This blog post is a reflection on my 2nd draft of my narrative project where I changed the pov, tense, decision, and outcome. I used What is Fan Fiction -- and why is it making people nervous? (Stephen Downes) and Rewinding and Rewriting: The Alternate Universes in Our Head (Hidden Brain Podcast) to help me with this. Check out my narrative page to read my drafts.
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In this blog post, I will be editing and revising my post from blog post #5. I have read My Mother Gives me a Writing Lesson (Martin Lee) and My Name is Margaret and will use these pieces to compose my scene about a specific event that had a negative impact on my life.
“Come on Jim we’re heading to the train!” My buddy Ed yelled. It was the day of the concert and I was too excited. I could not be more happy then I was that day. Prepared to be surrounded by friends and good music. “Alright.” I replied as I put a water bottle of captain morgan in my pocket. Ed and I had drank the whole handle but I took the last bit to save for later. It never crossed my mind as being risky or wrong. A lot of people drink under the legal age and I was never caught or got in trouble so the consequences of doing it never really occurred to me either. So as I had done before I grabbed the bottle and went on my merry way out of the house. “Aye we’re here!” Ed said excitedly. The train ride went as quick as a snap of fingers. “Who are we seeing first?” I asked as we walked to the Ben Franklin Parkway. It was decided we would see the artist “gunna” first as we arrived a little after the first performance. We proceeded to the gate where security presented themselves like a brick wall to pat people down for anything not permitted in the concert. Ed was in front of me in line and while we waited I moved the bottle from my pocket to inside my nike shorts. “Next!” the security motioned towards Ed to come forward. Ed was patted and cleared. It was now my turn. I walked up and a man patted me down from top to bottom with his rough hands. I thought I was in the clear but I wasn’t. “Spread your legs.” the man said to me. I did so and the plastic water bottle hit the ground. “Another one.” he said to a police officer as he pointed to me. The officer gripped me on the arm tightly and a rush of nervousness shot through my body as he walked me to a holding bus. There I was, sitting in the back of that smelly crusty bus so enraged that I was getting in trouble for such a stupid reason. I was just sitting there questioning myself “why did I try to sneak in that bottle, why today, why me on a day that was supposed to be filled with fun and excitement.” After the anger left my body I went into a deep sadness. Not the type of sadness you have after you lose a family member, but the type of sadness you feel when a loved one says “I’m not mad, just disappointed.” I was disappointed, disappointed in myself. In this blog post, I will be composing a past scene in first person and past tense. I have read What You Don't Know (Lulu Wang) and My Name is Margaret and will use these pieces to compose my scene about a specific event that had a negative impact on my life.
I have recently made a decision that had a negative impact on my life. It happened on Sunday, September 2nd, 2018. I was sitting in my room the night of September 1st, playing Fortnite on Xbox One with some of my pals. In between dying in the game, I would check snapchat to see what everyone was doing at the time. Most of what I saw was snapchat posts of people at the Made In America concert that was happening that weekend in Philadelphia. I was so jealous I couldn’t go because I had gone the previous two years and had a blast both times but I had work. I then checked what time I had to be in work on Sunday but to my surprise I wasn’t even scheduled. I quickly went online to see how much tickets were for Sunday but I could only find package deals that were selling two tickets and I wasn’t paying for two if I was the only one going. So, I went on snapchat again and my buddy Ed put up a post asking who wanted to go to Made In America on Sunday and I contacted him. We talked it over and I bought the tickets with my debit card and he gave me half the price in cash the day of the concert. The day of the concert I woke up early to begin drinking (pregaming) before the concert. Ed and I along with other friends met up at our friend Paul’s house to do this. Together we drank a handle of Captain Morgan but I put the very last of it in a water bottle which turned out to be a costly mistake. We then walked to the train station where we waited for the train. The train picked us up at the Primos-Secane station around the time of the first performance of the day. I remember just having a blast being on the way to a concert with my friends. We got off the train and walked to the Ben Franklin Parkway where they were hosting the concert. We got in line to get searched for anything not allowed in the concert and I put the water bottle of Captain in my shorts. The security patted me down and I thought I was good but then they said “Spread your legs.” I did so and the bottle fell out of my shorts. A police officer then grabbed me and put me in a bus. Being eighteen at the time they gave me an underage drinking citation and I was not permitted into the concert. I attended court for the citation and I have to pay $200 and attend a class that ranges 2-4 hours. This will make the charge able to be expunged but it’s still on my record as of right now. Luckily my license was not suspended but in the end, yeah, bringing that bottle to the concert was definitely a decision that had a negative impact on my life. In this blog post, I will compose a present scene with dialogue and symbolism about having a fire outback of my house with friends. I will use Hills Like White Elephants (Ernest Hemingway) as an example of how to compose my scene. I will also use my background as a writer to compose my scene.
