Creative Writing E-Portfolio by drewdeiser

TABLE OF CONTENTS Author Biography ................................................................... 3 Section 1: Creative Nonfiction ................................................ 4 Part A: Rough Drafts.............................................................. 4 Part B: Revised Drafts ............................................................ 6 Section 2: Fiction ................................................................. 11 Part A: Rough Drafts............................................................ 11 Part B: Revised Drafts .......................................................... 25 Section 3: Poetry ................................................................... 47 Part A: Rough Drafts............................................................ 47 Part B: Revised Drafts .......................................................... 49 Section 4: A Self-Reflection Essay: ....................................... 51

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Word count is labeled in sections

AUTHOR BIOGRAPHY

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Drew Deiser is a Junior at the University of Indianapolis studying exercise science. He enjoys laughing, good company and watching anime. His name is the past tense of draw.

SECTION 1: CREATIVE NONFICTION •

Sample: 1,000-2,000 words (this may be a longer essay or several micro/flash essays or a combo)

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Word Count Section: o Rough Drafts: 541 o Revised Drafts: 1,537 PART A: ROUGH DRAFTS

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Number 1: The Pump The only thing that brightens my day anymore, the gym. It is a sanctuary. Allowing

people to find peace. Allows me to be alone, stay focused, and to become more powerful. There is a certain type of energy in the gym. That energy radiates through your entire body. Fueling your efforts, increasing or decreasing them. Motivating people to reach their goals. To reach their dreams. You can sit in your room and be unhappy and lazy. Or you can visit a gym and work. Make yourself feel better and conquer the day. Being a loyal weightlifter is difficult labor. Strict workouts, endless eating, scheduled routines. However, it is worth the grind and effort. There is a bigger reward. There is a feeling of pure power. The moment your entire body seizes up and you feel girth. When the light hits your biceps just right. That is the pump. The fire burning inside of your muscles, stinging your body. There is a certain discipline that comes with it. To chase the pump, well isn’t the greatest thing. But it feels really good. To work hard and tire yourself out is very difficult and sometimes that doesn’t feel the greatest. It is a cycle where you need to train hard and receive the pump while working tiresomely. It won’t be easy, neither will

it be super-duper hard. It depends on how much work you are willing to put in. What you give is what you will receive. I am willing to receive and take as much as possible. •

Number 2:

Good Person, Bad Believer

Growing up, I was emerged in Christianity, more specifically, Catholicism. I went to a catholic grade school and a catholic high school. I wouldn’t say that my relationship is the best with God, but I don’t think it is the worst either. The truth is I am unsure of my faith at the age of 21. There are so many factors that play on both sides of reality and fiction. No one is truly sure of their religion, that is why you must have faith and hope. I am still catholic, just a crappy one. I rarely pray, I hardly go to mass, I curse, you could say I am not the best, but does that make me a bad person? I am not agnostic either, I believe in something, maybe not a 6’3 white Jesus, but maybe a higher/godly power. I picked this topic because over the last few years I’ve been losing my faith, so explaining my viewpoint from growing up super catholic vs now being not the greatest catholic makes me believe my perspective and questions to be superior or broader (that isn’t a flex, it is just my viewpoint). However, there is a bigger picture, or there should be. I don’t care what someone believes in, I did when I was much younger since I was ignorant and simple minded, but now, all I really care about is if they are a genuine person. Not everyone will be the nicest in the world, I understand that. We all have our days, but when I hang out with someone, I see if that person treats others the way they want to be treated. It’s that simple.

PART B: REVISED DRAFTS •

Number 1: The Pump

Some people won’t ever experience it, others will tell you to chase it. It is a choice, it is a lifestyle, it is the pump. The pump is a burning sensation, an invitation to hell, or as bodybuilders used to call it…an orgasm, the greatest thing alive. We must go to where it all began. The sanctuary itself, the gym. The Church of Iron, allows people to find peace, build confidence, and even sweat out their problems. Motivating people to grow and reach specific goals, building up a foundation, like a school or a growing tree. No one can judge the person working in the gym, but only the person who does not go to the gym, will stay weak. Some people don’t have the mental toughness to flip the switch. It’s a routine, that forces the person to get physically and mentally stronger than most people. It is the feeling you get when you look at yourself in heavenly lighting, inflated up from your previous set and look mad nasty in the mirrors. It is an escape from reality, into your own universe, where you can be whatever you want to be. From a third person P.O.V, it is you and the bar, no one else is around. All you have to do is get the weight up. Push and Pull. Some people are still afraid to make that first step. That first step to a completely new life, to a completely better life. It is very difficult and comes with a certain discipline, that is why some folks will never attain it. That doesn’t mean you should not try, that is most of the battle, just showing up because you won’t feel 100% all the damn time. That’s OKAY! The gym allows us to recreate ourselves in any shape possible and we must first fail in order to achieve success. That is why it is so damn hard; people tend to shy away from discomfort. Well, if we never challenge ourselves with adversity, then we will never know whether or not we can accomplish it. It comes down to how much work you are willing to put in 6

to see the results you want to see. If you are having trouble, then it is your responsibility to take a step back, assess your situation, and make adjustments in your life to create solutions. When life gives you lemons, you squeeze the shit out of the lemons and get back to work. Nobody will give you anything, you got to earn it, every single day.

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Number 2: Good Person, Bad Believer Growing up, I was emerged in Christianity, more specifically, Catholicism. I went to a

Catholic grade school and a catholic high school. Even then, I still struggled with the idea of Christianity. My parents sent me there not because it was going to strengthening my “faith”, but rather because it was an overall “better environment”. Private schools have this stigma of being “rich” and “stuck-up” with a stricter dress-code, harder grading scale, and having more money. In reality, that was not the case. The majority of people were well off, but it wasn’t just “daddy’s money and God”. Not everyone drove a new car or had a lake cottage. Not everyone was an asshole. However, everyone did come from different backgrounds; the most thing we had in common was our faith. As a kid, it was easy to follow the faith since we were young and simple minded. In grade school we had religion class once a week, while having an hour mass two times the same week. This mass never counted because it was during the week and not on the Lord’s Day (we were receiving spiritual blessings, which is a good thing, but different story). All the interaction burned me out in grade school. They would shove it down our throats and if I told my teachers that I didn’t agree, they’d say I was wrong and wouldn’t tolerate feedback, basically forcing us to

