There are 65 calendar days left for seniors... Wow!
Period 1:
Vocabulary quiz
Present current events
Persepolis reading quiz
Work on Iran research
Period 2:
Vocabulary quiz
Present current events
Discuss/review Doctor Faustus
Begin reading Act 1
Period 3:
Our Town auditions continue!!
Period 5:
Publish or Perish
Peer Workshop
Schedule writing conference with me!
Thought for the day...
"Tough times never last, but tough people do." - Robert H. Schuller
47 comments:
I used this essay for one of my scholarships--I chose to post it because I thought that Mrs. Tyler would enjoy the fact that I mention Stephenie Meyer (of course!).
As a child, you often think of role models as the superheroes you see on television. When you grow up, you realized that most role models are normal people. People look up to athletes, actresses, singers, and other celebrities. While some celebrities set an admirable example to follow, others do not. Similarly, some athletes compete honestly, while others cheat with the use of steroids. It is up to individuals to decide if they are going to follow the examples of positive, successful role models, or negative ones. As an aspiring writer, I have many examples to follow. There are many famous names who have achieved excellence that I try to follow. The three most inspirational writers whom I admire the most are J.K. Rowling, Stephenie Meyer, and Jodi Picoult.
I admire J.K. Rowling because of her success, of course, but most of all because of the steps she took to achieve her level of success. She started out as a welfare mother living in a shack with her daughter, struggling to support herself and her daughter. She started with just an idea about an orphaned wizard boy, and took off with it. She would write anywhere, on anything, including napkins, if an idea came to her. While she had to face many rejections when first trying to get the first Harry Potter book published, she finally had success with Bloomsburg in the UK. Not long after, the rights for publication in America were bought by Arthur A Levine Books, and J.K. Rowling found herself able to quit her job teaching in favor of writing full time. The popularity of Harry Potter grew so rapidly, by the time the last book in the series had been released, J.K. Rowling was wealthier than the queen of England.
Stephenie Meyer is the author of my favorite saga: Twilight. The level of fame that she has achieved through this saga is incredible for anyone. She got the idea for Twilight from a dream she had, in which a girl and a vampire who were in love with each other were talking in a meadow. Her challenge was writing the book in between all of the events in her life revolving around her three sons, who were at the time one, three, and six years old. After overcoming the hurdle of completing her first book, the next step was to find an agent to represent her—preferably one that knew what they were doing—and getting her book published. Stephenie faced many rejections as well. Because of her success with the Twilight saga, she now laughs at the thought of the publishers who rejected her kicking themselves for their poor decision.
Though I have only read one of her novels at present, Jodi Picoult is deserving of my admiration because of the plotlines and issues that she tackles in her books. She is a daring writer, going into territory not many other writers venture into. At the Woodsville High School, I was fortunate enough to be present when Jodi Picoult came to speak to our school about bullying and her book Nineteen Minutes. I was impressed by how real she is. She is down to earth, despite being world-renowned for her books. While she spoke to us, she told us about her recently released book, Handle With Care. In this book, she brings up the issue of being a family with a child who was born with serious disabilities, and whether or not you would file a wrongful birth lawsuit to help your family. It is Jodi Picoult’s bold topics that inspire me to believe that I can do anything I set my mind do, and that I can explore any depths.
As a positive person, whoever I choose for a role model will be someone who makes positive choices and has a positive influence on the world. As an aspiring writer, I know the importance of following through with plans, finishing stories, and working harder than I think is possible. Like my literary role models, I want to reach beyond the ordinary and achieve excellence on my own terms.
Here's a poem that actually ties to my story
Myself
I myself am
The trigger to the gun
The gun that I shoot now
The gun that I taught another to fire
Now we both share the same fate
I myself am
Darkness
There is nothing but a black empty void
Where there should be a soul
My soul is gone
Now I feel naked where I should feel fully clothed
What am I
Is what I question while I walk
With her with her hand
Attached to mine
Both covered in blood of a victim
What I shall do next
Is for someone else to decide
This is my first paragraph of my three pages
I have a secret. It’s not some small, silly secret that would only embarrass someone if I told the world. No, if I told this secret to anyone, someone could die. I’m sure you’re wondering what my secret is by now. I guess I could tell you, but you have to promise not to tell anyone. Not one soul. Remember, people’s lives are at stake here. Ok, so my secret is that I witnessed someone take a gun to the top of a building in Los Angles and fired thousands of bullets down on innocent civilians. Not only did I witness it, I was on the roof with that madman. But that’s not all of it. That madman was and still is my best friend.
A while ago, I lost my first IPod. I was absolutely beside myself looking for it.
I was missing not having an IPod so much I ended up going out and buying a new one.
