RESPONSE FOR 10/31

RESPONSE FOR 10/31

I really enjoyed reading “Physical Evidence” by Kelly Carlisle because the various techniques she uses in her memoir work really well. I thought it as interesting how we didn’t get a lot of details about anything. There wasn’t a whole lot of descriptive imagery, unless she was envisioning her mother. For example, on page 91, she writes, “One night when I was eight my grandfather and I sat in the dining room table, our empty plates and glasses still before us.” This lets us know that they are sitting at the table and have finished eating, but we don’t get any description of the house or the table itself, if it’s round, rectangular, old, new, etc. All of that is left up to the reader, and I think that works for this story. I think her only describing her mother, like when she writes on page 93, “I imagine my mother naked, spread-eagled, her foot touching a crumpled bag of Fritos, an empty can of been by her side. It was 1976, and so I figured it must have been one of those steel cans of Bud with the pull-away tab.” This is a really intense description of her mother and of her surroundings. It’s very detailed, especially when she says the “crumpled” bag of chips and the specific type of beer can she imagined. She gives descriptions like this more in the story, like on the top of page 92. I think the author does this to emphasize the things that she thinks are important, without coming out and directly saying it. We see through her descriptions, or lack thereof, what she really is interested in, because she takes special notice to it. In this story, she’s most interested in any detail of her mom. I think I could take this technique and put it in my own writing, especially since I have a tendency to not put enough description from the beginning.

Personal Essay Exercise "Saving Sugar"

Saving Sugar

We had just moved into our new house. While new to us, it was old. Like one hundred years old. It made funny noises and had a lot of broken things, like my door handle. That would fall off sometimes. It sat right on an alley, and my bedroom windows opened to it. It was summer, so it was still hot, and I had opened my windows for air. Max was fast asleep in his bed on the floor, his tail curled around him and his golden head lolling off to the side. Every now and then he would kick or yelp in his sleep.  I had spent the last few hours reading in my bed, so much so that it was already two in the morning. I was just thinking it was time to hit the lights when I heard it. Oh, God, I wished I hadn’t heard it. As always, my adrenaline spiked, and my heart started pounding. But like always, I waited, hoping that it was the wind. Just as my heart began to slow, it screeched again. It was loud this time, and angry. Max woke up with a start, and our gaze locked, a mutual understanding passing between us. It was almost as if that was our Bat Signal, and we had just seen it.

The damn cat shrieked again, and Max and I simultaneously sprung out of bed and ran to the door. I slid across the floor, trying to stop, and Max forced his way out of the door  as I opened it, making a loud banging sound. We sprinted down the stairs, going so fast we might as well have been flying.

“Sugar!” I yelled, hoping I wasn’t waking everyone up. My mom heard the thundering sound of Max and I and looked startled as I entered the kitchen.

“There’s a huge catfight going on outside. We’re gonna save Sugar,” I yelled, not meaning to, but there was so much adrenaline in me I couldn’t help myself. I unlocked the door and Max and I sprinted across the yard. We were about halfway to the gate when my mom called out to me from inside. I stopped.

“What?” I said, not sure if I heard her correctly.

“Sugar’s inside. She’s hiding under the dining room table.”

I was dumbfounded.

Now, much of what we call “catfights” aren’t physical fights. Cats howl and yell at each other, arching their backs, before they actually go to teeth and nails. Oh, it sounds like they’re tearing each other apart, sure, but they’re usually just all talk and no play. Except it sounds terrifying, and the thought of my kitty being in one is just as scary as the sounds they make. At our old house, she used to run the street. Max and I wouldn’t have to go out and save her very often. But this new alley that we lived on had some mean cats, and their territories converged right at our house. It was the perfect storm, and I had been waiting for it to happen. I guess that’s why I was so shocked she wasn’t there. Sure enough, I walked back inside and she was under the table, looking up at me innocently. Why is it that people always jump to conclusions? Why do they assume it’s all about them? I didn’t even bother checking the house to see if she was there, even though I knew the cats outside were just yelling. Was it wanting to be the hero? Did I have some need to be Batman and drag Robin around with me? That’s the problem with people these days. They need to feel important. They talk about how many likes their picture on instagram or Facebook got, or try to save their cat from a nonexistent fight. We’ve lost sight of what’s actually important.