agree with them. It was a lot for a kid growing up. In high school I thought religion class would be better, but it was just alright. High school religion wasn’t the greatest, but it did play a huge role in the growth and foundation of who I am. My relationship with God wasn’t the worst thing ever, nor the best entering high school. During high school my faith didn’t grow much of any because of the teachers, however, I did grow as a person. Some teachers were awesome and taught very well, but most of them were weird and narrow minded, just like when I was a kid, which confused me. The teachers were preaching “do this” and “for him”, but they (in my opinion) were not good people. I was unsure of what sufficed as good or evil in high school. I wasn’t okay with the idea of being a hypocrite, since it was super easy too. I praise Christ, but I just beat that one kid up or you tell someone not to smoke cigarettes, but chief a carton? It’s pure nonsense! I think learning about God and Jesus is badass because now I know more about the history, stories, and even the people of Christianity. I am not here to diss on it. However, you can’t be your brother’s keeper, as a hypocrite (in my opinion). Not only does being a hypocrite bother me, but no one is truly sure of their religion’s factuality. No one is truly sure what awaits them after death. That is why you must have faith and hope. I find the concept of belief entirely out of trust to be really intriguing. Take me, I am not agnostic, I do not believe in a 6’3 white Jesus, but I do believe in a god or higher power. I am Catholic, but I hardly pray, I rarely go to mass and I curse. Does that make me a bad person? What’s better, a genuine person or a shitty Catholic? I struggled with this idea of a good person vs a bad catholic. I think that as long as the person is kind and spreads their message respectfully, then there shouldn’t be an issue.

On the other hand, we must agree that the solar system, vegetation, and our bodies are too perfect to not have some spiritual presences among us. Think about how the air in our ecosystem works so well that our lungs are able to breathe in and convert the air. What about how we rotate around a floating orange ball of gas. Something created them, and if we can’t agree on what that someone looks like (which shouldn’t matter) then we must agree upon that fact that something higher and greater than us gave us that natural beauty, which we named Earth. We should praise and thank them through acts of kindness and take care of our planet. Do you need to be a saint to be a soul saver? I picked this topic because over the last few years, even in high school, I’ve been losing my faith, but finding myself as a person. I wanted a topic that I could explaining my viewpoint from growing up super catholic vs now being “not the greatest catholic”, but still a nice guy. This makes me believe my perspective and responses to be superior or less biased (that isn’t a flex, it is just my viewpoint). As I stated earlier, I am not dissing Catholics, that would make me a hypocrite. I just wanted to give my opinion on certain aspects from my life that have influenced certain decision. I am sure if I didn’t go to a catholic grade school that I’d probably be a more stable catholic. Instead of having it shoved down my throat, I could have discovered it myself. The consistency between religion class and actually mass burned my lightbulb. Or if I never had some of those crappy teachers back in high school, maybe I’d be more confident with my faith. However, there is a bigger picture that needs to be addressed. We focus too much on what religion people follow, rather than whether or not they are righteous people. I don’t care what someone believes in. I really care about is how they treat others. Not everyone will be the nicest in the world, I understand that. We all have our days, but when I hang out with someone,

they better respect me with the same if not more respect back. Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m not sure if I was taught that at home or at school, but kindness is the greatest superpower. Remember that we all donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t speak the same, think the same, or are from the same place. But humans have a connection through emotions and struggle that allows us to know one another. Everyone can relate with struggles caused by family or friends. Your emotions can fluctuate at any time. Hard to control one week, the next just high on life. People say we have nothing in common, well you better tell them to think again because we have a ton in common, even if we donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t believe in the same religion.

SECTION 2: FICTION •

Sample: 1,000-2,000 words (this may be a longer story or several flash stories or a combo)

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Word Count Section: o o

Rough Drafts: 3,798 Revised Drafts: 4,511 PART A: ROUGH DRAFTS

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Number 1: The Cursed Notebook

It was mid-October, the trees were changing colors, the air was harsher, and the weather was gloomier. Most days felt repetitive in a way, since winter was approaching, the atmosphere shifted, darken days were coming. Kent thought so at least, regardless, he hated winter, always had. Kent was an inspiring writer who was working on a piece of his own. He was writing for his girlfriend, who was stationed overseas in the military. Until one day, Kent was given a mysterious notebook, that changed his outlook on life. Kent wakes up before the sun even has a chance to rise. His girlfriend is military, so waking up early is a normal ritual, it’s in his routine. Kent enjoys getting an early start, it makes him feel superior. This allows him to finish the house chores and then have the rest of the day for himself. Normally, him and his girl would take their dog for walks or go on cute dates, but now Kent has spent most of his free time writing. Kent was an author, who had his own YouTube Channel with over 700k subscribers. He posted short clips of his books and give behind the scenes on his writing process, stuff like that. Recently, the New York Short Story Club reached out to Kent

and asked if he would write a piece for October, Kent replied with of course, but didn’t realize the slump he would be in. He wasn’t able to complete the story because of the lack of character development, plus he experienced major writers block after his girlfriend left. Kent wasn’t able to get over this slump and was nervous that the NYSSC wouldn’t enjoy his story. He searched and typed, ripping out pages and pages of notebook paper. So stressed and disappointed that he eventually ran out of notebook paper. Kent left for the walk-in market down the street. The air was sharper than most culinary knifes, it was harsh and ripping into Kent’s skin. The market was only a few blocks from their apartment, but it felt like miles. Kent never liked winter because of the weather mainly, he grew up on the west coast in Nevada, where it never snowed and was always dry or humid. he thought that the cold was gloomy and depressing, it reminded him of his past, which he never like speaking about. The only person who really knows Kent is his girlfriend. As Kent pushed the market’s door open, a flood of warm air pushed among his face, Kent sighed with relief as if he just found the entrance to heaven. The owner yelled “Good morning” and went back to reading the paper. There wasn’t much that Kent needed, except for some new notebooks. He would normally type all of his work out, but once in a while he will go back and forth from paper to computer, Kent said in one of his YouTube videos that “the hop between paper and keyboard allows for my hands not only to flow differently, but let’s my mind flow differently too”. He purchased the notebooks and left the market. The journey home was worse than the way there. The snow was heavier, and Kent could hardly see. He was worried that their dog Cherry was freaking out, he also hated winter. Rushing home to check on Cherry, Kent managed to slip on a patch of ice and hit his head! Discombobulated, he managed to make it home before the snowstorm buried them.