Ironicly, I found my old IPod within the next month in a space in my recliner. I guess that I sat there and it fell out of my pocket.
The way that I found it was very strange. I was kicking the back of the chair and I felt something that wasnt supposed to be there.
I reached into it and there it was.
I ended up giving my old IPod to my mom and keeping the new one. It worked out well because of how awsome the new one is...I'm listening to it right now as a matter of fact.
Bravo Philip, I like how you gave the view to the witness, telling use that he is the murder's best friend.
WRITE MORE
A tree
A leaf
They just go together
You
Me
Two birds of a feather
That sounds cliché
To me it doesn’t matter
A pod
A pea
That sounds just right
Stars
Sky
Good morning and Goodnight
I love you
Two much, Two soon
"I hate you!" was the last words i said to my mother. we had some stupid fight about school because i was failing two of my classes. i slammed the door to my bedroom and laid down on my bed, squeezing my face into the pillow. i heard footsteps coming and stopping at my door. "I'm going out to get some groceries. do you want to come with me?" my mom said. i thought that question was so ridiculous because we just had a fight. "I hate you!" were my final words to her. she paused and went away.
Justin, I liked the repetition in the beginning of your poem and I think that maybe you should have continued using repetition in the rest of the poem.
Motivational Lying
I got home to find my twin brother and sister Carmon and Shane watching t.v. with my mother. Barney. They were little so the smallest things seemed intriguing to them.
I went upstairs and when I passed my sister's room, and I noticed she was on the floor lying on her back. I ran in, her eyes were open, but she wasn't breathing. I yelled her name several times "Anglea," I yelled to my mom. "Mom," I cried with intense fear. "HELP!" Angela still wasn't moving, I pushed on her stomach and gave her air.
"What is going on?" My mother's eyes were wider than I had ever seen them.
This is a excerpt from one of my stories.
To whom it may concern... I was killed today. I'm not sure how or by who, but I was killed.
There was a split second of pain, before my body crumpled to the ground. Blackness engulfed me as I lay still on the ground, gasping to breath. The next thing I know I'm standing as if nothing was wrong. I look around me, and see that I'm still in the alley where I was attacked.
Tis a peice of writing that I've revised a couple times and I want to know what needs to be done to make it wayyy better.
"What's eating at you Jerald," Allen pondered based on the lame expression that was present on his face.
"Everything is just jake, Jerald paused for a moment, " I mean there is just this girl who really likes me and its really starting to get under my skin.
"Well, who is it?"
"It's that Cornelia Keith girl, who lives on the other side of town." Allen paused and a disgruntled look appeared on his face.
"You mean to say, that Cornelia Keith, the most swell girl in all of town likes you?"
Nicole, I really liked the rhyming in yours.
"I'm so lonely." Riley said one day in her quiet little world. She was sitting on a damp log not caring that it was drizzling outside. Not really caring about anything at the moment.
Riley lived in a world where no one loved her. Not even her parents loved her. Riley longed for attention. She longed for somebody to love her and care for her.
Riley was so deep in her thought that she didn't hear her mother calling for her.
"Riley Paige, it's time for dinner!" Riley's mother shouted for the 4th time.
"Coming!" Riley didn't want to leave her log and go into that life less house, a house lacking love. She didn't want to deal with the abuse she would suffer.
Every day Riley would be abused by her mother and father. Her father was a workaholic and her mother was an alcoholic. Both parents were never home much because of it. So as a result Riley had no parental guidance in her life. She had no one to love and nothing to cherish.
Riley's school life was just as bad. As a freshman in high school she was already at the bottom of the food chain, but her home life made it worse. Her pale blue eyes would be stained with tears and her sweet innocent face was marred with bruises. Everyone would laugh at her and make fun of her. Everyone except one person, Ben.
Philip, I like how yours has a feeling of secrecy. And that was just amazing.:)
Sarah Lee, I'm hooked! I like how the kids and the mom were down stairs and didn't even know that it was happening. It's very good.
Lauren,
I loved your story. It really gave me a sense to be more careful of who my role models are. People who like you said do steroids are not honest people, and if someone is not honest, they do not deserve to be a role model. And the people who choose to admire people like that, I feel are not being true to them selves.
Great job!
~Sarah
The fiery pit in front of me ripped and burned at the wood concealed inside of it. The smog of black coming from the heated blaze, glazed the sky to a deepened black. I watched helplessly with my family, as our home tumbled to the ground. I was relieved, not for still having my life, that was something I couldn't save. I was relieved to leave the rubble in front of me, I couldn't see it, look at it any longer. My entire body quivered long exaggerated shakes. I had no place to go, no food, no shelter, just death to look forward too.
