Unit 1 Reflection: Skills to Pay the Bills

            Truth be told, I actually came into this class not expecting much simply because I've already taken four or five writing classes and written tons of papers and stories throughout the last five years of college. I was surprised when I found out that there were some key elements to good writing that I didn't have. We've talked about what a narrative is and how to tell a story through your writing, building tension, and exploding the moment in the class so far and each of those elements has been extremely thought provoking and beneficial. Building tension was probably one of the most important topics we discussed because I've never really been able to do it in my writing. For that reason, Its one of the areas in my writing that I want to work on the most, and this class has given me ample opportunity to do that. Exploding the moment was another really interesting exercise and one that I know I'll use often simply because really detailing a story in a non-wordy way its critical to having an impact on your audience. I also think the explanation of rhetorical was helpful in situating my mind's eye before I start a new piece. Having a direction is definitely helpful in creating a narrative. The other area that could be important although I've never really valued it very highly is to comment as a reader. I personally have always wanted people to be completely honest about my writing even if that means saying that it sucks. Obviously it's important to be nice about giving feedback to colleagues but I think sometimes more critical observations can be helpful. Then again I understand the need for the writer him/herself to learn to identify and fix their errors.

On Style, and thoughts thereof

            Style is rhetorical in the sense that the style of every individual piece of writing is influenced by the needs of the audience. Style is basically the way you as an individual write. When you're reading a novel, the style is generally how the narrator tells you the story. Style has been a huge part of my development as a writer. Through several of the creative writing courses that I've taken I've had to slowly adapt and chance my writing style to fit my assumed audiences needs and expectations. With the novel that I'm working on for instance, I realized that my audience was going to be a younger group of people who are interested in action and a fantasy universe. That knowledge alone educates me in how to modify my writing so that it comes off to the reader as being tension filled and active as opposed to my original style which tended to be very proper and conversational.

The Glimmer: V2

            John was always a troubled child from the very beginning. He displayed signs of destructive anger from the time he was two years old till that anger slowly shifted to an internal hatred of himself and by proxy the world around him. Pain and loss lead him to a place in which he was plagued by utter uncaring and sadness. In the sixth grade he was met with a thread or tether, to carry him through the tough middle school years, as he met the music director at Redland Middle School, Mr. Hudson. Mr. Hudson was an excellent teacher and someone that John looked up to. In seventh grade, on the first day of class John found out that Mr. Hudson had taken a job at a High School and that he wouldn't be coming back.

            "John, don't you dare buy that drink, we're loading the buses now." Mrs. Killroy was an exceedingly rotund woman in her late 40's to early 50's. The new music director at Redland Middle School had very little say-so over her students, and she found that the majority of students who had been there the year before despised her.

            John didn't bother to respond to her. He felt confident that he could get away with buying a soda even if it directly contradicted his teacher's command. There had been three people in front of him at the soda machine moments before who had ignored Mrs. Killroy's initial instruction to get to the busses. Why should it be any different for John? He had been waiting patiently for every other student to finish getting their drinks, and it was finally his turn. That sentiment, of course, lead to him choosing to blatantly ignore the seemingly powerless teacher. As he fished the dollar into the machine, he felt as if he'd escaped his drink-less fate and pushed down on the Surge button. He tried not to look at the teacher, as if he hadn't heard her.

            John must've drawn the short straw of karma that day as apparently the teacher was done being ignored. Her shoes clacked with harsh resonance on the ground as she burst forward and shot her hand in the vending slot. She pulled out the surge that John had just bought and paid for and then threw it smugly in the garbage. "GET TO THE BUS!"

            John's pride was injured, his feelings hurt. In his mind he had done everything correctly. He let everyone else go before him, he was patient, and he felt that if everyone else had gotten their drink while disobeying the teacher then he should be entitled to a drink as well. The slight of ignoring the teacher a moment longer to get what he had felt he deserved seemed minimal in comparison to Mrs. Killroy's aggressive act. He felt his throat closing off  as the unfairness of not only this moment, but also life in general smothered him. He made a choice then to flip the switch on his emotions and instead to hate Mrs. Killroy with an unyielding and destructive passion.

            Over the next year and a half John would lose his first dog as well as his grandfather. After already having lost the only person he actually liked in middle school, Mr. Hudson, he was quickly losing the fight for happiness and was running out of things that he had a passion for. The one thing that really gave him a sense of satisfaction during those years was the cello. He could pour his emotions, fears, and worries into the music and all of those negative things in his life became a beautiful deep melody. He always thought it was interesting how so much pain and sadness could produce something so sweet sounding. Walking sedately into Orchestra class every morning he would tune out Mrs. Killroy and focus in on the cello sitting in front of him. When she told a story to the class he would practice the fingering of a piece that had caught his attention. He held on tight to the cello all the way through middle school and one day found him self auditioning at Coral reef high school with his old teacher, Mr. Hudson, sitting in front of him. Although there was some excitement at the sight of his old teacher, mostly John found himself unsure about how he felt. After all, he’d spent the last three years of his life shutting down emotionally so that he didn’t have to deal with the pain. Suddenly there was a white light at the end of the tunnel where one hadn’t been before. He missed out on two years with Mr. Hudson as a teacher, but the possibility of four years was now coming into the picture.

            “Hey John, take a seat,” said Mr. Hudson.

            There were two other people with Mr. Hudson that worked together to audition students applying for the school. The woman seemed kind to John, she was fairly young and attractive for an administrator and she seemed caring. While Mr. Hudson and the woman seemed to be happy to see John and eager to see what he had to offer on the cello, the other man didn’t seem at all interested in the proceedings.

            “Why don’t you go ahead and play us the first song you prepared John.”

            It’s lucky that John was so naive at the time. He played the pieces he’d practiced for the committee calmly and with passion and it was clear that they were very happy with his performance. Had he realized at the time that all the other students applying to the school had had private lessons and years more experience then he might not have played so well. But not knowing, he put in everything he had and not long after that he received a letter in the mail that announced his admission to the school.

            The next four years were wonderfully spent with good friends and a wonderful role-model. John finally came out of his apathetic shell and started to live life again to feel pain as well as love simultaneously. He continued playing cello throughout high school and through 2 years of college as well and even now picks it up occasionally when the mood strikes him. Since then he’s found new passions and hobbies that he fills his time with and it’s sad in a way that he didn’t keep playing, but at the same time were it not for music in the first place he might not have any of the things that he does today.