After Kent made it home safely, he fell asleep because his head still hurt from the fall. When Kent awoke from his slumber, he felt rejuvenated. Kent had ideas. For some reason he had it. He had what he was looking for in his story. It was in his mind; he pictured the descriptions for his characters. He found the notebook that he just purchased and started to write. He was flying through pages, describing a few side characters that needed touch-ups, and other characters that needed different dialogues. Kent was on top of the ball, killing anything that got in his way (metaphorically, of course). The big issue Kent was having was the main characters detail’s, should they have brown or red hair, should they be tall or short? What type of clothes should they were? Before the market, Kent was struggling, but after the market, Kent felt like a new man. He settled with a tall leaner man, who had a deep voice and dark skin. The guy’s name was Carl, and he was an electrician for a company Kent made up. Super nice guy who needed help from a neighbor that wasn’t available, so another bystander had to step in. Kent was so relieved that he was able to finish his story, not only for himself, but for NYSSC. He didn’t want to let them down as a community, since they asked him 6 months prior for the piece. Kent was happy, he wanted to call his girlfriend, but she wasn’t going to answer, he thought about calling his mother, but they haven’t spoken in years. That is the real reason why Kent has a deep hate for winter, it is because his mother…there was a loud bang coming from the hallway. The doorbell rang, he rushed to see what was happening. When Kent opened the door, he was confused. There was a slim black man wrestling with a skinny white man at the end of the hall. Kent hurried and broke up the rumble. He was asking “what’s the problem?” and “stop fighting you idiots!” After the two got separated, they continued to yell and argue amongst each other. Kent’s expression went blank for a second, he wasn’t sure how to react because the fitter black man was dressed as an electrician, with the

name tag Carl. It was exactly how Kent thought of what his Carl would seem like in his story. Kent pondered for a minute, thinking maybe he hit his head a little too hard. However, Kent invited the Carl into his home because he wanted more information. Kent’s neighbor at the time refused, but Kent pleaded with the man, saying whatever the issue was that he would take care of it. The neighbor accepted and Kent got to speak with Carl. As they were talking with each other, Kent picked up on certain cues that he had in his mind. Some were simple like where his Carl was from and what his home life was like. Every exact detail that the electrician Carl spoke about, Kent had the exact same detail in his head, and it was all written down in his notebook. It was like someone copy and pasted Carl from Kent’s notebook. After Carl left the apartment, Kent immediately rushed to his notebook and began editing another character. Before long, there was another knock at the door. The second character Kent wrote about was a young boy named Caleb, who needed to get home. The kid was lost and very cold due to weather in Kent’s story, when Kent wrote about him in the notebook, he made sure to add specific details that only he would understand. He made sure that Caleb was a certain height, weight, and even blood type. He wanted to see the limits of the notebook, see if there were any restrictions or rules about it. Kent wasn’t a conspiracy theory junkie, but he felt something in his gut and went after it. It was more or less 20 minutes after Kent finished and nothing had happened. Kent was pacing through the apartment, back and forth, waiting for a ring, call, knock, anything! He waited a couple hours and eventually started to shack off the idea of a “magic” notebook and got ready for bed. It wasn’t until Kent was getting into bed, when he heard the doorbell. He ran towards the door to open it, standing there was a young boy who was shivering from heads to his toes. Kent with excitement, jumped and invited the young boy in. He immediately grabbed him warm towels and clean clothes. (granted none of

the clothes fit, but whatever.) He asked the kid what his name was, the kids replied with Caleb. Kent asked the kid all sorts of questions while feeding him Oreos and hot cider, so the kid stayed distracted. After they finished their conversation, Kent called the police department to take the kid away to find his parents. Kent could not believe himself, he had an actually magic notebook, anything he wrote about came to life. He needed to keep writing. For the entire week, Kent continued to make up fictional characters, testing and playing with the notebook. He needed more information on it, so he wrote and wrote. Until he found out that the notebook only allowed him two fictional characters a day, or in 24 hours. He wasn’t sure what the limits were on it either, wondering how accurate can it be? So, every single time, the new character would get a little more detailed, that being their clothes or their thoughts and personality, since Kent could control that too. He wrote about how this woman’s car broke down, so she gave it to Kent. Kent also wrote about a man who was the same build as Kent. The man came one day with a bunch of stylish clothes on and left wearing his Kent’s old boxers. Kent was abusing the notebooks powers for selfish reasons. He started making up characters for his own amusement, having fight nights or reenact movie scenes. It was getting out of control, until one morning Kent got a knock on his door. He thought it was odd since he hadn’t written anything this morning. When he opened it, a military officer was standing there with a letter. It was addressed to Kent, from his girlfriend. It was a notice of decease; Kent’s girlfriend was killed in the line of duty. Kent closed his door and began to cry, his entire future with his girlfriend was gone because she was gone. Kent had never felt this pain inside his chest, it was like a million needles were slicing him from the inside. Then Kent thought of an idea, to use the notebook to bring back Maria! He wasn’t sure what to do, he had never tried to bring someone back from the dead. Kent didn’t care, all he wanted was to see his baby again, so he grabbed his notebook and

wrote down the most accurate description of Maria he could possibly think of, her memories, her face, what she sounded like, etc. Twenty minutes later, there was a knock on the door. When Kent opened the door, his face flooded with emotions. The girl standing outside of his apartment was Maria, or what looked like Maria. Kent grabbed her arm and gave her the longest and hardest hug; tears wouldn’t stop rolling down his face. They talked and laughed the entire night. Kent quickly forgot about the notebook, since he was spending all his time with Maria. It was only a few days after the new Maria arrive, but Kent noticed something odd. He felt that Maria was acting strange or misplaced. She would start to “glitch” or stutter on her words or actions. It got so bad that she started to break things in the apartment, Kent tried to keep her calm, but she eventually snapped. Kent assumed this was a side effect from the notebook. Maria lost control of her emotions, body, and entirely her soul. Maria wasn’t Maria, the person living with Kent was an animal, a demon from that cursed notebook. Kent didn’t think twice, he ran for the notebook to burn it, however demon Maria was on his ass! Kent ran as fast as he could, weaving and dodging as many attacks from demon Maria as he could. When he finally found the notebook, Kent started to feel light-headed. He was dazed and confused, he looked down and he had lost a good amount of blood from Maria. He needed to act quickly, but by the time he found the lighter. Maria was standing right in front of him. Kent tried lighting the notebook on fire, but Maria didn’t let him, she stabbed him right in the chest and took the notebook. Kent collapsed to the floor, more dead than crap, just lying there. “Kent you have a visitor, wake up.” – Doctor

“Where am I”? – Kent

“You’re at the hospital silly”. – Doctor

“Why am I at the hospital Doc”? – Kent

“Well someone found you lying in the middle of the street with a big gash in your head” – Doctor

“If they didn’t call 9-1-1 after you hit your head on that ice patch, then you might’ve not been alive, but let’s not talk about that, you have a visitor” – Doctor

“Who is it”? – Kent

Maria walked through the door.

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Number 2: Jack and the 3099 Bean Stock It was a very grey afternoon in the United Kingdom, mid-September, normally there would be an array of sunshine, but lately there’d been an abundance of extra clouds roaming around. Jack noticed that the dreariness and dumpy weather was upsetting the animals on the farm. Jack was a normal teenager, who took care of his mother and the livestock. Jack’s father passed away while he was just a little boy, very sad actually, an ox came from behind and split him right down the middle. Almost like a bean stock splitting into two; anyways Jack’s mother, Theresa, knew that the clouds were roaming for a reason.