Dan Peart
"hungry/infection"
I just looked at my left arm and passed it off as dog bite, or a spider bite. I woke up with no recollection of last night. I waited a few more days to see if the bite would lead to an infection, and it did. My left arm turned into a pale gray color, "weird" I thought to myself feeling hungry for something I had never felt hungry for. I heard a noise that sounded like a warning signal. I went into my living room to turn the news."People are getting weird bites. More at 11" the news anchor said. I left my house, and looked up in to the gray sky, and then it rained pouring down making me a little depressed.
Justin, I like how your person is like a shell that is pretty much looking for a host to inhabit it.
Jacob, I love your excerpt. I'm hooked and I'm glad that you decided to post it, because it's great!
i really like the beginning of your story. i makes we want to now more and i also have a twin nephew and niece. i really want to now more. Good Job!
---Sarah
Hungry Prompt.
"I'm so hungry!" Felicia said as she made her way threw the lunch line. She hadn't eaten breakfast today, and her stomach was empty. She got her food and sat down with Trish, her best friend since kindergarten. Felicia started pigging out, barely even chewing her food.
"Jeezum', do your parents feed you?"Trish questioned.
"Yes, they do but I just woke up late and didn't get to eat breakfast." Trish nodded.
They continued eating, and Felicia was still basically inhaling her food. Jeff, the cutest boy in school, walked by Felicia and Trish. He glanced over at Felicia. Felicia looked up and smiled at Jeff, not knowing she had some mayonnaise and a little piece of lettuce on her face. Jeff smiled and chuckled a little.
"Trish, did you see that? He smiled at me!"
"Hun, I think it's because you have a little something on your face.
Felicia was embarrassed.
Dan I'm thinking you are wanting some brains in this story.
In other words I guess you are heading down the path of zombies.
Good job nonetheless
Nicole, I really enjoyed reading your poem. It was quite and had fantastic rhythm.
The gooey green slimy film of the bottom of the clear glass bowl stuck to the fridge on the second shelf. The smell was horrific, almost unbearable. The smell consisted of a tad of old sweaty feet mixed in with wet dog and I'm sorry, vomit. The once green lettuce was now a rustic brown. It was time for the outdated clear glass bowl to take the trip to the landfill.
The walk to the dumpster seemed to take hours. Walking with the wind coming in my direction made me gag. The wind blew the smell of feet, dog and vomit up my nostrils, burning as it went up. My eyes watered and dripped off my pale plump face.
I decided to try to walk backwards to the green CM Whitcher dumpster that lay is feet away from where I stood. Little did I know there was a jagged rock that lay point side up on the rocky driveway. I tripped over the pointed rock and the bowl went flying. Luckily, the salad that remained in the bowl was over three weeks old, so it didn't move a leaf. The salad bowl landed right side up on my belly.
I set the bowl down so I could get up. A little scrape appeared on my forearm. Blood trickled down my left arm. Fragments of rocks and dirt fell off as I brushed my right arm across my left. Blood circles on my bright blue flip flops. All of this for a nasty old salad, I thought to myself.
Dan,
I love the beginning of your story! I'm definitely hooked! I want to know what happens with this "infection".
Great job!
~Sarah
Nicole yours is so cute! It sets a happy kind of mood. :)
Awesome job!
Dylan I can think of somethings where that has happened, but not with an ipod
i like the rhyming of your poem. i also like how its about things in nature because i love poems like that. Good Job!
---Nicole
Kim!!!!
I want to know what happened. I am hooked. It is ridiculous to me that I became hooked when you didn't even say much. However I feel like I need to know what happened and what is going to happen. Please, please, please, please keep writing.
Justin,
There is nothing but a black empty void
Where there should be a soul
This line was a very strong line and I think it has more meaning than the reader may know.
Kim I like your take on to whom it may concern it was interesting.
Sarah, I want to know what happens! Is the sister going to live? I liked how you just started out things with a normal life, and added in the surprise of the sister not breathing. Well done, very intense.
lauren, your essay was great! i love how you described each one of the writers you look up to and are inspired by. I was nice with the depth you went into with everything you mentioned. I thought it was well put together and nicely done!
Lauren, I think that this essay is good. I have read the Harry Potter books, and I like them however Stephanie Meyer and Jodi Picoult are the most amazing writers in my eyes. I like your essay, because I am connecting with it. I am inspired by Jodi Picoult the most.
Lauren, your essay, is very very easy to get into it. We all have role models and your writing made me think of who I see as role models. Cute.
Kim Troy,
I really like how you approached your writing. It is a lot like the book lovely bones. Good job.
Teasha I really like yours. It sets a very sad mood. But, I can picture the people just standing there in sorrow, watching there house burn down.
