Creative Writing Club: Alphabet Poem

Hi, welcome (or welcome back) to Creative Writing Club! This series details the activities we have done at my school's Creative Writing Club and gives them to you to serve as inspiration. Feel free to participate and to post what you've written.

This week Creative Writing Club is coming at you on Wednesday. Sorry about that, but I don't think you can complain too much because 1) nobody actually participates and 2) at least I'm posting! Yeah.

Anyway, this week we worked on a super cool prompt!

Prompt: Create a short story that’s 26 sentences long with each sentence starting with the next letter of the alphabet so that you have A, B, C, D, etc. Also include a one word sentence, a metaphor, a simile, a quote/paraphrase, a question, and a rhyme. If you want an added challenge, write a poem with all of the same requirements.

After today, I am so done. Before, I was content. Content! Dreadful circumstances have now brought me down to size and the world is full of elephants. Elephants the size of my mind and the heights and depths of my love. Floundering, like a fish, I am in this evaporating well of good emotions. Gorging your lumpy stomachs and greedy black eyes on me, are you? How it hurts me. Ice is growing from my fingers up my arms and down to my soul. Just wait and see how bitter I can be. Kites fly high and so once did I. Lacking love and patience though murders the soul. Murder is what this is. Night after night, I wake and can’t breathe for even my dreams of this suffocate me. Obliterate me and be done or let me be! Pray I only that you do one quick. Quick as a viper’s poison may kill one of those elephants. Rain down your poison on me and finish. Slither away then and smother someone else. Then I can live in my blissful state. Usually I love you so much, but lately.… Victim is how I feel. Wow. X-ray my chest now and you will find it still. Years from now maybe my chest will beat its own drum again, free. Zipperless and cageless and just free, free, free.

I had a lot of fun getting some emotions out and working on this prompt so you know, you should try this, too! Maybe you could even post what you write! Just maybe.

Creative Writing Club: Living Life Backwards

Hi, welcome (or welcome back) to Creative Writing Club! This series details the activities we have done at my school's Creative Writing Club and gives them to you to serve as inspiration. Feel free to participate and to post what you've written.

Yesterday, I gave you all the first part of this week’s Creative Writing Club. Today, I give you the second part:

Write something happening backwards. For instance, a city being unbuilt, a volcano unerupting, or weather erecting a city.

This is what I wrote:

The man slumps out of his grave, unkempt, memoryless. He slips, like a salmon, into the stream of his life, bouncing off of rocks he should’ve seen coming. His scar unwinds and oozes blood anew until he never hit his head on the rock in the first place. He sees his wife grow shallow, distant, until they get married and until they start dating and he never sees her again. But she was from his hometown, wasn’t she? So all  through his youth, he searches for the straight, long--was it long when she was young?--hair of his wife. But, didn’t she straighten her hair? Then or now? He searches until he loses control of his own ability, until he cannot keep his eyes open, until he erases back into his mother’s womb.

So I tried to play on the concepts of undeath, unlife, unbirth.

Now, it’s your turn! If you write something, feel free to post it.

Creative Writing Club: A Character in Action

Hi, welcome (or welcome back) to Creative Writing Club! This series details the activities we have done at my school's Creative Writing Club and gives them to you to serve as inspiration. Feel free to participate and to post what you've written.

Our prompt for Creative Writing Club was to write a story (either about a character or about ourselves) in which he/she was running, swimming, flying, strolling, etc. Basically, we had to write about a character in the middle of some kind of action. Rather than starting a new piece, I decided to write on my Work-In-Progress (WIP).

This is what I've got so far:

London at night had always been beautiful. This night, the stormy clouds swam across the skies and dove into the depths of the horizon. They swamped the Moon and the stars, and the only light emanated from the street lamps, the cars, and the offices open late. The lights reflected off of the roiling clouds so that no light from London stretched into the Heavens and no light from the Heavens touched the humanity of London.

Through the layers of clouds, Mara soared with white, angel wings. Her wings pumped the cool air into her face, brushing the hair away from her eyes, like the soft touch of a loved one. She tucked her wings close to her body and popped through a temporary gap in the clouds. The headlights of a car on a hill blinded her for a second as she descended towards London.