“She told Jack to take one of our cows to the market and make some extra cash”. “There is going to be a very bad storm in a few days”! said Mom

So, the next morning, Jack left his mom and the dinky little farmhouse to travel to the next town over to sell one of their cows. Little did Jack know that the trade he would make for the cow would also lead him to a future betrayal.

The Market Jack went into the market with an open mind on what to get, even though his mother told him to make some money. He was super excited though! He had never been to the market before; alone, with a cow, and he wanted some fresh air, away from his mom. She had been really annoying. Telling him that he needed to find a girl and that he 18

should be focusing more on planting skills than livestock training. How ridiculous he thinks!

“It is almost laughable, but what would you know about laughing, you are just a cow”. said Jack

“Excuse me! Sir? Do you know where I could find a place to sell my cow”? said Jack

*Random guy places hand on jack’s shoulder

“Of course, I got the perfect place right here” said the Merchant

The shack the merchant was selling from was a very neat hut. It wasn’t much different from what you would image a clean “early 2000s video store” would look like. Jack said, “the walls were shiny and transparent, with a crystal counter-top finish”. He walked Jack into the middle of the tent and forced him to leave the cow outside. The man gave Jack a little brown sac with a tiny image of a sunflower imprinted on the side of it. The merchant said:

“Go home and wait three days, plant a bean each day and then climb to the top, it will take you to the future”!

“Do you think I am stupid, sir?” said Jack

“No, I think you are dumb.” Said the merchant

“Well, your god-damn right, and I am taking those future beans with me.” Said Jack

Jack left with the brown little sac, with the sunflower on the side of it which was filled with 3 future beans. The man told him to go home and plant a seed every day for exactly three days. Then, on the third day he would be able to climb the bean stock into the future. When he got home to his mother and explained the situation of what happened she was shocked! She ripped Jack a new “you know what” and went off on him, complaining that he was a mess up, that he would never be a good grower. She was upset at herself too, it was a huge jumble. Meanwhile, the clouds outside were starting to roar. Jack ignored his mother and avoided the weather as much as he could. He did what the merchant told him to do, he planted for three days, one seed a day.

A storm and the stock When Jack woke up on the third day, his mouth dropped to the floor. There was a bean stock taller than any mountains he had ever seen. This girthy, green, vine covered, machine of nature looking thing was flourishing from the ground-up with giant leaves, smooth creepers and soft shrubs. When he told his mother that he was going to climb to the top, she almost had a heart attack. “MOM, I’m going to the top of the bean stock, I’ll be back in a couple of days!” yelled Jack

“OH, HELL NO, you are not going anywhere near that bean stock, plus there is a storm coming, Jack! What about the livestock? What about the plants? We need to find shelter.” Said Mom

“You need to find shelter because I am climbing that bean stock. You told me to make us some extra cash, right? Well, If I go to the future then maybe I can find us something to sell back here”. Said Jack

“I can’t lose you too, Jack, please. I don’t want to lose you like I lost your father” tearing mother. Half-heartedly, while holding back a tear Jack replied with: “Don’t worry mom, there won’t be any oxen in the future, I’ll be fine”.

*Jack and his mom hug it out*

While leaving for the bean-stock Jack could only ponder one thing: he was confused on why his mother brought up his dad? She normally doesn’t do that. Jack’s mom is really reluctant when talking about him. She thinks that it was her fault he passed away. The only other time that she’ll ever address him is on Jack’s birthday. That is only because Jack asks her too. Someone told Jack that his mother was really busy that morning, since the neighbor ladies dropped their children off. She would normally be sitting and watch the children play, while having a great view of her husband, the livestock and crops. One of the neighbor kids ran off and she had to chase after them.

Next thing Jack knew, he heard his mother screaming and yelling for him to go get help. She didn’t come downstairs for almost five weeks. That is why Jack is so eager to get to the top of this bean stock. Jack needs to find a fix; He need to help his mother!

Climbing the bean stock was a challenge for Jack at first, but after he found his rhythm it became like second nature to him. He started swinging from vines, hanging from branches, and even dancing on leaves. The storm wasn’t much help with its harsh rain, cold breeze, and fierce noises. It was very distracting for Jack, but he kept chugging along, getting closer and closer to the dark grey clouds he once was frightened by. He needed to keep pushing forward and make it past his fears in order to help his mom out. Finally, he reached the top of the clouds.

City of 3099 The city of 3099 is modeled after what a daytime Gotham City would look like, but grungier. Like a scruffier Brooklyn or Queens of New York. It was a modern civilization for Jack, but normal society for everyone else. But normal wasn’t normal, meaning that there were bars coming from the sides of building, with flying cars travel up and down, side to side, in-between buildings and bridges. People were walking with animal people, alien type people, and robotic people. Animals were walking people! Jack was dumbfounded, shellshocked, and the first thing that came on his mind was food. There were “fast food” delivery trucks, where a machine would scan somebodies face and it would immediately know their “go-to meal”. Jack wasn’t too keen about this idea,

so instead he went to a local bar down the city drain hole he popped up from. It was a small joint, looked kind of cozy and homey, so Jack walked in.

The Tavern There wasn’t much action going on in the bar, there were a few animal people drinking from bowls in the corner, some normal looking humans/robot people playing darts, but instead of throwing at a dart board, they threw at a tied-up convict. They were missing on purpose, poking the poor old man in the stomach with 2” darts. Other than that, nothing out of the ordinary. Jack took a seat at the actual bar and asked for a water.

“May I get a water, mama?” – Jack *man, places hand on shoulder* “Make it two and throw a Cremo Lite on the side for me”. – mystery man

“What’s your deal man. Get your arm off my shoulder”. – Jack

“I noticed you walking in, all I want to do is have a chat with you. I know why you came here; I know about the farm Jack”. – mystery man

“How do you know my name”? – Jack

“Let’s go chat, kid” – mystery man

Returning Home After Jack’s chat with the mystery man, he needed to get home immediately. He needed to go see his mother before it was too late. Jack rushed back to the manhole, where he had to forcefully open it back up and climb down the bean-stock. Halfway down Jack noticed a bunch of figures leaving his home. He screamed:

“HEY, GET AWAY FROM THERE!” – Jack

But no good, they could not hear his faint screams in the distance that was so far away. When he finally reached the bottom of the bean stock, he rushed home. He was tired from the climb down and wanted to catch his breath, but he couldn’t. He saw those people leave his home when he was about halfway down the bean stock. Meaning that they are more than likely long gone, and he needs to check up on his mother. When he finally got home, Jack slammed the door wide open to see his mother’s cheerful expression but was quickly disappointed when he opened the door and found no one there. Not even a single animal was on the farm.

