Tonight, I Will Write the Wrongs
Block 1 Fall Semester 2018-19 Mills
Kayla
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Table of Contents: 3.
Author’s Forward
5.
Work of Nonfiction
8.
Work of Fiction
10.
Work of Micro Fiction/Flash Fiction
11.
Work of Micro Fiction/Flash Fiction
12.
Formal Poems
13.
Free Verse Poems
16.
Author’s Notes
Author’s Forward: One writing strategy that we explored throughout the semester was a setting 2
exercise. This exercised focused on making sure my writing included all 5 senses. My personal example looks like this: red for sight, purple for sound, green for touch, orange for smell, and blue for taste The Beach The sand squishes between my toes before the sand becomes hard and water runs up to my ankles. It’s cold as ice but ever so refreshing on the hot summer morning. The sun barely risen, already starting to heat the sand and everything around me. I can predict that today is going to be cloudless with clear bright blue skies above. As the waves crash harshly onto the shore, the smell of salt becomes unmistakably clear. The smell of hotdogs and hamburgers cooking above the small fire becomes evident around me. The seagulls seem to smell what is cooking below them because they begin to hover over us annoyingly. They make their obnoxious seagull noises, hoping we’ll give in and give them what they want. This exercise made me realize in order to create a better story, I needed to include more senses and to not have so many of certain ones. It was very eye opening because it made me understand how important it is to have a balance of the five senses to create a stronger story for when someone reads it. Another technique we explored was how to create work of fiction. This exercise taught us how to include a vivid setting into a work of fiction. My example is: The house is scary. It wasn’t the stereotypical horrifying looking mansion. It was small, cramped, dark, and contained one lonely old lady living inside. Her silver short hair stood out against her pale skin from always being inside the house. The dark red double doors to the house never opened. The windows framed by dark blue shutters never were lifted. The dead grass in the yard was surrounded by things thrown into the yard by bypassers who thought no one lived in the gloomy house. This exercise was done after choosing one sentence such as “The house was scary” and creating a vivid setting. It was teaching us how to execute the practice of imagery in a story. A third technique we learned was creating an antagonist. Learning how to create an antagonist I learned they keep the protagonist from receiving what he or she wants. My example of creating an antagonist is: Meredith had noticed someone watching her a few times but did not think anything of it. The footsteps that were behind her grew louder and gave her chills up and down her body. Having enough of whatever joke was being pulled on her she whipped her head around, startling the young man walking close behind her. “Can I help you?” she blurted His face grew bright red. Meredith noticed he looked on the young side, possibly the same age as her. She took notice to his appearance, he was cute and looked 3
harmless to her. She shot him a questionable look, still waiting for an answer. “Um. I’m sorry. I wasn’t following you I swear,” his eyes darted around everything except her, he continued “my bus stop is on the way and I noticed you were walking alone and it’s dark out so I stayed close... just in case.” “In case of what? I don’t even know you,” Meredith said. “But you do know me.” This example exhibits the creation of an antagonist in a story. Here, I introduced the antagonist as being a little creepy and mysterious. This strategy taught us how to develop an antagonist throughout stories. My favorite piece of writing was the personal narrative we wrote. This was my favorite because we got to tell a personal story of our own and share it with each other. I wrote about an experience that changed my life and it was my most fun thing I had written for this class. One of the more difficult things I had to write for the class was some of the poems we had to write such as the petrarchan sonnet because I had to follow a specific scheme and could not freely write what I wanted to, which is one of the things I struggle with being able to do. Being told how to write something is difficult to complete for me and this was a simple struggle I had. The major assignments throughout this class helped me grow as a writer because it opened my eyes to many new techniques and ways to write. Having workshops helped me take criticism from other people and not get offended and realize they are trying to help me become better. As a writer, I expanded my knowledge of ways to write such as works of mircofictions and short stories.
