Period 1:
Vocabulary quiz
Hamlet Act 3, Scenes 2-3 (maybe even 4???)
Independent reading
Period 2:
Vocabulary quiz
Video exploration of "To be or not to be..." and "Get thee to a nunnery..."
Literature Circles
Period 3:
Our Town work - storyboarding, etc.
Period 5:
Publish or Perish
Small group conferences
Thought for the day...
Far away there in the sunshine are my highest aspirations. I may not reach them, but I can look up and see their beauty, believe in them, and try to follow where they lead.
— Louisa May Alcott
39 comments:
I took a step into the dodgy storm, wanting it to make me apart of it. I let it drip off my skin, and trickle down my face. No one could see the tears, my own torrential down poor. I let the surge of water plummeting down to the earth fall in to my mouth, soaking it in. My clothes now fell and hung off of my frame, clinging on to my outside. It’s free, it’s unstoppable, nothing stopping it, so free. It was nothing like me and my world. This was it, the end of this unpardonable life, my surrender. I’m giving up, letting myself go, this is it. My life would start here, at this moment; I knew it would be okay.
I let my feet guide from the deep blacktop to the thickening forest ahead of me, ranging on for miles. I knew that if I was who I use to be, I would have never been able to see inside the maze of woodland. My senses took over and lead me to where my life was going to start over. My body twisted and winded around every corner, every tree. I could feel the speed moving through my legs, every muscle in my body pushing and pulling me away from that place. It was the place where my past would haunt me. But I couldn’t think about that right now, it irked me to try. I was now to preoccupied with my future, my destination, to worry about what was not behind me; disappearing forever. The rain pricked at my skin, it poured down on me. I knew what it was doing, renewing me. I know why I’m here right now, and for the first time in my life…I was happy.
Here's a new story of mine
Spirits of Veil
“Congratulations sell sword,” a shirtless bandit informed as a teen around what should be his eighteenth birthday came up to meet him face to face. “If you had not been hired before the previous raid, none of us would be standing here now. For that we give you our greatest weapon of no value to use the blade of Lenna the runner of Marist, savior of Arixia from the great cataclysm.”
The male said nothing in the means of thanks as he walked up and grabbed the new blade. Proceeding to get the blade he threw his other iron blade asunder and looked at the his new radiantly bright glow. Quickly after he sat on the cave floor, now light by both torches and the sword. He put his blade at it’s side and put it on both of his arms. “Sword of he holy one,” the man began saying an incantation as a blood red aura began to be seen from him. “Become my blade of the evil’s sun.”
The glow being emitted from the man soon attacked the calm aura of the sword. Which forced the blade to grow even brighter after the incantation was cast. The male closed his eyes and breathed calmly as he let the aura from him grow in terms of size and power. The Cutthroats looked in awe, mouths agape as they tried to piece together the events that were occurring around them. In only a matter of minutes the blades light died out from the constant attacks by the besieging glow, and the blade now showed the same energy that the man was giving out.
“Behold the power of a god has been removed from this blade,” the man exclaimed as he lifted the sword into a fighting stance. “It screams to me for a baptism of blood, and I shall oblige with you being the supplier.”
He charged into the leader of the bandits who was still stunned by the previous action. Steps of footsteps echoed through the cave, nothing else did, no yelling, nothing as no bandit warned the leader. A few seconds after the declaration the man dragged the blade on the ground has he jumped over the man, slicing off his head. The once whole bandit now laid in two places, the head had rolled to the feet of a nearby bandit who stood in complete and utter fear, trembling by this show of force. Flowing freely was the blood from the rest of the body as it dropped quickly to the floor.
The five remaining bandits finally regained their senses as there boss dropped dead. Yelling like mad wildebeest three of them directly charged at the man as he put up his sword to charge in as well. Putting the sword to his right side, he ran into the bandits and sliced all three of them with a fluid motion. All three bodies if lined up would make a crescent shape from which the blade penetrated their skins.
“Pathetic,” the man mentioned as he sheathed his blade away. “If you two value your lives tell your real boss not to attack me ever.”