“Where is everybody” – Jack

PART B: REVISED DRAFTS •

Number 1: The Cursed Notebook It was the start of November, the trees were different colors, the air was harsh, and the

weather was gloomy. The atmosphere shifted, darken days were coming. Most days felt repetitive since winter was creeping up on them. At least, Kent thought that way because he hated winter. Kent was an inspired writer who had produced many reputable pieces who mainly wrote for his girlfriend, who was stationed overseas in the military. Until one day, Kent bought a mysterious notebook that changed his life. Kent rises before the sun even has a chance. His girlfriend was military, so early was a normal ritual for the both of them. Kent enjoys the rise and shine lifestyle; it allows him to start his agenda for the day. Normally, he would take the dog for a walk or go on cute dates with his girl, but recently he’s had more time to write. The New York Short Story Club reached out to Kent and asked if he would write a piece for December. Kent replied with lovely colors, but didn’t realize the slump he would find himself to be in. He wasn’t able to complete the story because of some character development issues. Kent was worried that the NYSSC wouldn’t enjoy his story. He searched and typed, ripping out pages and pages of notebook paper. Eventually, he ran out of paper, so Kent left for the walk-in market down the street. The air was sharp and cold, ripping into Kent’s face. The market was only a few blocks from their apartment, but it felt like miles. Kent never liked winter because of the temperature mainly, but he also hated how grey and depressing it felt. Kent grew up on the west coast of Nevada, where it never snowed and was always dry. Kent pushed the market’s door open and

was immediately flooded with warm air against his face. Kent sighed and under his breath he said, “Feels like home.” The only thing Kent looked for was a new notebook. He normally types all of his work, but once in a while, Kent goes back and forth. Kent once said, “The jumps between paper and keyboard allows my hands to not only flow differently, but let’s my mind flow differently too”. He purchased some notebook and left. The journey home was worse than the way there; the snow was heavier, and Kent could hardly see anything. Rushed home to check on Cherry, their dog, Kent managed to slip on a patch of ice and hit his head! Discombobulated and stunned, somehow, he managed to make it home. After Kent made it home safely, he fell asleep since his head hurt. When Kent awoke from his slumber, he felt rejuvenated. Kent had ideas for his character’s development; he could picture the descriptions for all of them. He found the notebook and started to write. He was flying through pages, describing a few side characters that needed touch-ups, and other characters that needed different dialogues. Kent was on top of the ball, the big issue Kent was having was the main character’s details. He settled with a tall leaner man named Carl who worked as an electrician, with a deep voice and dark skin. Kent was so relieved that he finished his story, not only for himself, but for NYSSC. He went downstairs to relax. As walking to the kitchen, there was a loud noise from the hallway, Kent rushed to see what happened. Kent opened the door with confusion. There was a slim black man wrestling with a skinny white guy at the end of the hall. Kent hurried and broke up the rumble. He was yelling “What’s the problem?” and “Stop fighting you idiots!” After the two got separated, they continued to yell and argue amongst each other. Kent’s expression went blank for a second, he wasn’t sure how to react. The fitter black man was dressed as an electrician, with the name tag Carl. He fit Kent’s story description perfectly! Kent pondered for a minute, thinking maybe he 26

hit his head a little too hard on the ice. However, Kent invited Carl into his home because he was curious. As they were talking, Kent picked up on certain cues Carl made. Some were simple like where Carl was from and what his past was like. It was like someone copied and pasted Carl from the notebook. After Carl left, Kent immediately rushed to the notebook and began editing another character. The second character Kent wrote about was a young boy named Caleb, who needed to get home. The kid was lost and very cold due to whatever Kent wrote about. When Kent wrote him in the notebook, he made sure to add specific details that only he would understand. He made Caleb a certain height, weight, and even blood type. 20 minutes passed, and nothing had happened. Kent was pacing through the apartment, waiting for a call, knock, anything! He waited a couple hours and eventually started to disbelieve the idea of a “magic” notebook. It wasn’t until Kent got in bed for the night that he heard the doorbell ring. He ran towards the door and swung it open. Standing there was a shivering young boy. Kent with excitement, jumped and invited the young boy in. He immediately grabbed him warm towels and clean clothes. (none of the clothes fit, but whatever.) He asked the kid what his name was, the kid replied with Caleb. Kent asked him all sorts of questions. After they finished their conversation, Kent called the police, so they’d take Caleb to find his parents. Kent could not believe himself; he had an actually magic notebook. Anything he wrote about came to life, so he kept writing. For the entire week, Kent continued to make up fictional characters, testing the notebook. He needed more information about it. He wasn’t sure of all the restrictions, wondering how accurate this notebook could really be. Every new character would get a little more detailed, either their clothes, thoughts, or personality. Until Kent found out that it only allowed him three fictional characters a day. He had unlimited wishes basically. The next morning Kent got a 27

knock on his door. A military officer was standing there with a letter. It was addressed to Kent. It was a notice of decease; Kent’s girlfriend was killed in the line of duty. He closed the door and began to cry; he immediately collapsed with sadness and depressed thoughts. Shocked and confused on how this was possible; Kent thought his entire future was gone because they promised each other so much. He wanted to propose to her and have a family, but now Kent couldn’t believe it. After a few hours of sorrow, an idea sprung into Kent’s head. Kent was unsure of what might happen but only wanted to see his baby again. He grabbed his notebook and wrote down the most accurate description of Maria he could possibly think of, her memories, her face, what she sounded like, etc. Twenty minutes later, there was a knock on the door. When Kent opened the door, his face flooded with emotions. The girl standing outside of his apartment was Maria, or what looked like her. Kent grabbed her and gave her the longest and hardest hug; tears wouldn’t stop. They talked and laughed the entire night. Kent quickly forgot about the notebook, since he spent all his time with her. A few days after the new Maria arrived, Kent noticed something odd. He felt that Maria acted strange or misplaced. She would start to “glitch” on her words and actions. It got so bad that she started to break things in the apartment. Kent assumed this was a side effect for being around him for too long. Since every other character met and left him, Maria was the first one to stay longer than a few hours. Maria lost control of her emotions, body, and entirely her soul. Maria wasn’t Maria, the person living with Kent was an animal, a demon from that cursed notebook. Kent didn’t think twice, he ran for the notebook to destroy it, however, Maria noticed what he was after. Kent dodged as many attacks as possible. When he finally found the notebook, Kent started to feel light-headed. He was dazed and confused, when he looked down, there was a good amount of blood on the floor from Maria’s attacks earlier. He needed to act 28

quickly, but by the time he found a lighter, Maria was standing right in front of him. Kent tried to burn the notebook, but Maria didn’t let him, she stabbed him right through the chest. Kent crumpled to the floor. “Wake up Kent, you have a visitor.” – Doctor “Where am I”? – Kent “You’re at the hospital silly”. – Doctor “Why am I at the hospital Doc”? – Kent “Well, someone found you lying in the middle of the street with a big gash in your head. If they didn’t call 9-1-1 after you hit your head on that patch of ice, then you might’ve been dead, but let’s not talk about that, you have a visitor” – Doctor “Who is it”? – Kent Maria walked through the door.