RESPONSE FOR 10/29

RESPONSE FOR 10/29

            Annie Dillard’s “Living Like Weasels” helped me to figure out what exactly “creative nonfiction” is. I wasn’t really sure before, but after reading this it seems to be the retelling of a personal experience and the effects of that experience. I noticed that the author does a lot of telling and not as much showing throughout the story. For example, on page one hundred and fifty one, it says, “I think it would be well, and proper, and obedient, and pure to grasp your one necessity and not let it go.” Because of this, it did not read to me like a movie in my head. I did experience that some throughout the story, but they were more like little snapshots instead of a whole sequence of events, like on page one hundred and forty nine: “The sun had just set. I was relaxed on the tree trunk, ensconced in the lap of lichen, watching the lily pads at my feet tremble and part dreamily part dreamily over the thrusting path of a carp.” There, I could actually picture the narrator sitting there on the tree trunk in the forest, but a lot of the rest of the story was the narrator’s internal thoughts.

            I think the author did a really nice job of having the narrator think without making it sound like they’re talking to themselves. I think this is because it sounds like the narrator is actually talking to us, and not to himself or herself, and I think I could definitely take this and put it in my own writing.

            There was one line that I really liked, when the narrator is describing the gaze between him and the weasel. It says, “Our eyes locked, and someone threw away the key” (Dillard, 149). This just struck me as being a really interesting way to describe the tension of the scene, and I liked how it wasn’t a simile.

Workshop Response- "The Letter That Changed Everything"

Response to Caroline Billock’s “The Letter That Changed Everything”

            The main character is a girl named Laura, who really wants to go to University of Pennsylvania along with the rest of her graduating high school class. However, her mother wants her to stay home and help out the family, because her father died and she’s having a hard time making ends meet.

            I really liked his story, because I found it really relatable and easy to sympathize with Laura. At my high school, we had a t-shirt day similar to the one you described, and I think the kids who weren’t going to college felt really awkward, like Laura. I also really liked how you used her actions to tell us how she was feeling, instead of just saying it, and I liked Grace being the voice of reason in the story, because your best friends usually tell you like it is, so I found that really believable.

            I think your story could benefit from a little more development. All of a sudden, Laura realizes (page 6) that her life is her own, and she shouldn’t let her mother control her, which isn’t very believable. I think the climax could also be a little more drawn out, since what Laura’s doing is a really big deal. I think the mom could get angrier and maybe do something drastic, like kick her out. I also think that the mom seems too innocent throughout the story. I really sympathized with her- she’s a single mom working her butt off to take care of three kids and is completely overwhelmed, but she’s trying her best. I think Laura’s claim of her not taking responsibility for her life falls flat, because we see her working literally day and night to provide for her family. It would be different if she was just a slob, who didn’t do much, and all of the responsibility fell on Laura to take care of her siblings. I think that could add a lot of conflict to your story and make it more complicated. 

Workshop Response- "Kentucky Velvet"

Response to Chase Bridge’s “Kentucky Velvet”

            The main character is a man named Kenneth Velvet, but who likes to be called Kentucky. The conflict occurs at the end of the story, when he kills a lot of people in a club.

            I really liked the title; it gave off a feeling of a strong force that could not be reckoned with from the very beginning, as did the name Kentucky Velvet. It really helped to set the scene because it gave a feel of being in the Old West/ South. I like the way you use sentence structure to convey the type of person Kentucky is. I imagine him as being a tough guy, who takes justice into his own hands and doesn’t care what anyone thinks, and the short, simple sentences you use definitely contribute to that. I also think you do a good job of writing out the Southern accent in your dialogue for the waitress character- it wasn’t too distracting and realistically represented reality.

            I was a little confused with what the character wants, and what aggravates him to start killing the men in the VIP section. Because of the ending, when he thinks, “Good music deserves all the attention it can get,” I first thought it was because he was angry because the music wasn’t very good, but earlier in the story you say that he loved the music. I think the conflict could be a little clearer, and happen a little more gradually. I was really surprised when Kentucky just got up and started shooting, and I couldn’t tell what led up to that from the rest of the story. I think you did a really nice job with the resolution (him quietly playing the guitar while the cops close in), but I couldn’t tell how Kentucky changed.