I miss the old days. Back when only the simple things mattered like waking up at six A.M on Saturdays to watch cartoons. I was completely satisfied with staying home all day and just hanging out with my parents. I miss the times before all the peer pressure to have sex, drink alcohol, and do drugs. Back then, it didn’t mater how you hair or clothes looked. Everyone acted silly and no one gave you dirty looks for it. You didn’t have to worry about money because your parents would buy it for you and the hardest thing in school was learning how to write cursive. I miss the days of innocence.
The road trip seemed like an eternity. Florida was 24 hours away, and I had never been in such close quarters with my family for that long in my life. I slowly got very irritated. I was sick of the questions, and the famous line, "you can do so much better." That's not what I wanted to hear at the time, at all. I wanted to grieve and let my broke heart heal on it's own. I couldn't, I wasn't allowed.
There was a knock on the door, and Perry Keith, Cornelia's mom came to pick her up.
Weeks went by and things continued to get more and more serious. Nefore anyone knew it, the dance was only tow weeks away and Jerald had come around to his senses.
"I am really thinking about asking her, she's been wearing her down a lot and I just adore it."
"She does look rather swell with her hair down." Allen said, "So are you going to ask her?"
"I think I am." Jerald Wilbert declared.
This is the introduction to a different story that I have been working on.
"Foolish"
Somehow, I feel like I’ve been in this same situation before. It’s like déjà vu. I don’t want it to happen but of course it happens anyway. He always knows the right thing to say, even though he’s probably lying. I always believe him, when I know I shouldn’t. There’s a part of me that will always care about him, and I hate it! He’s just going to hurt me again; I know it.
Paint over paint over paint over paper over paper is how he made me. Many weeks of preporation and just looking at me. Every piece placed with an artists position. The newsprint has nothing and everything to do with me at the same time. Sprayed multiple times for the full effect of what I am. Finished but so incomplete. I am nothing without onlookers. People, coming up, face to face, looking at most minute details. The details that pictures cannot show. The texture that the photos lack. Face to face, not face to world wide web.
I miss how my life used to be. It seems that ever since my mom was diagnosed with cancer, my life has gone down the tubes. My best friend, was forced to move far, far away, and my mom got into a car accident. They say that if I was in the car with her I would've been either killed instantly or all the bones on the right side of my body would be broken and glass embedded in my face. The only good thing that has really happened to me is that I've acquired a sister-in-law and three nephews.
this be a chunk from what i intend to be my portfolio piece. it kinda jumps in in the middle, but it's not too hard to follow.
"you know, you're beginning to act like them, fawning over yourself in the mirror like that." kiley glared at him, pushing off the mirror with her shoulder and stepping up to him. if she leaned forward a little, they would be touching... his smirk faltered. he was a full head taller than her, but she could still threaten him easily.
"i," she began, "am nothing like them. never make the comparison again."
I MISS.......
I miss the strength of my friendships. Sixth grade was so fun with me and my three best friends. Seventh grade rolled around and there was a lot of tension and drama just between us three. We were the three musketeers.
Friends changed as seventh grade came around. I miss the secrets that I could trust would never be told.
My younger sister's name is Abigail, which means "a father's joy." If a name existed which meant "a sister's worst nightmare", I would suggest that she change her name to that.
My sister is the one most annoying thing in my life. My "list" of things that annoy me began and ended with her; she is the only thing on the list, because as soon as I wrote her name down, i could think of nothing else that annoys me more than her.
We wear the same sized tops, and most of the time she favors my selection over hers. I would be happy to share them with her, if she asked. She doesn't ask. The best way for my day to be ruined is to come home to find that she helped herself to my wardrobe without giving me any form of notice. Again, asking would be nice.
Other things she does to annoy me are ruining things I have worked on for a long time. For example, if I had left out a poem I had been working on all day with a pencil or pen beside it, she'll scribble through it, which shows that she has no respect for my property. I at least extend her that courtesy.
She'll butt into my conversations with other people and offer nothing but her rude commentary when I haven't said or done anything offensive to provoke her. She also argues with me to no end, even if she is wrong. I give up sometimes when I feel the argument isn't worth continuing, but most of the time she gets so deep under my skin, I can't rise above her level. As hard as I try, there is no way to block her out, because somehow she always manages to find new ways to corrupt my attitude.
Sarah:
I love what you wrote. I totally understand the feeling of wanting to be alone to heal.