Work of Nonfiction Personal Narrative There are many feelings that people say are the best feelings in the world. Traveling to new places, falling in love, sand between toes, but one that I experienced was seeing my favorite artist in the flesh. While not everyone could agree seeing their favorite band or singer in concert is something amazing, I vouch for the fact that it is. From watching videos, seeing pictures, hearing it through
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earbuds, I went to having my eyes on him in person. Khalid (Kuh-Leed) is a singer, mastermind, fanboy, performer, but mostly, he is amazing. At 18 he became known the world as the singer who rose to fame, who wrote an album with no features, and has collected many awards in the last two years. Shoulder to shoulder. Feet stepping on feet. No breathing room. At the Lincoln Financial field on May 25, 2018 Khalid performed live in concert for hundreds of people. I was lucky enough to be one of those people. After years of listening to him through speakers on the radio, he was right in front of me on stage. Although being in such a packed area with so many people was uncomfortable and claustrophobic, it wasn’t a night I would take back for anything. The concert was on a pier that outlooked a beautiful scene. The stage on one side and the pier on the other, not only made the night even more amazing, but it put a great vibe into everyone that night. I could barely see the cement under our feet that was trying to peek out every time someone moved their foot. The sun was still out and shining and the clouds were perfect enough that the sun still shown but the heat wasn’t deadly. If the shoulder to shoulder standing wasn’t bad enough, the heat was brutal. Nothing, not even the heat, could make anyone on the pier have a bad time. My best friend and I stood so close to that stage where he was performing that night. After an anxious car ride to Philadelphia we had finally made it to the spot where he was. We got in line to get into the concert. Another anxious wait later, we walk through the tall gate that separated us from where he was getting ready somewhere. All around us girls were clinging to their boyfriends, and girls were clinging to their best friends, waiting for the night to begin. After a long while of darting up at the stage every time someone walked on it and it wasn’t him, a band that no one had heard of walked on. They were introduced as the band called Pretty Much, a boy band no one seemed to be familiar with. The boys had started their set and nobody sang along. It was like watching a comedian tell a joke and the crowd staying quiet with no laughter. Despite not knowing the songs being played, the night was still extravagant. The band opening for Khalid had finally finished, and ironically one of the songs they performed that night is now one the new top hits on the radio. Crazy. Stage managers and other people walked on the stage one after another, giving everyone a mini heart attack thinking it was Khalid walking onto the stage. The 5
crowd was becoming restless, anxiousness changed to tiredness. Feet began to kill and throats became dry. Still, nothing could the fact this would be the night I had been waiting for since December when I bought the concert tickets. The sun was gone and the summer night was in the distance, almost here. He walked out. Black pants, white shirt, black cardigan. There he was. In front of my eyes in the flesh. A person who would never know how many times I listened to his songs on repeat, how many times I imagined this night, how much his music had impacted me. But he was there, just a boy from Texas who rose above the odds and filled sold out places like that night in Philadelphia. After anxiously waiting one hundred and one days, for a little while, I experienced something amazing. His performance on stage was unlike anything I’ve experienced. He had so much energy, so much enthusiasm. His stage presence was mesmerizing. You could feel his wanting to be on that stage. His voice echoed everywhere, hearing his amazing voice surroundly. He was never dull, he was always lively. Every song he sang had hundreds of voices singing along right with him. He opened with the song “American Teen” which is also the name of his hit album. His performance was something I could never forget, no one has the same passion and enjoyment that Khalid does while being on any stage. You never know what makes a person feel amazing. It could be coming home after a long day, it can be eating their favorite meal, it could be winning a game, but for me it was being there that night. Witnessing an amazing person do an amazing thing. Having my best friend on one side of me, summer near approaching, and the most talented artist I know performing in front of my eyes. Experiences like that don’t come very often, maybe once in a lifetime, maybe a couple times. I learned to never take moments you love for granted. So, I didn’t. With a voice that was now gone, a full-filled heart, and memories to last me forever, I walked away from that pier and drove out of Philadelphia knowing nothing that I do will never make me forget the memories of May 25, 2018.