She flew to her house, through the open window and unto her mattress, which sped along the floor with the force of her landing. It hit the wall and Mara’s shoulder embraced the rough edge of a brick. She began to bleed.

Mara left her wound to bleed and sat on the edge of her mattress, tracing her skin with her fingers, feeling its soft, pure, whiteness end in a searing pattern of scars. She traced them as they marched up her skin. They hopscotched up her right arm, around and around, like an entangling serpent. They met her shoulder and danced across her chest, around her breasts in a parade of emotions, sliding their way to her stomach and down, down. They fled, like tears streaming, down both legs and to the tips of her pinkie toe. Across her left arm, too, they skipped.

Her back was almost unmarked. One x-shaped scar split her perfection. This scar split her heart, breaking it into fragmented pieces, slices stitched together with the scars. This scar split her heart, slid in between her ribs, and came out the other side. It was x among the o’s.

She remembered each scar and she wept. Her tears flowed from darkness, the heavy bags under her eyes, and into the light, as the shadows roved around the room, shifting with the wind’s movement of the lights in the room.

The lights in the room acted as spotlights. As they blew, they highlighted the crying Mara and then highlighted, one by one, the pictures covering much of the wall space in the room.

There was a time in her life when Mara could tell the story of each and every picture hanging--the picture of Shakespeare and Anne, of Mary and Joseph, of Mark Antony and Cleopatra--but as time unraveled, her matchings became clumsy and her arrows sometimes missed, and Mara no longer knew who all was on her walls. The two men in front of the altar--had she shot them? King Henry and his one, two, three, four--fourth wife, it was--kissing beside the guillotine. Had she done that? Had she betrayed the name of Love in that way? She couldn’t remember. Perhaps she had. Or perhaps, while she had been languishing in her self-pity, the world had escaped her grasp. Perhaps she was no longer the Cupid of the heavens and the earth. Perhaps the humans were damned to make their curses and graced to make their own blessings. Or perhaps it had always been her doing. Perhaps she was the Medusa and also the Hercules of Love.

Either way, Love was her domain, and no one--not Venus, not the Erotes, not humanity--was going to take her passion from her.

Mara stood, walked to her table, and began to sharpen both her golden and iron arrows. She dipped her golden arrows in Love and climbed the stairs. She perched behind the curtain of her window and waited.

That's all I have right now. The idea for this story didn't come from the writing prompt above, but from the music video below: Ed Sheeran's Give Me Love. So feel free to write using either one of these for inspiration. If you participate, post what you wrote. Pretty please.

Creative Writing Club: Clock Taboo

Yesterday, I introduced to you a new series: Creative Writing Club! This series outlines the activities that my high school Creative Writing Club does in order to get inspired.

Yesterday, I shared the first activity that we did in this week's meeting. Today, I will share the second (and final) activity that we did in our meeting for this week.

To start, our club listed several specific topics we could hypothetically write about. These topics included clocks, Stonehenge, Jerry Seinfeld, etc. We chose one topic as a group and then brainstormed a series of words commonly associated with the first word. Our teacher challenged us to write about the first topic without using any of the words we listed.

So we had to write about a clock without using any of the following words: clock, tick-tock, hand, minute, hour, time, second, face, number, pendulum, antique. Basically, this was like the game taboo.

I wrote this:

Running around, stuck in the eternity that ends only when midnight is struck. There's no need for me to carve hash marks into the walls of my prison, as this round cage already contains them. These hash marks dictate my life. Each hash mark passed is life lost, and every 360 marks, an infernal dinging rings inside my head. Those outside this dome jump with fright at every ding, but I envy them: they are free.

Now, I'm challenging you to write anything about a clock without mentioning the taboo words (clock, tick-tock, hand, etc. as listed above).

If you participate, feel free to post below!

Creative Writing Club: I'm Sorry But...

Hello, random Internet dweller who has stumbled onto my modest and long-abandoned blog! It's been almost a year since I actively blogged, but now I've decided to return to my blogging days, so here I am!

