrible because they don’t care what you look like, and they don’t want to hurt your feelings. But a true friend, in ordinary circumstances (where no one is in danger), never tells a lie. They will always be honest and answer a question, even a painful one, for the sake of their friend.

            Secondly, a good friend is patient and merciful. I have both been the friend and had the friend who listens quietly while someone just needs to vent about something, or express a fear, joy, or frustration. It can be annoying, but people can’t very often figure everything out on their own. A good friend supports you through all the stressful, emotional times. A patient friend is also willing to accept your everyday faults and failings. When my best friend and I were eight or nine, we decided to come clean about the one thing that truly annoyed us about the other. I admitted I got annoyed when she wanted to help her mom or do work when I came over, but in the end I learned that I would rather pull weeds with that girl than never see her at all. Her annoyance with me was even smaller; she disliked how I almost never got my hair cut! We became closer and more patient with each other through admitting those petty little annoyances, even though we were so young. Also, a good friend is merciful. No matter how many times you screw up, they will forgive all your faults and every little annoyance.

            A good friend is not only merciful, they are self-sacrificing. I remember my older sister had made plans with three friends to go to a dance, but a few days before, came down with a bad cold and just didn’t feel well enough to get dressed up and be active all night. She hated to disappoint her friends, but they cared more about her well-being than their fun night. They all cheerfully and drastically altered their plans so that rather than going out and dancing, they had a low-key night together watching movies and playing board games. Their genuine love for my sister drove them to sacrifice themselves and cater to her needs, not even minding if she got them sick. The truth is, the best of friends will always do what is best for you, even though that might not always be to take you back if you’ve hurt them. I know several people who had to very decisively end friendships that were hurting them, ultimately for the good of their misguided friend, who they still truly cared about. A self-sacrificing friend wills your happiness and well-being over their own, and will do what is best for both of you, not what is least painful or most convenient.

            Finally, a good and faithful friend is just that; faithful. Faithfulness is the only thing that keeps friends together, especially long-distance friends. The friends I have who live closest to me are over two hours away, and without faithful friendship, it would be so easy, and at times convenient, to lose track of each other completely. However, I have been blessed with very faithful friends, who not only want to keep up with me; they make a sincere effort to, in spite of their busy lives and the other friends they see far more regularly. A faithful friend is also persistent in trying to help you; to achieve a dream, difficult trials, or simply with correcting personal flaws. Faithful friends never give up on you, and never let you give up on yourself, either. Faithful friends also take the time to look for the best in you. My friend once told me I should be a seamstress and a comedian in the same day. She has always assured me that whatever she loves in me, all the good she sees in me, I could make a whole career out of.

            Without a doubt, my best friends, the most good and faithful, are the ones who, when I’m with them, I’m my favorite version of myself. Through their sincerity, patience, mercy, self-sacrifice, and faithfulness, they encourage me to be better than I am now. Absolutely everyone needs good and faithful friends, and so hopefully I can be a good friend, too.  

Composition Qtr 1 Week 7, Movie Critic

The Sorcerer’s Apprentice Vs. Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief

            The two films The Sorcerer’s Apprentice and Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief are from the same year (2010), the same genre (fantasy), the same film studio (Disney), and have many fundamental similarities. However, they have many more technical differences that put them leagues apart in quality.

            Both movies merge action and fantasy and appealed to a broad spectrum of ages and interests. They both used the tried and true ‘misfit becomes hero’ formula; both the heroes of the movies, Percy Jackson and Dave Stutler, were always different from the people around them and many times questioned their own sanity because of unexplainable circumstances their unique gifts led to. Interestingly, both characters were from New York City, too.

            The Lightning Thief, based on Rick Riordan’s New York Times bestseller series*, came out in February 2010. Starring in it were Logan Lerman and Pierce Brosnan. The movie got a lot of hype because of the large fan base the book series has. Taken completely aside from the fact that it deviated from the book, the movie was overall very disappointing, especially when compared to The Sorcerer’s Apprentice. The special effects were rather poor, especially scenes that could have been so much more visually stunning. The plot wasn’t well conveyed and often relied on random humor to keep you interested. A pet peeve of mine is when you can obviously tell people are ‘acting’. There were a lot of scenes where the actors didn’t express enough emotion to convince you of the story. The intensity and action were inconsistent throughout, and the romance between Percy Jackson (Lerman) and Annabeth Chase (Alexandra Daddario) was unconvincing. The ending was semi-satisfying, but left you wanting a sequel just to more strongly conclude it.