Nice job!
Nicole, your poem is so cute, and makes sense. I like the rhyme scheme and the lines that consist only of one or two words, and then the longer lines.
Philip, your paragraph is chilling. It makes me want to read more, to know why the narrator was on the rooftop with his best friend, why his best friend killed so many people, and why he is still best friends with him. I am hooked.
nicole, yours was so unique...i loved how you made it so simple. like the cliches were perfect, they fit extremely well. i guess i liked it because it was a love poem, but the way you said everything was perfect to me. simple, but descriptive.
Nicole,
Very cute I love the whole thing but my favorite lines are
You
Me
Two birds of a feather
good job.
Teasha, your's was very descriptive. I could picture the house burning to the ground. I want to know how the character handles the situation. Nice Job!
this is something i've been kicking around to insert in a story about a girl from a race who can change into a wolf at will. they all have this ability, but she's a bit special, seeing as she's pretty much the princess of her race. she's the alpha male's kid, so her life is a bit... vexing. anyway, her and some of her friends/bodyguards/packmates are off in the woods, in wolf form, just sorta hangin' out and being kids. wolf kids. here ya go.
Lilith sniffed the ground, looking for something interesting. over her shoulder, she heard some of the guys romping and and decided to join them. she leapt onto Delilah's chocolate brown back, playfully nipping at her ears. Delilah whipped around, snapping, and Lilith jumped away, settling into the playful position. Delilah huffed and sat on her haunches, unwilling to play. sourpuss. Lilith turned to jump into the fray, nipping tails and ears. before long, all five wolves were sitting and panting, having just bowed down to Lilith as the best brawler. she got up, preparing to march forward again, when a gunshot rang out in the empty, twilit forest. a yelp escaped from her throat as a sharp pain entered her side and red blossomed from just below her ribcage. she somewhat unintentionally phased back to human.
"LILITH!" Cayne was the first to her side, crouching in human form. the others were quick to follow him. Lilith was curled in on herself, lying in her side and clutching the bleeding wound, making small, labored breaths. Cayne carefully picked her up, telling her to just breathe, stay with him. he barked orders to the others, telling half to go find help, and the others to go and get Lilith's father. he told one wolf to go and find the hunters who had shot her. he turned back to the girl huddled in his arms, resuming his reassurances. she wanted to tell him that she was pretty sure she was alright, that she didn't think the bullet hit anything important, but she was in too much pain. he carefully lifted her up, and she winced, sucking in a sharp gasp between her teeth. the woods became a blur as Cayne rushed her to her home. she faintly heard him mutter, "i swear, if i find that hunter, i'll tear him apart." then all went black.
lauren, i think you're dead right: we can't be too careful of who our role models are. teasha, your's was abnormally dark, for your writing, but in a good way! very descriptive. kudos!
The faint glow from the TV shined off the room. Sabre threw herself onto the couch. She had just returned from the long, dangerous journey of retrieving a glass of water. She had to battle the great golden Retriever that was guarding the hallway. Then she had to run into the kitchen and obtain the glass from the cupboard and quickly fill it with water before the dog came, begging for a treat.
Sabre was now resting her feet on the soft, comfortable couch and lazily sipping her drink and occasionally glancing up at the TV screen. She was about to take another gulp of water when suddenly, she heard someone else's breathing. Her eyes went wide and she was surprised for a second. She realized that it was only her weird friend, Pyre.
A laugh was heard from behind the short couch. "You smell good, Savory..." He was being his weird "vampire" self again. He wasn't even a vampire, well, he wasn't human, Sabre noted once again his awkward appearance. The red eyes, pointed teeth, and long pointed ears, that reminded her of a fox. Sabre was annoyed slightly and she sighed.
"Pyre, for the HUNDREDTH time, it's Sabre. See? Say-Bre. Not Say-vory. And there is nothing savory about me..."
"hmph, you're no fun, Savory." He complained. "I just want one little bite. Please?" He begged.
"Agh! That's disgusting." Sabre was disgusted beyond anything. Could he just act like a normal well- some what normal- guy? Just for once!!!
"What's wrong with you, Pyre. Just be normal, please. Keep the creepiness, down a little, please.
"Awww, I'm sorry. I'll stop now." Pyre said with a grin.
Justin, I liked your poem about your story. The repeating of the two lines "The gun..." was good.
Nicole, I liked your poem. It was cute. :)
Brenna, I want to read more! It was full of description, and I liked how you had the characters acting all innocent and having fun, then add the gun shot. It made the reader want to keep reading to see if Lilith would make it.
Alicia, your's was creepy. I liked how you described the boy's facial features. I could really picture him.
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