•

Number 2 Jack and the 3099 Bean Stock It was a very gloomy afternoon in the United Kingdom. The mid-September breeze

usually allowed for an array of sunshine, but recently there’d been an abundance of extra grey clouds roaming around. Jack noticed how the dreary and dumpy weather unsettled the animals, but there was nothing he could do. Jack was an ordinary teenager, who took care of his mother and the livestock on their farm. Jack’s father passed away while he was just a little boy, his mother says he was killed in a farming accident, but Jack like to think he left town and is still out there. Jack’s mother, Theresa, is a sweet-scary woman and she always knew what was best, like most mothers do. She even told Jack that the clouds were roaming for a reason.

“There is going to be a very bad storm in the next few days!” “We need to start boarding up the house!” - Theresa

She told Jack to take a cow to the market, to sell, before the storm hits them. So, the next morning, Jack left his mom and the dinky little farmhouse for the market. Little did he realize that the deal he was going to make for the cow would lead him into an entirely different world.

The Square The market was only a few miles away from Jack’s house, but if he wasn’t warful, then he would have missed it. The town is very small, there are only a few hundred people who live there and a couple of them were at the market. When he got to the middle of town-square, there were dozens of shops open. Ranging from food, weapons, to even different chastity belts sizes. Jack was shellshocked and super excited! He had never been to the market alone before, though the atmosphere didn’t feel alive. It wasn’t what Jack anticipated, however, with an open mind on what to get, he was happy to be there. Plus, Jack needed some fresh air, away from his mother. She had been annoying him lately, telling him that he should talk to more girls or that he needs to focus more on planting rather than the livestock. How ridiculous he thought!

“Why would I need to grow food, when I can just buy it? I know, it’s almost laughable, but what would you know about laughing, you are just a cow.” - Jack

Nodding its head, the cow said Moo.

“Excuse me! Sir! Do you know where I could find a place to sell my cow?” - Jack

“MOO!” - the cow

*Random guy places hand on Jack’s shoulder

“Of course, I do kid, I got the perfect place right in here.” - the Merchant

“What? This crappy little hut holds cows?” - Jack confusedly

“No, you moron! Just leave the cow here and follow me.” - the annoyed Merchant

The shack the merchant was selling from was a very neat hut. Neater on the inside than the outside. It wasn’t much different from what you would image a clean “early 2000s video store” would look like. Jack said, “the walls are so shiny and transparent, with a crystal countertop finish.” The merchant walked Jack into the middle of the tent and told him to sit down. Then, the man gave Jack a little brown sac with a tiny image of something Jack had never seen before. Jack asked the man what that “image” was on the bag. The merchant responded with “it’s a rocket-ship.” “What’s a rocket-ship?” Jack asked. The merchant slowly leaned up to Jack’s ear and whispered, “it’s from the future.”

“THE FUTURE!” - Jack

“QUIET!” - the Merchant

“Go home and plant a bean each day for 3 days. Then climb to the top of the bean stock, it will take you to the future!”

“Do you think I am stupid?” - Jack

“No, I think you’re dumb.” - the merchant

“Well, your god-damn right, and I am taking those future beans with me, you can have the cow.” - Jack confidently (sad quiet moo in the background)

Jack left for home with the brown little sac, no cash and no more cow. He was amped to get back to show his mom and see her reaction. When Jack got home and explained the situation of what happened his mother was furious at him!

“Why are you yelling at me mom!” “I did what you said to do, I went to the market.” Jack

“NO, I said to get money.” “Why did you get “future beans” and who sold them to you?” “I should go kick their ass.” - a concerned mother

“A merchant from the square said to go home and plant one seed every day for three days. Then, on the third day, the bean-stock will be large enough for me to climb to the future!” “Isn’t that great!” - an ecstatic Jack

Finally, she had enough and told Jack he was “DUMBER THAN COW SHIT!” and walked away. Jack pursued after her to tell her more about the beans. Meanwhile, while Jack and his mom were beating heads, the clouds were starting to roar. Jack dropped everything and did what the merchant said to do and planted the first bean before the storm. Jack planted for two more days and when he woke up on the third day, his mouth dropped to the floor. A storm and a stock Outside the house stood the girthiest, the tallest, and the healthiest bean stock Jack had laid eyes on. This green, vine covered, machine of nature looking thing was flourishing from the ground-up with giant leaves, smooth creepers and soft shrubs.

“This is taller than any mountain I have ever seen.” “MMMOOOMMM!” – Jack

“HOLY SHIT!” – yelled Theresa 34

“I told you, ha-ha!” – Jack

When he told his mother that he was going to climb towards the top, she almost had a heart attack. She told him hell no and that he needed to stay and help her board up the house again. They needed to find more wooden panels since the first storm blew some away.

“You need to get more panels because I am climbing that bean stock. You told me to make us some extra cash, right? Well, if I go to the future then maybe I can find us something to sell back here.” – confident Jack

Pause

“Mom, why are you crying?” “Are you hurt?” – Jack

“I don’t want to lose you too” “I can’t lose you like I lost him 12 years ago.” “Please Jack, please don’t leave!” – crying mother

Half-heartedly, while choking back a few tears Jack replied with: 35

“Mom look at me, I promise that I will return.” “When I do, we can leave this shitty life and start over”. – Jack

“You promise?” – Theresa

“Yes. I promise.” - Jack

Jack walked his mother back to their house and packed his things. All he was taking was the empty sac that carried the beans, a little bit of water and a knife that his dad gave to him while he was still a kid. While leaving for the bean-stock Jack only ponder one thing: why was his mother so heartbroken? Jack wondered if she really was upset by him leaving or if it was something else? Then he remembered, the date tomorrow was the 19th, dad went missing 12 years ago tomorrow.

“That’s why she didn’t want me to leave” “I’m such an idiot” – Jack

In order to make Theresa feel better Jack needed to find a fix of some sort, he needed to help his mother! That is why Jack was so eager to get to the top of the bean stock the moment he

laid eyes on it. Climbing the bean stock was a challenge for Jack, but once he found his rhythm it became like a baby screaming, second nature. He started swinging from vines, hanging from branches, and even dancing on leaves. He did need to hurry however, there was another storm in the distance. Jack kept chugging along, getting closer and closer toward the dark grey clouds he once was afraid of. Finally, he reached the top. City of 3099 The city of 3099 was structured a bit differently than Jack’s present world. It was much more energized than what Jack expected. There were so many beautiful buildings, neon lights, and a bunch of rocket-ships zooming around. Jack had the biggest smile on his face. He had never experienced anything like this before. The town looked like something out of spiderman 2099 or even a Cowboy Bebop city, which looks like a hi-tech Brooklyn or Queens of New York City. It was a modern civilization for Jack, but normal society for everyone else, however normal wasn’t normal. There were bars coming from the sides of building, flying cars traveling up and down, side to side, in-between buildings and bridges. People were walking with animal people, alien people, and even robotic people. Jack was dumbfounded, shellshocked, and the first thing that came on his mind was food.

