The focus of the following blog post is to explain my revision process that took place while editing my narrative project. Some links I used to help me through this process was What is Fan Fiction -- and why is it making people nervous? and Rewinding and Rewriting: The Alternate Universes in Our Head. Questions answered in the vlog:
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For this next post, I will be composing a found poem revolving around my narrative project. A found poem is taking words or phrases from a finished piece of writing to make new meaning. My narrative project is about a time in my life where a friend of mine made a decision that had a negative impact on me and that is what I’m going to be using for my found poem.
Found Poem of my Past Scene Reading through my work, I realize again "there is no finished project, just a deadline". I do have some changes to make to my project but overall, I am pleased with the end result. I found this poem very easy to do and thought i had enough descriptive language throughout my writing to keep the poem interesting. This week in class we read The Yellow Wall-Paper by Charlotte Perkins Stetson. This is another two-part post so in the first half, I will rewrite The Yellow Wall-Paper and change the story. In the second half, I’m going to write about a time when someone had a negative impact on me as a past scene.
I sit alone staring at the wall before me. With colors that do not match and lines that do not make any sense. I follow the lines hoping it’ll take me somewhere far away from this room. My room is small and anything but cozy and also has bars on the windows. I forget what it feels like to be outside. To have the warmth of the sun kiss my skin and feel the tall grass beneath my feet. My loving husband, John keeps me up here to make me feel better. I’m sick and since he’s a doctor he should know what’s best for me, right? I sometimes question his madness but continue on with it anyways because I know he is just doing this because he loves me. I bring my attention back to the paper. It has a yellow hue but nothing cheerful or pleasing like the color of the sun. I never knew yellow could have this effect on me, a sort of sadness. It’s so dissatisfying and depressing just like the rest of the room. I need to get out. The longer I stay, the more I lose myself. I decide in the morning I begin my journey on how I’m going to get out of this place. I know it will not be easy, but it will be worth it. I notice the bars on the windows and how if I could just fit through them, I could land on the roof and work my way off of the house. Day after day, I pretend to eat my meals Mary brings to me in hopes to eventually fit through the bars. In bed, I lie awake, hungry but then I feel my stomach and body shrinking and I see hope. Three weeks has gone by and as soon as night hits, I’m going to make my move. I gather together a few thinks and toss them out the window. I put my right leg up and through the bars and continue with the rest of my body. I turn my head to the left and gently push it through. It fits. I pull my right leg out and I am free. I take one last look at that horrifying wall-paper and never look back. 10:10 AM and I just landed in the Bahamas. It was hard to contain my excitement. After grabbing my luggage, I follow a group of people from my class outside. The heat smacks you in the face but I didn’t care, the scenery was too beautiful to notice. For senior week, we booked with Grad City, a company that specializes in these types of trips. Me and a bunch of my friends get on the bus that is going to take us to our resort. Palm trees lined the high way and the blue sky looked never ending. After arriving at the resort, we signed in at the front desk, grabbed our room keys and sprinted to out rooms. Without even unpacking, we put on the first bathing suit we see and get to the pool before anyone else. Grad City gave everyone jugs with their names on them to have filled at the bar. Not thinking anything of it, we grab our first drink and hop in the pool. Life was good. The pool felt amazing after being in leggings and a t-shirt and it was finally time to relax. I was surrounded by all of my close friends and my boyfriend. I was sharing a room with my best friend, who just happens to be my cousin, later in the day I head back to our room to take a shower and get ready for the club later that night. While I was in the shower I heard a bang. Not thinking anything of it, I finished up with my shower. A couple minutes later the banging continued, and it was on the bathroom door. I hurry out to see Karen, my cousin passed out on the bed. My friend said she found her in the sand alone. She clearly had too much to drink and was slurring her words. My heart began to ache. I reach for her test kit to check her blood sugars. She’s diabetic. To find her blood sugars to be absolutely crazy. Her numbers were so high that her tester read ‘HI’. It’s not good for her to have all those sugary drinks. I try to remain calm, but my friend left me to deal with her. I gave up my first night to stay with her and make sure she was okay. For this two-part post, I’m going to compose action into two different scenes. The first scene is going to be a rewrite of Tobias Wolff’s piece Bullet in the Brain where I provide a different story line. The second scene will be a specific moment in my life that I put into words and great detail.