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Work of Fiction Meredith had noticed someone watching her a few times but did not think anything of it. The footsteps that were behind her grew louder and gave her chills up and down her body. Having enough of whatever joke was being pulled on her she whipped her head around, startling the young man walking close behind her. “Can I help you?” she blurted. His face grew bright red. Meredith noticed he looked on the young side, possibly the same age as her. She took notice to his appearance, he was cute and looked harmless to her. She shot him a questionable look, still waiting for an answer. “Um. I’m sorry. I wasn’t following you I swear,” his eyes darted around everything except her, he continued “my bus stop is on the way and I noticed you were walking
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alone and it’s dark out so I stayed close... just in case.” “In case of what? I don’t even know you,” Meredith said. “But you do know me.” She squinted at the boy trying to refresh her mind of his face. After he shined a quick grin at her, she realized. “Drew? Andrew? You were in my french class freshman year weren’t you?” She quickly realized how rude she must sound not comprehending who he is. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t recognize you. Did you leave our school?” “I did. And it is okay, don’t apologize, I don’t blame you for not remembering me.” “Andrew, would you mind walking me home the rest of the way? It’s not too far, a few blocks maybe.” His eyes lit up and nodded eagerly. “So why did you leave school?” “It simply wasn’t the place for me. Someone bullied me to the brink of me wanting to harm myself and my parents thought it was best if I was taken out of school,” he said ashamed. Meredith’s face fell. As they reached Meredith’s house, her older brother was standing outside awaiting her arrival. “This is Andrew. He walked me home from the shelter,” she said to her brother. Jack strudded down the stairs laughing vigorously, frightening his sister. Meredith glanced at Andrew and saw a horrid look on his face. “It’s you. From those years ago,” Andrew’s voice was light, like he could barely speak. Meredith looked up to him in horror. “Jack, is the true?” his sister asked. “Meredith, don’t tell me you like this loser. He’s from the wrong side of the tracks. He’s a snitch,” Jack teased. “That’s why you harassed me? Because I told the teacher you cheated on the test?” “You got me in a lot of trouble, little man. My parents sent me away for a summer after getting suspended and I lost their trust, all because some little freshman narked on me,” Jack’s eyes widened, “And now you’ve come back to get finished off by me, haven’t you?” Jack pulls a knife out from his pants pocket and lunges toward Andrew, but at the last second, Meredith jumped in front of him, causing Jack to stab his own sister. 8
Work of Microfiction/Flash Fiction She stood in the all too familiar waiting room of the local hospital waiting for something, anything at all. The blue walls, tile floors, and white ceiling all paint the perfect picture of hopelessness and uncertainty. Doctors and nurses walk back and forth from room to room carrying their whiteboards with stethoscopes hanging around their necks. She felt helpless, motionless, fearful. Anxiety became a constant voice in her head and doubt crept up on her every second. The lights made her head spin in different directions and her refusal to eat anything made her stomach beg continuously for food. A doctor wearing blue scrubs walks out from his room, “I’m afraid it is not as good as we had hoped.” My mother stopped her pacing and glanced at my father for him to voice the question we all had for him. As my father stood up he said, “Will he make it?” The doctor put his head down for a split second, making me feel like anything 9
he was about to say was going to turn my world upside down, again. With sadness in his voice he said, “the cancer has spread far more than we ever imagined. I’m sorry.”
Work of Microfiction/Flash Fiction #2 100 words Outside the window, white flakes made of snow fall from the clouds. With the fireplace running, hot chocolate in hands, and wrapped in blankets that feel like clouds embracing my cold body, I suspect that life could not get any better at the moment. Soon they begin to have a purpose, they fill windshields of parked cars, make the roads almost invisible, and the bare trees are no longer bare. The outdoors is beautiful, making me take in how something so simple can create a wonderland. In many ways, it almost feels too perfect, but I would not take the feeling away for anything. 50 words Outside the window, snowflakes fall. Wrapped in blankets that feel like clouds embracing my cold body, I suspect that life could not get any better at the moment. Snowflakes fill windshields of parked cars and the bare trees are no longer bare. The outdoors is beautiful. In many ways, it almost feels too perfect. 25 words Snowflakes fall. Wrapped in blankets, I suspect life could not get any better at 10
the moment. The outdoors is beautiful. In many ways, it almost feels too perfect. 12 words Snowflakes fall. Life could not get any better. Outside is beautiful in many ways. 6 words Life is beautiful in many ways.