“Who knew traveling to the future would make me so hungry.” – Jack

There were “fast food” delivery trucks, where a machine would scan their face and it would immediately know their “go-to meal”.

“What the hell is fast food.” – Jack

Jack wasn’t too keen about that idea, so instead he decided to explore the city a bit more. Not even 5 minutes of Jack walking down the street he was stopped by some authority figure. The cat like human officer asked Jack if he could see his I.D. and Jack responded by walking away casually. The authority figure got mad and asked him again, but this time he grabbed Jack’s shoulder.

‘Let me see your I.D son.” – Cat Cop

“I don’t know what that means, and I am not your son.” – Jack

“Identification, let me see your VERS papers.” – Cat cop

“My who in the what now?” – confused Jack

“Your virtual emergency riting signature.” – Cat Cop

“Doesn’t write start with a W not an R?” – even more confused Jack

“We changed the English grammar almost 300 years ago kid, where are you from?” – Cat Cop Jack started to get a little nervous because he still needed to find something to take home, he was hungry as hell and had officer furball on his ass. Jack was cornered. There were only two options he could think of; either to comply with the pussycat or run like hell. So, Jack did the smart thing and ran like hell away from the cat cop until he lost him through the back allies. It wasn’t until Jack caught his breathe and saw the giant flashing “wanted sign” with a video/picture of him.

“Great, the first 30 minutes I’ve been here I am already a fugitive. Maybe mom was right, I should have never climbed that bean stock.” – discouraged Jack

Jack’s heart dropped for a second, he was discouraged, tired, and most of all hungry. Jack made his way into this traditional style tavern to find himself some grub. Maybe he could trade his knife for a diet coke?

The Tavern There wasn’t much action going on in the bar, there were a few animal people drinking from bowls in the corner, some normal looking humans/robot people playing darts, but instead of throwing at a dart board, they threw at a tied-up convict. They were missing on purpose, puncturing the murder in the stomach with 2-inch dart tips. Other than that, nothing out of the ordinary. Jack took a seat at the actual bar and asked for a whatever a diet coke was.

“May I get a diet coke?” – Jack

Man, places hand on shoulder

“Make it two and throw a Cremo Lite on the side for me.” – Mystery man

“What’s your deal! And get your hand off my shoulder.” – Jack

“I noticed you walking in.” – Mystery man

“Oh yeah? And did you like what you saw, pervert.” – Jack

“Hey, all I want to do is chat. I know why you came here”

Pause

“I know about the farm Jack!” – mystery man

Jack spits diet coke out onto the mystery man’s face and yells.

“HOLY SHIT! This diet csoke is amazing!” “Wait, how do you know my name”? – frightened Jack

“Let’s go chat, kid” – mystery man wiping his face

Jack and the mystery man left their diet cokes and Cremo Lite on the bar top and walked towards a room in the back. Jack was a little frightened since the man was a larger gentleman, and he was in the future he didn’t know. So, he held his knife closely while entering the room.

The heart-to-heart Jack walked into the back room and noticed nothing out of the ordinary, it was like he was back home. The inside of this room looked exactly like his house, Jack had a crazy thought, but he didn’t want to ask the man yet. Jack took a seat and the man started speaking.

“Before you ask, no I am not your father.” – Mystery man

“Son of a bitch! Ha-Ha, how did you know I was thinking that.” – Jack

“Because I use to work with your father, here at this tavern. You look just like him.” – Mystery man “Used to? He picked up and left you guys too, typical.” – Jack

“No, your father is in on a job and won’t be back for a few weeks.” – Mystery man

“Job, what kind of job? Who the hell are you and where’s my dad!” - Jack

“My name is Tratto and I work for your father. I am his apprentice.” – Tratto

“Apprentice of what? – Jack

There was a sudden loud explosion noise coming from the tavern. Jack could hear some faint chatter, but nothing more. A machine with a bunch of numbers buzzed and Tratto talked into it.

“Hey, Tratto, we got some group up here by the name LA Cross? They said there here for a kid named Jack. They have a wanted poster of him, but I don’t know what to tell them since I haven’t seen no kid.” – Bar women

“I’ll be right up.” – Tratto

Tratto hung up the machine thing he was talking into and told Jack that he needed to slip out the back exist and go home. He wasn’t able to answer anymore of Jack’s questions, the only piece of help he could do for Jack was give him three more future beans, so if he ever needed to come back, he could.

“Here, take these, three more future beans. Hurry home and find your mother.” – Tratto

“Why do I need to hurry home?” – Jack

“These guys in front are the most brutal bandits in the entire City of 3099. You don’t mess with LA Cross.” – Tratto

“So, there that much trouble?” – Jack

“Jesus kid, you really are Mark’s son. Yes, you need to leave and go home! Go protect your mother! – Tratto

“Can I get one of those ringing box-machines before I leave? – Jack

“You mean a phone?” – Tratto

Tratto tossed Jack a small phone, conveniently enough, it fit perfectly in his pocket. He thought “how snazzy.” At this moment the noise in the bar was starting to pick up. Jack could here glass breaking and people screaming. Tratto told Jack one last time before he rushed up front. 44

“If you need to ever come back, use the three future beans or find my name in your phone and don’t lose it either. That wass a gift from your dad to me.” – Tratto

Jack thanked Tratto and snuck out from the back. He was happy that he met someone that was super close to his dad. He still had a whole bunch of questions, but now that he had a cellphone and three more future beans Jack felt back on top. He was more concerned about his mother though. Jack had a bad feeling about going home. Returning Home After Jack’s chat with the Tratto, he rushed for the manhole he come up from. Running past people, animal people, and robots. Jack didn’t care what was happening at the tavern anymore. Obviously, he wanted Tratto to be safe and survive, but for some odd reason he knew that Tratto was going to be fine. Jack wasn’t sure what line of work they did, but he had this gut feeling it was something badass. Jack ran faster and faster and finally made it to the manhole. Luckily, the hole was still open since there was a giant bean stock poking from it. Jack was speeding down the bean stock faster than he climbed up it. Halfway down the bean stock Jack froze for a second and noticed a bunch of figures leaving his home. Jack wasn’t sure who those people were or what they were doing at his house. Then he remembered what Tratto said. He needed to get home and protect his mother, but why? Jack thinks that maybe the LA Cross gang found out how to come to his world and kidnapped his mother! It would be possible he supposed. He rushed even quicker towards the bottom screaming and shouting:

“HEY, GET AWAY FROM THERE!” – Jack

But no good, the figures were too far away and could not hear Jack’s faint screams. When he finally reached the bottom of the bean stock, he darted home. He was tired from the climb down, but he couldn’t stop. He saw those people leave his home when he was about halfway down the bean stock. Meaning that they would more than likely already be long gone before Jack gets home. Jack didn’t want to lose another parent. When he finally got home, he was quickly disappointed seeing no one was there. It was completely empty. Not even a single animal was on the farm.