Anders, probably already pissed off by his own everyday life, enters the bank and he doesn’t even know that his day is going to go from bad to worse. Irritated by the line that stretched out in from of him, he tunes into a conversation taking place by two annoying women ahead of him. With both him and the ladies noticing the teller place a sign in her window “POSTION CLOSED” anger begins to build in everyone. “Oh, that’s nice” the one woman says with frustration. Anders responds with a sarcastic reply that basically told her to get over it even though he was mad about the situation as well. A moment past and the line barley moving, the two of them went on with their day. As silence took over the bank, everyone stopped what they were doing to look at the two men dressed in blue business suit and ski masks. The one holding a gun pressed up against one of the security guard’s neck. Fear grew over Anders and he felt completely frozen. One of the men in the ski mask orders everyone to get on the ground. The two ladies drop to the ground along with the rest of the people in the building, but Anders still has yet to move. Still frozen, one of the men came up to him with the gun pointed at his head and pushed him to the ground. The robbers take the money they had one of the tellers put in a bag for them. No one was harmed, just scared. In that moment before all of this, he was mad at the world for being boring, but he never realized how precious and fragile life could be. He regrets every taking his life for granite. [edited] As we all stood around a hole in the middle of a small garden, we heard nothing but our sad thoughts in our heads. It has been one year since my cousin left us. The sky is dark and filled with clouds and the rain just won't stop. It was as if the sky was crying for us. We all surrounded the soil while a family member read off a speech. I try and listen to the poem but far too much is going on in my head right now. As I stand under this umbrella, I feel this sense of protection and safeness. I look over at my mother who is hysterically crying which brings a tear to my eye. After the speech is ended, a tree is going into the hole and it was our job to fill it. I watch as my uncles help with this process. As they are removing the tree from the container, the tree looks sad in a way that it needed a home. The roots swayed as they carry it and the branches do not stand tall just yet. This tree is to provide strength and reassurance that it will not go anywhere. With the roots to grow and spread through the ground. I took a cup of soil and walked up to the garden where the tree is. I dump my cup and begin filling the hole for the tree knowing this as to start filling the whole in my heart. Some moments in life stick out to you more than others. They can be important or just something that happens in your everyday routine. For my next post I’ve read What is Creative Nonfiction?by Lee Gutkind andMaking Scenes in Memoir by Lee Martin. I used what I learned from the two readings and created a scene in my present life. I finish cleaning off my last table of the day while thinking to myself “man, I hate this job”. With ketchup splattered all over the table and crumbs all over the floor from the babies that were just “so cute” according to their mothers. I grab my tip money, clock out, and get the hell out of there. Its only 3:30 pm and I’m scheduled to go on at 3:55. I realize the venue is only 10 minutes away with no traffic, but I know I never get that lucky. I hop in my car, (more like my old beat up ford truck. It was my dad’s, and he gave it to me, I try not to complain and beggers can’t be choosers) and drive off. To no surprise, there was tons of traffic, so I wait patiently and listen to my song I’m performing on repeat. After running two red lights, I make it with 7 minutes left until my set. Now remember, I just came from my shift at the Coffee Station and I’m not looking my best. I sprint to the bathroom. I contemplated getting changed but then I realized who really wants to see me in a shirt that says “breakfast makes me smile” with a smiley face made out of eggs and bacons on the back. Yeah, no thanks. I quickly throw my hair up and get changed. Look in the mirror and give myself a quick little pep talk. I normally don’t get all that nervous but after all of this running around I’m a little stressed. As I’m about to go talk to my parents and all of my family members who came out to see me, I remember I don’t have my guitar on me. I forgot it at home. I’m back to stressing again and am now on the verge of tears. I love my guitar and I realize I could play with someone else’s, but it just wouldn’t be the same. I tell my parents and to my surprise, my dad had it with him. My dad says, “I saw that you left this by the front door when you left for work this morning and thought you might need it”. Thank god. I gave them both the quickest hug and they wish me good luck. After all of the clapping ends from the performer before me, I walk up to the small stage that’s barley a stage, but I get excited anyway. I take a seat, plug my guitar in and play. Three minutes and ten seconds go by, but it has felt like an hour. The crowd roars and an endless applause begins. Now frankly, it’s mostly my family cheering but I don’t care. This has to be one of the best feelings ever and I didn’t want the moment to end. I wanted to play another song but that was the end of my time slot. The chills and shakes continue for what felt like forever and you can’t whip this smile off my face that spread from ear to ear. |
Inspiration"Step into a scene and let it drip from your fingertips"- MJ Bush Archives
December 2018
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