Formal Poems Triolet Hidden He keeps his head down, Not daring to look up for anything Afraid at anytime he could breakdown, He keeps his head down Feeling rejected because he's let them down Being numb and not being able to feel a thing, He keeps his head down, Not daring to look up for anything. Imaginst Poem Girl Blue eyes that glistened in the sun, And blonde hair that shimmered in the light. Her smile could light up the darkest rooms. She danced to her music like no one was watching, She seeked adventure and got it from simple things, She jumped, yelled and cried to the beat Like nothing could bring her down, Like she did not care whose eyes were on her.
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And she could not be stopped by anyone. No one could end the happiness she was feeling. Her movements were of the utmost excellence With her white flowy dress swinging with her body. She kept herself going despite the world around her Watching with their judgemental eyes. She kept her head up and did not stop. Free Verse Poems Anxiety It’s walking with your head down in the hallway Attempting to be unseen by anyone. It’s shaking when you have to present in front of a class Hoping no one is judging you. It’s crying in the bathroom before a test Because you are afraid you will fail. It’s not being able to eat before a game Because every thought of messing up scares you. It’s the constant feeling of “Something is not right,” and “Something is wrong.” It’s a feeling that never goes away, It’s knocking on your head with every decision you attempt to make. It’s like a chip on your shoulder Nagging at every move you make. It’s Anxiety. Outside Oranges, reds, yellows, blues, The sunset is a fire Givings thousands of eyes countless views, Making everyone's heads go higher. It is endless beauty that gives hope To anyone looking for
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Someway to cope. It is an easy way for anyone to soar. It is a beacon for happiness and desire You find in the sky One of the easiest things you could admire. It gives one less reason you have to cry. Happiness When the waves crash on shore, We are in them in the bathing suits we wore. The seagulls are in the air And we tell them to go elsewhere. The sun hitting our skin Making us smile from within. Every horizon is ocean water But to us, it is not a bother. Views from sand to sky We don’t let any time tick right by. When our mind is on vacation We go somewhere we feel sensation.
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Who? All alone I sit and wait For the girl who is my date She never came to meet me, Which left me to take the tab, But only when I pay for it She showed up at my side. The waiter asked to take her order But she only looked at me, “Why Miss, why don’t I get you some tea?” She didn’t want to drink, only talk to me.
Author’s Notes Unrevised Personal Narrative There is many feelings that people say are the best feelings in the world. 14
Traveling to new places, falling in love, sand between toes, but one that I experienced was seeing my favorite artist in the flesh. While not everyone could agree seeing their favorite band or singer in concert is something amazing, I vouch for the fact that it is. From watching videos, seeing pictures, hearing it through earbuds, I went to having my eyes on him in person. Khalid (Kuh-Leed) is a singer, mastermind, fanboy, performer, but mostly, he is amazing. At 18 he became known the world as the singer who rose to fame who wrote an album with no features and has collected many awards in the last two years. Shoulder to shoulder. Feet stepping on feet. No breathing room. At the Lincoln Financial field on May 25, 2018 Khalid performed live in concert for hundreds of people. I was lucky enough to be one of those people. After years of listening to him through speakers on the radio, he was right in front of me on stage. Although being in such a packed area with so many people was uncomfortable and claustrophobic, it wasn’t a night I would take back for anything. My best friend and I stood so close to that stage where he was performing that night. After an anxious car ride to Philadelphia we had finally made it to the spot he was. We got in line to get into the concert. Another anxious wait later, we walk through the tall gate that separated us from where he was getting ready somewhere. All around us girls clung to their boyfriends, girls clung to their best friends, waiting for the night to begin. After a long while of darting up at the stage every time someone walked on it and it wasn’t him, a band that no one had heard of walked on. They were introduced as the band called Pretty Much, a boy band no one seemed to be familiar with. The boys had started their set and nobody sang along. It was like watching a comedian tell a joke and the crowd staying quiet with no laughter. Despite not knowing the songs being played, the night was still extravagant. The concert was on a pier that out looked a beautiful scene. The stage on one side and the pier on the other, not only made the night even more amazing, but it put a great vibe into everyone that night. I could barely see the cement under our feet that was trying to peek out every time someone moved their foot. The sun was still out and shining and the clouds were perfect enough that the sun still shown but the heat wasn’t deathly. If the shoulder to shoulder standing wasn’t bad enough, the heat was brutal. Nothing, not even the heat, could make anyone on the pier have a bad time. 15