“Mom?” – Jack

SECTION 3: POETRY •

Sample: 3-5 poems (of any length and style)

•

Word Count Section: o o

Rough Drafts: 187 Revised Drafts: 196 PART A: ROUGH DRAFTS

•

Number 1: Space Cowboy Something we can’t change Something we can’t predict Something no one knows about

We can change ourselves We can predict our actions We know a lot about each other

Learn and grow from the past Stay in the moment with the present Don’t stress about the future

Whatever happens, happens

â&#x20AC;˘

Number 2: Deku

To be a hero Hard work and Dedication Smile at those you save

â&#x20AC;˘

Number 3: Hero To be a hero one must be delightful To be a hero one must be energetic To be a hero one must be kind To be a hero one must be universal To be a hero one must be strong To be a hero one must be honest To be a hero one must be obedient To be a hero one must be training To be a hero one must be observant To be a hero one must be bodacious To be a hero one must be adventurous To be a hero one must be knightly To be a hero one must be umbrageous To be a hero one must be generous To be a hero one must be optimistic

PART B: REV ISED DRAFTS •

Number 1: Space Cowboy

Something we cannot change, it’s something we are a part of, Something no one knows about.

We can change our lives, By representing our actions. And we know a ton about each other.

So please, learn and grow from the past, Stay in the moment with the present, And don’t stress about the future.

Whatever happens, happens.

â&#x20AC;˘

Number 2: Deku

A hero should be, A hard worker, who smiles wide. At the oneâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s they save.

â&#x20AC;˘

SECTION 4: A SELF-REFLEC TION ESSAY: As we are approaching the end of the semester, we turn to our finals. So, here are some commonly asked questions to summarize my e-portfolio project. Asking for answers from the perspective of an interviewer, or as if we were a famous author or something. Basically, interview questions to some certain degree and I tried answering them 100% honestly and completely, meaning I think that the answers are unpretentious responses from me, so I hope you enjoy. •

How did you approach the creation and revision of your work? (You may consider commenting on why you arranged your writing the way you did.)

A lot of my inspiration comes from different types of anime, to be honest. As I’ve said in the past, I really enjoy watching it, I have some posters and there are decent clothing brands now that sell some kickass stuff. Furthermore, there’s tons of genres in anime, you just have to look for what you like and figure out what you don’t like. As everything in life should be, life is about doing your own thing and figuring yourself out. As I was writing, I knew what I would want to do with the stories. I related a lot of my writings with specific animes that I enjoyed at the time. Drawing inspiration in from social media, talking with other people, and even hearing different types of music. People have created this type of music called “lofi” and there are a lot of anime reference in certain songs, so sometimes that will be inspiring. That inspiration allows me to twist and turn certain stories, using different characters or themes, but still giving homage to my favorite writers/pieces. I’m not trying to copy or steal, I just think that some of the stories are amazing and I want to create my own fib from it and expose more people to it. If you like my rendition of say, “The Cursed Notebook” or my poem “Space Cowboy”, you’d probably enjoy the originals much better. A.K.A the animes. Revising for myself was easy in a way, since I knew what I was talking about. Revising with others was a bit tough, since the majority of people didn’t know what I was talking about. What I mean was, since I wrote a lot with anime, not a lot of people got the deeper meaning, or hidden messages in the stories. No one knew that I was giving homage or respect to them or nobody said anything at least. Saying that, I could have written about more relatable topics, but I feel like that would have made me less passionate about certain pieces or not as motivated to 51

write them and that is deadass. If you aren’t passionate about something, or not motivated, it is really hard to do anything, especially forcing yourself to write, that’s the worst. However, the majority of the time, revising is more than just knowing about the topic, rather giving feedback and advising the writing in a helpful manner. All my groups were amazing and helped so much, even when they didn’t really understand what I might have been writing about. Revising for myself, I would write my stuff out and do my own edits before turning it in. After getting my feedback, I would go over it and just leave my computer and go do something. I would let the advice soak in and bounce around in my brain, playing with it, seeing what I could create from it. Eventually, I would go back and use what I thought about, slowly fixing my pieces. Until my stories sounded more fluent and correct. Then rinse and repeat, until “perfect” or satisfied. •

Which themes do you focus on in each (or all) of the genres, and what is your ultimate purpose for focusing on them?

If anime is a theme, then probably that. Which is funny because every anime has a different meaning behind it or bigger picture. For me, like I said, I bring inspiration in from different animes and their themes. Ranging from “what does it mean to be a hero, family and friendship, or don’t try to be judgmental. But on another note, when I write I just like the concept of endless possibilities. Whenever we read, our brains create an image/movie in our brains and that is amazing to me. I think that makes sense; we have the capability to give people pleasure from what? Words on a page my guy! Books, journals and stories are a free mini vacation and I personally don’t think enough people take advantage of it.

•

Which elements of literature do you experiment most with in your work? Why or to what purpose?

Usually there is characterization or an antagonist, protagonist type deal in my stories. A lot of my writing is related to more of a nerdy person I believe. I like superhero’s, movies, different video games. Call me a weeb, but when I write, I love it and it is comforting/relaxing. I will experiment with basically any style or element of writing. Obviously, I have my preferred style,

as I stated above, but you never know. Your true preferred style could be one that you haven’t tried yet. •

How do you see your writing developing? Have you discovered anything about the genres that surprised you? What might be new things you’d like to incorporate in your writing after the term has ended?

Honestly, before this class I would jot down little skits or funny moments I experienced onto my phone and this class has motivated me. So, over break I will be working on some of the skits and expanding upon them. A lot of them are more adult-ish if that makes sense, not saying that our writing styles in class weren’t mature, but in my skits or whatever the humor might be offensive to some people, so I rather not share them right away. However, this was the first writing class where I was able to curse or say “curse words” which is an entirely different story on its own, but that made it more enjoyable and easier to write. Another thing is that the opportunities we have are endless. We were mainly poetry, fiction, and creative non-fiction; meaning made up or based off a true story, no evidence or proof needed, all off the dome. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind non-fiction work because I love to learn, but writing it is so demanding. There are so many guidelines you must follow, so this class allowed me to realize how much I love writing creative non-fiction and fiction, with some poetry. Lastly, please whoever sees and reads these, don’t be mad/offended or upset by any of my pieces, remember that they are just my opinions and ideas. Thank you for reading my stories and thank you for the feedback (if given). Enjoy the rest of your day.