Teasha, I like the images that your piece provokes. I was wondering, did you want to be "apart" from it, or "a part" of it?
Katie H.,
I can relate so well to your story right now. But I love how you can just pull the emotions out of a person just by a little paragraph!
Great job!
~Sarah
He put his hand on the door knob. It was cool beneath his finger tips. It was smooth. He looked down. The blue glass shone in the hall light. However he held darkness in his palm. He could feel it below his fingers. Then came a flashback, the voices. They were coming at him from every direction and they were closing in. Now, he could feel it again, evil moving closer. The door knob was getting warmer. Then it started to burn. He quickly turned it and entered into the pitch black room. He slid his left palm across his right and felt the burn. The mark of the door knob. To him it was the sign of death.
Great Job Dylan I like how it was told telling people about being incomplete was a great addition.
Dylan, I liked how you wrote from the prospective of the art. Very original.
Teasha I like how your piece is so descriptive. It seems so depressing in the beginning, but then the last line "I know why I’m here right now, and for the first time in my life…I was happy." it takes you by surprise. I really like it! :)
Nice job!
Sarah,
My favorite line out of your little paragraph was 'I wanted to grieve and let my broke heart heal on it's own.' this is definitely a line that you should keep. I want to know more, add to this story please I need to know.
Katie H. I can feel the feeling that is in your piece because I have talked to some of my friends that have gone through that same thing, and I myself have gone through that.
Brenna:
I love what you wrote. I got cold chills that's how good it is. I can't wait to finish reading your story. I like the line where "he was a full head taller than her, but she could still threaten him easily." I thought it was very funny.
Teasha I like the descriptive words that you used in your piece, I can picture the "dodgy storm" and the "deep blacktop to the thickening forest ahead of me, ranging on for miles." I think that these are very descriptive parts. I want to know more.
Sarah, your piece makes me want to read more. I like how you said that you kept hearing "you can do so much better". I want to know more about that. :)
Awesome job!
Austin,
Nice piece. I can feel the anxiety that Jerald feels when he sees or is around someone that he likes, and wants to be noticed by that person.
Great job!
~Sarah
Katie H,
Oh my goodness, I can relate to this story especially 'I always believe him, when I know I shouldn’t.' this line jumps out to me for some reason and I think it should stay in this story.
Dylan, I think it was beneficial for the reader for you to write from the perspective of the art. It shows the two sided parts everything.
Teasha, I like the first line, where your character expresses her wish to become a part of the storm. I could picture your character with her arms wide open and her face inclined to the rain. I love the line where you said, “No one could see the tears, my own torrential down pour.” It was a strong line and gave a great impression of how much your character was crying. I am very interested in the person your character used to be, who she is now, and why her senses are sharper. I also like your use of the word “irked”, because it is not commonly used. I like how your character is happy because she has a sense of getting to start over.
Katie, I like the title, “Foolish” because you can tell that that is how your character feels for believing someone who keeps hurting her. She can even see through the lies, but she still believes them because she can’t let go of him. I can relate to the line, “There’s a part of me that will always care about him.”
This is a part of my four pages and basically what has happened is Riley fell and broke for right leg and Ben is helping her carry her things to classes and getting home so she doesn't have to ride the bus.
A few weeks have gone by since I was in the hospital and Ben was driving me home one day after track practice. "I miss being out on the track field and running with the track team. Honestly, I don't know if I can take this stupid leg injury anymore!"
"Riley, relax, it's not like you could've done anything to prevent the injury. The only person that could have prevented a fall like that is Superman, and he doesn't exist."
Ben was right, and I had to laugh at the Superman part. Ben always knew how to cheer me up when I was in a sulky mood.
"But still, I have to run Ben, It's a part of me! It's my second nature!"
"I know how you feel. I felt the same way back in soccer season."
"You were only out for two weeks, and I'm out for the rest of the season! It's not the same thing Ben."
By this time we've reached my house. Ben hopped out of his seat and grabbed my stuff. He lifted my bag like it was no problem, even though it weighed well over five pounds. He walked around to my side of the vehicle and helped me down.
Getting into my house was always a struggle for me. On the porch there were three stairs and once you reached the door there was one more step. Ben helped my in every way he could. He opened the door for me and made sure I didn't slip and fall. I didn't understand whey he was doing this for me and why he wanted to help me out all the time. I knew we were close friends, but he seemed to be acting like he wanted to be more than friends.