The band opening for Khalid had finally finished, and ironically one of the songs they performed that night is now one the new top hits on the radio. Crazy. Stage managers and other people walked on the stage one after another, giving everyone a mini heart attack thinking it was Khalid walking onto the stage. The crowd was becoming restless, anxiousness changed to tiredness. Feet began to kill and throats became dry. Still, nothing could the fact this would be the night I had been waiting for since December when I bought the concert tickets. The sun was gone and the summer night was in the distance, almost here. He walked out. Black pants, white shirt, black cardigan. There he was. In front of my eyes in the flesh. A person who would never know how many times I listened to his songs on repeat, how many times I imagined this night, how much his music had impacted me. But he was there, just a boy from Texas who rose above the odds and filled sold out places like that night in Philadelphia. After anxiously waiting one hundred and one days, for a little while, I experienced something amazing. You never know what makes a person feel amazing. It could be coming home after a long day, it can be eating their favorite meal, it could be winning a game, but for me it was being there that night. Witnessing an amazing person do an amazing thing. Having my best friend on one side of me, summer near approaching, and the most talented artist I know performing in front of my eyes. Experiences like that don’t come very often, maybe once in a lifetime, maybe a couple times. I learned to never take moments you love for granted. So, I didn’t. With a voice that was now gone, a full-filled heart, and memories to last me forever, I walked away from that pier and drove out of Philadelphia knowing nothing that I do will never make me forget the memories of May 25, 2018. The changes that I made to this piece were crucial to the storyline because it helped make the story less confusing. Sometimes throughout the story I made it confusing by going back and forth between plot events that would further confuse the reader. To me, it made sense because I experienced it and was not confused, but for someone that has never read this, it would be confusing and hard to follow. Therefore, I made switches between parts of several paragraphs and rephrased confusing sentences. When the story was hopefully less confusing, I added more description to the story. I felt this was very important in order to get the full message across and to really have the reader understand my narrative. Because 16
this time in my life was so extraordinary, I wanted to get that point across and by adding more imagery into the work, it became even more easier to picture what was going on. I also exchanged words and phrases that were not as strong to stronger words that created a more compelling story. The stronger vocab leads to readers being more interested in reading the story, and when my story becomes more interesting, it keeps readers intrigued and wanting to read more. I deleted certain parts from this piece that I felt was unnecessary. This was able to take out extra information that could possibly cause confusion throughout the story. Overall, I left it was necessary to switch certain phrases or delete some because it made the story confusing going back and forth between plot points. Unrevised Short Story I stare out my bedroom window, watching the wind take dying leaves from trees and the little girl across the street play fetch with her dog. I anxiously wait for the text that is awaiting me. I know they’ll be sending the message soon, telling me what the next move is. I think about the little girl next door and how she has no cares in the world besides debating which Barbie she’ll play with today and what color tutu she’ll wear. Then I think about my own cares in the world, which is too many at the seventeen. After my mind has drifted onto something different, my cell phone buzzes and a message lights up the screen, saying “The deed is done. Next move, midnight. Corner of Oak Tree and Pine Street. Don’t mess this up, Jamie. Or someone you love dearly will pay for your mistake, again.” With the anxiousness gone, fear now has taken over. I fear the worse when my messenger has given me the new task. I won’t know what the “move” that I have to do is. I won’t find out until midnight when I show up for the next assignment. With my eyes still watching the outside, my mind fumbles with any possibilities that could be happening tonight. I worry about if my mom found out I’ve snuck out, but my biggest fear lingers in my head like a bad cold. If my job is to hurt somebody, I don’t think I’d ever be able to do it. My messenger usually takes care of that part, I’m like the custodian to their messes. Always cleaning up what they left behind. The anonymousness of my messenger haunts me from day to day, knowing anyone I see could be the person putting my through this hell. My mom knocks on my door and walks in. “Jamie, it’s almost three o’clock and you 17