            The Sorcerer’s Apprentice came out three months later in July. Starring in it were Nicholas Cage and Jay Baruchel. It was based off of a clip from a Disney Fantasia video. The special effects were incredible and very well-done, especially considering how many parts with animals they had in it, along with a very realistic dragon. The story was conveyed well and very smoothly. The actors reacted realistically to events and kept everything both believable and enjoyable. The action was consistent, and the humor was witty and well distributed throughout the movie. Dave Stutler’s (Baruchel) relationship with Becky Barnes (Teresa Palmer) developed believably and both of them were a little bit awkward, which was a fun relief from the stereo-typical movie couple. The ending was gratifying, but also left hints that might someday lead to a sequel of some sort.

            Every movie needs good plot, good characters, good action, and, yes, good romance. Overall, The Sorcerer’s Apprentice much more satisfyingly delivered on every level than The Lightning Thief. Certain scenes in The Lightning Thief were truly fantastic, particularly the scene in the Lotus Casino, and certain elements of The Sorcerer’s Apprentice were disappointing, and the plot could have been more thoroughly developed. Taken as a whole, while I enjoyed both movies, The Sorcerer’s Apprentice was much more enchanting and thrilling, and it’s one that I could easily watch again and again.

*Note: I made every effort to honestly assess the movie Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief, which was overall disappointing, but this review was not written to the effect that the movie didn’t do the books justice, but expresses my actual feelings about the movie on its own. I would just like to say, however, now that the essay is done, that the book series by Rick Riordan is amazing beyond all reason, and no, the movie did NOT do it justice.

Composition Essay, Perfect Place to Study

Composition Qtr 1 Week 4 Essay, Perfect Place to Study

            Off into the hidey hole I go.

Somewhere there’s a quiet place. It’s quiet, but not so quiet you feel you’ve been completely swallowed up by your schoolbook and you are now the only human being left in the universe. There is plenty of light to shine through the big window, and outside you can see a weeping willow and a tire swing. Sometimes hummingbirds and butterflies fly past, and when it gets cold, you can watch the cardinals at the feeder while resting your mind and your eyes.

            The walls are a warm, pleasing cream, but not white. White walls make you feel like you’re in a hospital; studying in a white room makes you feel like you’re in a hospital for your brain. But the walls still must be neutral, so you can imagine taking a big, fat Sharpie to them one of these days and pouring everything down on them. Everywhere there is pleasing color, and a beautiful, unique painting or two. Sometimes you need a little bit of distraction; otherwise you’ll lose your mind.

            The floors have soft, thick, deep indigo carpet so you can lay out on it and not get all cramped up as you prop yourself up on your elbows and read ancient Grecian literature. Pillows are strewn about in organized chaos. Little ones. Big ones. Sometimes to effectively learn, you need to build a nest to nestle down in. No bird can hatch her eggs without a nest. No girl can hatch any knowledge without one, either. There is a humongous, very comfortable brown saucer chair, but it mustn’t recline too far; falling asleep while studying is no good. There is a beautiful fireplace and warm blankets and cozy socks because sometimes merely opening up Shakespeare sends a chill up your spine.

            I suppose there must also be a desk, but the rolling chair offers good support, and there is an ottoman to put your feet up on, but it isn’t so high as to drain all the circulation out of your feet and end up hobbling around feeling like little needles are dancing the mambo from your heels to toes. Everything you need is there; paper, pencils, pens, erasers, a computer and printer (complete with access to Google when you get absolutely stuck), and a brilliant and sympathetic scientific calculator named Herv. Herv understands your pain, but disagrees that all algebra books should be burned. He motivates you and is mean when he needs to be. Every procrastinator needs a Herv.

            Finally, up on the wall, right where you’ll always see it, somehow even when your back is turned, is all your inspiration. A crucifix hangs there on the wall, simple yet complex in its beauty and power. It’s easy to forget, but impossible to ignore. When I’m ready to fling myself down and cry simply because I can’t understand, or I’m weary, or I would rather do anything but be educated, I can look up at the cross and find strength. I love you, he silently says. His eyes meet mine, though his head is bowed. He loves me. I must carry on.

            Than out of the hidey hole I must come.

How will we ever learn, if we don’t stop learning for a little while?