"Thanks for your help today Ben. I really appreciate it."
"NO problem. Talk to you later." He said with his usual nod. Was it just me or was I imagining that his baby blue eyes were twinkling at me and that he just smiled a smile that I've never seen from him. All I knew was that I couldn't wait to talk to him online later that night.
Dylan, i liked yours. it was short, but very descriptive and powerful. i liked the first line; it had an interesting cadence and rhythm to it even though it's not necessarily poetry.
Lauren, i liked yours a lot too, because i could relate to a lot of it, even though i don't have a sister, i have two brothers. some of the stuff she does was universal and applied to the people i know, too, so i think you did a great job.
Burger King, Wendy's, and Mcdonald's three of my favorite fast food restaurants. Arby's would be on that list, because they serve roast beef mainly, and that's one of my favorite
sandwiches. The first, and only time I went to Arby's I went with my uncle Joe on the home from Connecticut once. After ordering my food off the menu, and waiting for the food to be made the door opens up, and I have a weird habit of look at who comes in the door. The guy who opens is slightly shorter than me, and was "hungry." The guy wanted to something spicy, and he got something with horse radish. After the guy was done ordering his food he thought it would be a good idea to talk to me. The first question he asks is "Is he your dad", pointing to my uncle and I replied "No, he's my uncle." The guy says "I could hook the two of you up if you wanted to," and he makes remarks about the girls behind the counters, and how "pretty they were," and made a rude remark about one. I think the comment was "except that one." I was chewing a jawbreaker and decided to throw it away. The next question was "What's your name," and I responded by saying "I'm good," and then he wanted to know my age, so I told him I was really uncomfortable saying something like that, and our food was done, so my uncle, and I decided to go to his van.
Lauren I like your piece, I feel that many people with siblings can probably relate in some way. I think that people would probably be able to connect on personal levels and want to share their stories that are similar like the other day when we were sharing. I think it is very relatable.
Sarah, I am hooked,and would like to know more about the story.
Katie B, I enjoyed reading your piece. It made me reminisce about my 6th grade year. Things like keeping secrets and such really fascinate me. Its extremely easy to relate to.
Dylan, I like how creative your story is about the painting.
Phillip, I loved how easily the reader could relate to your piece. I loved how you ended it with the way you started it. It helped set the tone of the piece.
Brenna, I liked the how you showed a little tension between the two characters. I would like to know more about the 'them' and who they are.
We are the Ones
Feral and vicious. They drive towards their hunted prey. Their pale, slender fingers draw up into claws as they repeatedly flex their hands. Their eyes are vermilion and sharp to spot their next victim. They are angry, lost souls that thirst for vermilion blood. They are possible the calamity of this world.
The forgotten world of the humans. Those fleshy beings with so many false words. They are gone and none of us care. We are the demons of these humans. We are the ones that made them disappear. We are the ones that are taking over. We are the ones that don't care. We are the ones that are here to stay forever.
We are the ones...
Philip, I like what you wrote about. I like the line, " I miss the days of innocence." Many people can probably relate to that.
Sarah, I love what you have written. I want to know why this person is on the road and why she wants to grieve. I want to know what is going to happen next. I like the line, " I wanted to grieve and let my broke heart heal on it's own. I couldn't, I wasn't allowed."
Publish & perish pieces need to be proofread & spell-checked.... Your grades will reflect the quality of work published, particularly when the errors get in the way of your reader's comprehension.
Great feedback to one another. You are doing an awesome job of pulling out specific details to highlight in your response. Keep up the good work. Now, here are my responses to some of your work:
Philip: I thought your specifics worked well. Is this part of a larger piece?
Sarah: I agree with Katie B. My favorite line is also the one regarding grieving on your own...
Katie H.: Is this part of the portfolio piece we workshopped re: Mary & Anthony?
Brenna: I'm hooked, but I need more details to fully see the scene you are creating.
Nicole: Good job helping to show more of your character's turmoil. I can't wait to see the revision.
Rachel: Your dialogue has a nice rhythm and I also really like how you describe the steps to go into the house. This detail is one that someone on crutches would pay attention to.
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