haven’t left this room yet.” She glances around my room with a frown on her face. I know she worries about me, but I can never tell her about the messenger and the things I do. “Come and eat something, or at least just do something productive.” The irony of her sentence makes me laugh in my head. She has no idea I will be plenty productive tonight at midnight. I give her a look and say “Mom, I’m fine. I’m just tired.” I turn my head back and stare out the window. In my peripheral vision I can see her place her hands on her hips and I can feel the heat of her eyes burning a hole through my head. I don’t say anything, mostly because I don’t know what else she wants me to say, but mostly because if I speak too much something could slip about my task I’ve been told to complete tonight. I’ve been hiding this secret from her for five months. That’s also as long as I’ve been getting the texts. Five months. I’ve completed nineteen tasks that I’ve been told to do from my messenger. Tonight will be twenty. “You can’t live in your bedroom forever,” my mom says after I’ve forgotten she was standing there. “Your father and I have been talking about getting you a therapist for-” I cut her off when i murmur “He’s not my father.” I glance at her face and the look of disappointment is riveting through me. I feel guilty, but she believes she can replace my father just because she wants to and I do not believe that. “He’s not your biological father, no, but you will respect him like a father. He’s done nothing but try to help you for months.” That’s how long they’ve been married, a few months. Maybe seven? Eight? I lost track after I stopped caring that she remarried so soon after my real father’s death. After several hours of dreading what was in the night to come, I snuck out the back door and headed to the spot the messenger told me to go. They’ve been controlling me for so long, people were starting to notice something was wrong with me. I’ve tried my best to pretend like nothing has changed. I show up to school when I’m supposed to, I hang out when people when they get suspicious of my actions. My mom repeatedly asks me if I’m depressed. Must think it’s all because of my father’s death, but she doesn’t realize what else I’m going through. I walk up the Oak Tree Street and under the sign I see a note taped to it. Anxiously, I grab it. It reads “This one little task, and I’ll set you free.” I infer it means if I perform this job the way they want me to, I will be done with them for good. I can 18
only hope. A black bag is a few feet away from me and I wonder if it’s meant for me. Unsure of what to do next, I head for the bag and a voice shouts out, “Just this one little job, Jamie. And I’ll let you go.” “Who are you?” I shout back at the echoing voice. It sounded like it came from everywhere but from nowhere at the same time. “Your worst nightmare,” they respond. I can’t make out if its a man or woman, but it’s not at the top of my priorities to figure out. “I’m not afraid of you!” I lie. “Don’t be a coward! Show me who you really are!” My voice shows fear, but my mind is telling me to be the most strong I’ve ever been. I decide I want to put this to an end, and now is my chance. I’m ready to face my messenger with a strong-willed mind when the revelation of their face shocks me from head to toe. My father is standing in front of me, wearing a facial expression that will haunt me for life. During this first draft of my short story, I had many things that could have been added to create a less confusing story. Therefore, in my revised version, I added more description to the main character, “Jamie,” to give more insight to who she is and why she is such an importance to the story. Adding more description to the main character makes the story easier to understand the main character is more likely going to bond with the reader if the reader knows many things about the character. This causes the reader to possibly be more intrigued and want to keep reading the story because they can relate to the character more. Before the revision of this short story, I did not have a title, but after I revised it, I gave it a title. This little addition to the story makes a large difference because it can give a hint into what the story might be about. This can hook the reader easily from the beginning because it can interest the reader without them even reading the story. I also added more descriptive language to the scene so it can easily be imagined and create a larger sense of imagery for the reader. Adding more descriptive language also makes for a stronger story in the sense that plot points can be understood better and the reader can see the meaning behind some of the things that are in the story. Overall, the addition of descriptive language was of a large importance to create a stronger and relatable story.