In my nearly-year-long absence, I helped to create a Creative Writing Club at my high school, which is, unfortunately, named Creative Writing Club still (feel free to throw some ideas out there for a new name!). We meet every Tuesday as a club so I've decided that I will post the club activities to serve as inspiration for anyone who may be reading this.

This week, we read a poem:

This is Just to Say
by William Carlos Williams

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

Our teacher then challenged us to mimic Williams in both his style and tone. The resulting poems were hilarious and also slightly morbid. I wrote this:

I'm Sorry But...
by Bria

I didn't see
you there
on the sidewalk
in the midday sun

I'm sure
you were happy
dreaming of
anthills

You know
until I squashed you
and you lay
crumpled

Now I challenge anyone reading this to write a quick William Carlos Williams-ish poem, like his "This is Just to Say." Don't shy away if you're not a poet or if you "don't have time." This activity is really quick (it took me five minutes) and really easy even for those who are not particularly skilled in poetry.

So have fun and if you participate, feel free to post your poem!

The Twenty-First Time

Why do we do this so often? 

(In case you're wondering, this song has nothing to do with Winter Jam.) I was listening to it and thinking about how we pretend not to see those in need. 

Why do we do this so often?

My youth group leader talks so much about sitting with those people who sit alone at lunch and I’ve always thought of one or two, but not done much. Today, with this song and a very moving story from a girl in my youth group, I realized that kids now don’t sit alone so much as they just tune out of the group they sit with. Kids all over the lunch room sit with headphones on, heads on tables. They are alone. True, maybe they like music a whole ton, but maybe (and I feel more likely) they very simply have no one who will really talk to them. In spirit, they are alone. 

Anyway, there are people at school - and at work and in the mall - who are alone. I see them. You see them.
Why do we not act like Jesus to them? Why do we walk on by for the twenty-first time?

(That’s not rhetorical! I want your opinion!)

P.S. It's been such a long time since I've heard this song (The Twenty-First Time by Monk and Neagle) on the radio!

Awesomesauce Words Continued!

In case you're wondering, Erin and Cassie... Let's just say I'm praying for them a lot. I ask that you keep them in your prayers too. 

This post has nothing to do with that. Originally, I had written a different post, but it (and the rewrite and the rewrite for the rewrite) came off horribly, so for now, you're going to have to enjoy some words stuffed with awesomesauce (I feel like that should be a recipe). Bon appetite!

“One superlatively important effect of wide reading is the enlargement of vocabulary which always accompanies it. The average student is gravely impeded by the narrow range of words from which he must choose, and he soon discovers that in long compositions he cannot avoid monotony. In reading, the novice should note the varied mode of expression practiced by good authors, and should keep in his mind for future use the many appropriate synonymes he encounters. Never should an unfamiliar word be passed over without elucidation; for with a little conscientious research we may each day add to our conquests in the realm of philology, and become more and more ready for graceful independent expression.

"But in enlarging the vocabulary, we must beware lest we misuse our new possessions. We must remember that there are fine distinctions betwixt apparently similar words, and that language must ever be selected with intelligent care. As the learned Dr. Blair points out in his Lectures, ‘Hardly in any language are there two words that convey precisely the same idea; a person thoroughly conversant in the propriety of language will always be able to observe something that distinguishes them,’” H.P. Lovecraft, known for writing “weird horror,” said.

I like vocabulary. A lot. Because of this, I’m continuing the Awesomesauce Words series that I started a while ago.

One must be drenched in words, literally soaked in them, to have the right ones form themselves into the proper pattern at the right moment. –Hart Crane

Obviously Disney’s Pinocchio.

Straight from the movie. :)

Mendacious-adjective-telling lies especially habitually; dishonest; lying; untruthful

Turpitude-noun-shameful wickedness; vile, shameful, or base character; a depraved act

In addition, moral turpitude is a legal concept that refers to conduct that is considered contrary to community standards of justice, honesty or good morals.


