Post Card Sketch Page

                                                           Original

A woman awaits with a bouquet of flowers in her hand for her youngest son to arrive home from the Cold War. Anxious to see her baby she waits outside a mile down the road to greet him. Her first born had also joined the army and returned home a few days ago. Paul her oldest son dressed in his army attire had followed his mother a mile down the street. Paul stood in front of a tree rifle in hand to see first glimpse of his other half.

                                                           Revision

As I stand outside with your brother to see you my love the winter breeze pierces through my wool sweater. How I dream of having you home each night I went to bed. The Cold War had torn this family apart but now it has given you back to me. With a bouquet full of your favorite flowers I express my joy in having our family reunited. Here in the snow we will stand until I have you embraced in these cold hands.

Racculia & Salvatore Writer as a Reader Response

The excerpt from This Must Be The Place by novelist Kate Racculia and the short story "Reduction" by Salem State alum Joseph Salvatore are both interesting to read.  Before I read Racculia’s excerpt I glanced over it. Visually the construction of her excerpt was very lengthy. I was expecting to read something that one would find on the back cover of a book. Once I began reading the structure became more than just lengthy. Racculia began her excerpt sixteen years before with the mention of a postcard and then transitioned into another part of her life “The Runaway”. Her work reminds me of an autobiography because it seems like she was recalling her life as a teenager. Maybe I felt this way after reading her work because it seems so realistic, a young girl running away from home to follow her dreams. I don’t know how many people do that now a days but running away to pursue one’s dream use to be done a lot in the past.  The structure also reminds me of a diary minus the date entries. It’s her overall approach to her novel that gives it this so called label.  

The short story "Reduction" by Salem State alum Joseph Salvatore has similar elements to novelist Racculia’s excerpt from This Must Be The Place. Both authors decide to begin their story at the age of eighteen which I found interesting.  I must say I enjoyed reading Salvatore’s short story more than I did Racculica’s. Vivid diction plays a major role in how he constructed his short story. Salvatore’s use of figurative language to construct his work took it to a deeper level. At first the message that I was getting from his reading was straight forward that this sixteen year old hated the way she looked because her boobs were an attention grabber and nothing else about her would captivate others. The message changed the more I read. There is more to what the eye meets literally. There were many reasons she gave for not wanting or wishing she never had breasts and in the end all those reasons made sense. His technique of using vivid figurative language brought his work to life. I was able to visualize most of the lines written which helped me understand the story better. Adopting Salvatore’s technique of using vivid language is something that I am familiar with because I use vivid language a lot. However, my writings are not as visual as his. I would like to use diction that makes my works come to life but, I don’t want it to seem as if I’m trying too hard to get that effect.

Why do both authors begin their story at the age of sixteen?

How did Salvatore come up with the idea for his short story to write about a woman who dislikes her breasts?

How and why was Racculia inspired to write this novel?

Just a Theme

School Yard bully
Cough up my money CHUMP!
I was this girl
With fists of fury as I tossed around and swirled.

I am the authority of these play grounds
No money=no monkey bar
Cross me and I'll strike you
Don't argue with the pain MASTER!

School Yard bully
Here I come DE-DUM, DE-DUM
No adults around
I need something for my fists to pound
I was this GIRL!

Revision

School Yard bulleeee Here I come DE-DUM, DE-DUM
No adults around
I need something for my fists to pound
I was this GIRL!

1 o'clock is recess time
All who seeks to play needs to pay
No money means no monkey bar
This is the fee so just pay up and run around like a bee

School Yard bulleeee
With fists of fury I tossed around and swirled.
I was this GIRL!

sketch pg A new kind of poetry!

Love hurts if you can feel the pain you feel?

Can you tell me if this feeling is fake?

Maybe then my heart won't crumble like cake!

Please can someone tell me what is the deal?

Soft heart like a tomato not like steel.

This feeling makes my body sore with aches.

Pain is too strong I can not concentrate.

Love me not, this feeling is so surreal.

Surprised touch makes mouth open like a door.

When will this blood pumper learn to defend?

Fight my battle help my vision to see!

Hurray battle won today I adore.

I guess my beating chest has learned to fend.

Just leave it up to silly me to flee!

A poem (Sketch Page)

Today a poem should be read while on a train

A poem should be painted on crystal glass

A poem should talk about past experiences the kind that makes one smile and occasionally cry

A poem should infiltrate all the minds of the teachers and turn them into zombie soldiers

Once read out loud a poem should make your ears ring with joy from hearing each line

A poem would have made me sad

A poem is the only antidote to boredom

Some people know how to dance, run, fight, and, be pleasant

A poem is a waste of time that you can't get back

Once upon a time

Poetry wasn't poetry it was just another way to keep track of one's feelings like the pages of a dairy

Sketch Page (Cabezón)

 6 Story word

I tried to incorporate Amy Beeder's use of descriptive words in her poem Cabezón to reshape my six story word piece of fiction I began in class. Just as Beeder describes her surroundings I too try to master this style.

 Why do I have to drive on this crowded highway to commute a long way on a rainy day? I don't even like any of these professors. Stuck on the highway as the huge pellets of rain pound on my rusted yellow Toyota two door car stinks like the alley I had to park my car in to make it to class on time. The sun just came up and I can't wait for it to go down. Stuck in traffic on the way home is what I will be. A rainy day just makes my life so much worse. Sometimes I feel curse like the witches who lived in Salem. I wish I could like these classes but I just don't! First day of class the professors always ask why did you pick this class? My mind wonders and I think about picking roses with the thorns still attached trying not to prick my fingers. This careful picking process is the same procedure I used  to pick classes. Obviously I didn't avoid all the thorns when picking classes and my hands red as dirt in Mexico are left bleeding. I chose the worse god damn classes!

Writer's Post "We Real Cool"

We Real Cool by Gwendolyn Brooks is a nice poem to read and listen to.  The way in which Gwendolyn constructed her poem is something that I too would like to try and incorporate into my own work. I have a passion to write poems and adopting this structure or one similar to this poem may shine some light on my own works.  There are eight lines in her poem several of which all end in “we”. However, short her poem maybe its use of diction allowed me to recall the scene in which she was inspired by when she wrote this piece. I was able to see seven people playing pool after school in the month of June singing and or listening to Jazz and having lots of fun who were on the path of death.  This poem was straight forward as far as the message it wanted readers to get after reading it. The audio component also shed some light on Gwendolyn’s technique of how she constructed her poem.  Listening to Gwendolyn’s explanations of how and why she was inspired to write this poem took the poem on a deeper level. 

Listening to her read the poem after I read it was interesting because it was like I was listening to a new poem. She has such a distinguished voice. Her tone reminds me of a deep down south accent or of someone who lives in Louisiana. The way Gwendolyn said the words in her poem aided the construction.  As she said each word it came to life and made the poem more appealing. For example, when I was reading her poem I came across the word June. This word doesn’t mean anything to me more than a month. However, to Gwendolyn June was more than just a month it was a “nice, gentle, non- controversial, fragrant, enjoyable, pleasant month that everybody loves.”  I think I’m going to try and use words that have a lot of meaning to me that wouldn’t necessarily mean much to others.  This element might make my work more enjoyable to read and help with my writers block which I get sometimes.