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Unrevised Microfiction She stood in the all too familiar waiting room of the local hospital waiting for something, anything at all. The blue walls, tile floors, and white ceiling all paint the perfect picture of hopelessness and uncertainty. Doctors and nurses walk back and forth from room to room carrying their whiteboards with stethoscopes hanging around their necks. She felt helpless, motionless, fearful. Anxiety became a constant voice in her head and doubt crept up on her every second. The lights made her head spin in different directions and her refusal to eat anything made her stomach beg continuously for food. A doctor wearing blue scrubs walks out from his room, “I’m afraid it is not as good as we had hoped.” My mother stopped her pacing and glanced at my father for him to voice the question we all had for him. As my father stood up he said, “Will he make it?” The doctor put his head down for a split second, making me feel like anything he was about to say was going to turn my world upside down, again. With sadness in his voice he said, “the cancer has spread far more than we ever imagined. I’m sorry.” In this unrevised version of my microfiction piece, I had many things that were able to be changed to create a more powerful work. With the word limitation, it was super difficult to write a powerful and intriguing piece when I could not write everything I wanted to write about. In order to fit the word limit in my revised piece, I had to delete some words and rephrase parts of the story and continue to have them make sense. With the deletion of some main points, I had to shorten and delete some of the descriptions I had given throughout the story. This possibly caused the story to be less intriguing because there was little description about what was fully going on in the story. I kept out the description of who the boy in the story was for purposeful reasons. This was to create a more mysterious tone to the story and keep the reader intrigued and interested. The purpose was also to have the reader attempt to come up with their own thoughts on who the boy might be to the girl and who the girl might be. The deletion of some descriptive scenes also felt necessary in order to lower my word count, but to also keep the readers from getting confused as much as I could. This is not an easy task when faced with a 20
limitations on your thoughts and ideas. Overall, the lack of description was a necessity throughout the revision of my piece because it kept the confusion away and limited the overuse of words. Unrevised Imaginist Poem She danced to her music like no one was watching, She seeked adventure and got it from simple things, She jumped, yelled and cried to the beat Like nothing could bring her down, Like she did not care whose eyes were on her. And she could not be stopped by anyone. No one could end the happiness she was feeling. She kept herself going despite the world around her Watching with their judgemental eyes. She kept her head up and did not stop. In this unrevised Imaginst Poem I found many things that I was able to fix to make the piece stronger. I wanted to portray how this girl in the poem felt and acted. However in doing this, I lacked the physical description of the girl herself. I portrayed what she did very vividly and well, however the lack of physical description was a negative subject that I did not add. More description to the main focus in the poem, the girl, would create a more relatable poem and would want to continue reading the poem. The reader could relate to the girl being described easier if it have more description. The addition of details was a necessity in this poem in order to get the point of it across clear and concise. I also added a title to the poem called “Uncaring� in the revised version. This addition was fulfilling because it would make readers think it might be something negative at first glance. However, it is a more uplifting and positive poem so the irony given in the title creates a curious tone as to what is going to happen in the poem. In addition to adding a title to this poem, the addition of details to the girl was key because it created a more engaging tone with the reader and kept them interested because they could understand and imagine what this girl was doing easier. Unrevised Triolet Poem 21
He keeps his head down, Not daring to look up for anything Afraid at anytime he could breakdown, He keeps his head down Feeling rejected because he's a letdown Being numb and not being able to feel a thing, He keeps his head down, Not daring to look up for anything. In my unrevised triolet poem, there were many things to work on and improve on. My poem is based around a boy who seems to have a deep problem with being insecure, anxious and scared. Throughout the poem, one thing that is evident that needed to be edited was the seemingly repetition of words at the end of the phrases and sentences. This unrevised version demonstrates the usage of the similar words which makes the poem somewhat unappealing to read. Someone might not want to read a poem that seems to be repeating many things and not having a different point anywhere in the poem. I also added a title to this work when I revised it and I named it “Creep�. I named it this because the forever feeling of never feeling safe and secure is creeping up on the boy. The title is a large necessity to be added because it can wrap in a reader just by taking a quick glance at the title and forming a mysterious question as to why the poem is titled this. It also adds insight into what the poem might be about, and it also contributes to power that the poem should hold. The title adds emphasis to the correctness and how it looks more professional which draws people to read it even more. Overall, the rephrased words and additional title create a stronger poem when it becomes revised.
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