I walked up to my teacher and said, “The fire department had to come to our house last night. Everything was really frantic. Nothing burned down, but I wasn’t able to complete my homework.”
She stared at me for a minute. Since I knew she was trying to read my face, I kept it as emotionless as humanly possible. Another minute passed as she stared. I was sure I had her fooled now. I smiled, and in that smile she must have seen just a bit of turpitude, for she said, “Bria! Stop your mendacious behavior or else I will whip you with my displeasure!”

Ha. I like this story because this is what my english teacher really would say. Don’t worry, she wouldn’t literally whip me, but she would literally quote every piece of literature to her advantage. The whipping phrase comes from Ralph Waldo Emerson’s “Self-Reliance.” The full quote says, “For nonconformity the world whips you with its displeasure.”

What other literary quotes would you use to discipline me? How would you all use these words? (PLEASE use turpitude. I love how it sounds so much, but I have (thankfully) had very little opportunity to use it. Original ways to use it (so I can use it more!!)  would be GREATLY appreciated!)

Ashley Wrap-up: Letters to God

Several short letters to God. I was going to write an Ashley summary and not post these, but I think it’s important to see exactly how my mood, mindset, and attitude towards the situation changed. The more I prayed and earnestly sought God’s guidance, the more hopeful I became and the more realizations I had.

See if you see what I’m talking about:

April 27, 2011

Dear God,

Kristin just talked to us about Ashley. So did Zelda. I am not going into what they said. I walked away at 8:22. I started tearing up. I’m still tearing up. I don’t wanna cry.

I don’t agree with any of what Kristin and Zelda said. Zelda keeps blaming me for driving Ashley away. I can see how they see that, since they are just getting Ashley’s perspective. I am not driving Ashley away. Am I? How do I talk to someone who distances herself from me and answers with one word answers? How do I talk to that? Both Kristin and Zelda said we should support Ashley. I’m not saying we shouldn’t be friends with her and help her through this hard time, but I cannot support her actions! I can’t let her cuss and talk about the things she does! I don’t want to hear it! I can’t stand by and let her play with her boundaries and everything! I would like to be her friend and support her, but I can’t support her actions. I honestly don’t know if I can be her friend if she’s going to do everything I’m completely against…..

I’m not strong enough to be her friend right now. I don’t know if You want me to be her friend. I don’t know. I would guess You would, but I would need YOU so much and so obviously. I don’t know I if I can even be around her without breaking down crying, like I’m practically doing now.

I care about Ashley. I can’t stand her going down the wrong path. I don’t care if she’s “discovering herself” or whatever. I can’t do it. I realize I’m being completely selfish right now. Please feel free to correct me. I want to be her friend. I want to be there for her and help her through whatever stinkin’ stuff she’s going through! I don’t know that I can. Apparently, I’m making it worse and driving her away, so maybe I should just go away and leave her alone, so I stop making it worse. ?

Please give me peace. I don’t care if You tell me what to do right now. I just want the peace that You bring. I just want to remember (I remember. I just need a reminder) that You are in control. Please help us all through this. I’ll probably write another letter, but for now:

Bria.

April 27, 2011

Another letter, I know. I feel better now. Well, at least, I’m done crying. I sure hope so. Thank You for such great friends, who keep trying to make me feel better. Thank You for the peace I feel once again.

Umm. Not to get back into negative stuff, but at lunch Ashley didn’t even look at me. I’m pretty sure she’s mad at me. Honestly, I don’t know why she’s so mad. I only talked to her once about cussing. Once. She wasn’t mad right after we talked. But now, almost a week and a half later, now she’s mad!

Well, now it’s almost 1. I’m in art. I don’t know if I’m going to write more; I just felt like telling You I’m in art. Well, 10 minutes until social studies. Please help Zelda and I get along good. Help us to understand each other and just not take sides against each other. I don’t want this Ashley thing to break up the friendships I have with everyone (or anyone) else.

April 27, 2011

It’s now 9:10. It’s been about 15 minutes since I finished the last letter. Thank You for some peace and understanding. I realize that Ashley needs to learn her own way. No one ever listens when you try to tell them how to live. I realize that. I know that we should be there for Ashley no matter what. I will be there for Ashley no matter what. I refuse to support her cussing though. I’m fine with her “finding herself,” but I won’t put up with cussing. I can’t just back down and watch her ruin her life. I will be there, however.

It’s now 10:03. I’m in algebra. I was thinking about how I once told Ashley (in that valentine about 2 months ago) that we are unlikely friends, but somehow we are great friends. Apparently, I was wrong. Since neither one of us is being a very good friend to the other right now. They keep saying it’s me. That not entirely true. I admit it kinda is, but it’s not entirely. Ashley has been distancing herself from us (not just me) for months. I just realized these past few weeks that something was wrong with her/in her life. For months, Ashley has denied us the right she uses so much: the right to an opinion. The right to speak that opinion and have people listen civilly. I listen. I’ve always listened. She…doesn’t. I say something she doesn’t like and she will either stomp out or yell over me. Why doesn’t she listen to us (cause it’s not just with me)?!

April 29, 2011

Dear God,

It is almost noon. I am in bio. We’re watching a video about ecology. I’m pretty sure I know a lot of it, so that’s why I’m writing this now. I don’t know if it’s a good thing that Ashley didn’t sit with us today, but I thank You for it. I feel like a lot of the weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I know this pretty much means the end of our friendship, but honestly I didn’t want to be her friend anymore. She wasn’t being Ashley. She wasn’t being my friend. So I feel like this is a good thing, at least for me. So thank You for that. I just pray for Ashley. I pray that she won’t hold anything against me or any of the rest of us. I just pray that You will be with her as she “discovers herself.”

Love,

Bria

And that’s the end of the last letter about her. (I have tons more Letters to God though. Yay!!)

Did you notice the shift in my thinking? The new thoughts and constant realizations, even in the midst of such distress and trials, are the result of prayer.

One of my pastors once said that when you’re listening for God’s voice, you need to think of all the new realizations you’ve had. All of those revelations, especially the ones you know you would never have thought of, are from God! In the Ashley situation, God was changing my mind; I was listening, and He was speaking! Basically, I’ve learned to listen better to God and to friends.

Tune in next week for (drumroll): Something that I haven’t decided on yet! Yay! (:

Have a wonderful night and day and whatnot!

I Failed, and We Laugh

I am in advanced precal. I’m a junior in high school. This is 2 years above what most juniors at my school take. And precal has been EASY. Like I-am-practically-falling-asleep-in-class-because-I-don’t-have-to-pay-attention easy. This is what I have told everyone when they have asked about school. “Every new class of precal is the most boring day of my life” and “I finish my homework before the class is even over!” have been my favorite phrases lately.

Pride.

Cockiness.

Boastfulness.

They were oozing from every word I spoke.

Yesterday we had a pop open response. It shouldn’t have been a big deal. Except for the fact that everything I knew flew from my head. I stared at the paper and nothing came. I didn’t know how to answer 2/3s of the question. …Yup.

Basically, I typed some things on my calculator and made it look like I was working. I hoped I would find an answer that clicked, something that just made sense in the problem. Nope.

And I think God was laughing. As I am now (even though I’m pretty positive I failed that open response). That situation served to not only make me see my sin(s), but made me repent and change my ways quickly. I was wrong. Yes, I still believe precal is easy, but now it is a simple this-is-my-easiest-class easy. Yes, I still believe it is boring, but now I realize that nothing is an excuse to let my attention wander. And I have definitely learned to not boast about it. That will just make me look stupid (again).

Plus the Bible says:

Do not boast about tomorrow,

for you do not know what a day may bring.

Let someone else praise you, and not your own mouth;

an outsider, and not your own lips.

-Proverbs 27:1-2

Therefore, as it is written:

“Let the one who boasts boast in the Lord.”

-1 Corinthians 1:31

To sum this up: God has a sense of humor; I’m sure He was laughing. Don’t be prideful because He will knock you off your ledge in an instance, therefore bringing you back down to the level of humility you should be at. Which is the humility level of a servant (Philippians 2:7) or a slave (Romans 6:22).

This (humility) is something I am particularly bad at. So, Lord, help me have humility. Thank You for striping me of my current cockiness. Make my current state of humility last. Amen.