I sit on my basement couch excitedly as I wait for my friends to get here for a fire outback of my house for my birthday. All I’m thinking about is getting to be together just hanging out like old times. It’s hard to round up all the guys these days just simply because we are all getting older with more responsibilities and being away at college so only a few are coming but I’m okay with that. They get here one by one, each coming in my back door. “Jim, it’s only eight o’clock, I think we should wait a little longer to have the fire.” Nolan says. “I agree with Nol, hand me my forty.” Kyle says. Kyle took a sip of the 40 oz malt liquor and yells “This tastes like shit!” Then he puts it down. “I know it does Kyle but it’s cheap and gets the job done.” I reply. “So boys what did you do today before coming here?’’ Andrew asks. The rest of us reply simultaneously, “Work.” We drink the rest of what’s in our bottles and head towards the door. We exit the house and walk about thirty feet farther to the fire pit. I start the fire by lighting a duraflame log which went up in flames fairly quick and I put some birch wood on top to keep the flame going. “It’s already nine-thirty!” Andrew yells. “I know it’s crazy how time flies when you’re with your closest friends.” I reply and the fire starts to burn ferociously. “Some friends you guys are.” Nolan says smuggly. The fire dims. The rest of us look at each other and all turn to Nolan. I didn’t know how to respond to his smug remark but Kyle breaks the tension. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “I live thirty minutes away and you guys hardly come up to see me!” Nolan yells with anger as a piece of wood made a popping sound in the very dim fire. “Nolan we’re all on our own wave now and sorry it’s not our first priority to drive up to valley forge every weekend.” He looks at me in an understanding way and the fire starts to flare up again. “I just wish we could go back to when we had our house down the shore.” Nolan says sadly. “I know bro we all do, and that’s why we gotta enjoy this moment here and not waste it away with arguing.” Andrew says in a soothing voice. The fire was raging and the tip of the flame was reaching above our heads. I crack open another forty and Kyle says “Aye! It’s twelve o’five Jim. Happy Birthday!” The rest of the guys wish me happy birthday too and I reply “Thanks guys, glad it was with all of you.” The fires blaze got to its highest point. I have recently taken up running/jogging as a way to stay physically fit, clear my mind, and relieve stress. In this blog post of “Composing A Present Scene” I will appeal to all five senses through writing about my running/jogging and the daily things I feel and observe while I do it.
My first steps out of the backdoor and the stuffy dusty inside air exhales out of my lungs and in comes the fresh outside air. My feet then start to step faster back and forth as I ease into a light jog. The rap music playing out of my old Apple headphones is playing on max volume. This isn’t the only thing I hear though. I can hear the wind hitting the inside of my ears as I run against it. I can also feel the wind on my face but it’s hot out so it’s like a blow dryer blowing out hot air on top of me already being hot from exercising. As I pass the old elementary school I used to attend, I start to feel the moisture run down my face and body. I lick my lips because they are as dry as a desert and I get an unpleasant taste of salty sweat. My 18 karat gold chain starts to rub against my neck. This rubbing combined with the sweat starts to irritate my neck and it turns red like a tomato. My ragged shoelace becomes untied and I pause for a moment to retie it. I feel the rough concrete on my knee as I use it as support to tie my shoe. On my route, I see an assortment of stores to acquire a drink to quench my thirst. My mouth is so dry it’s all i can think about. Something worse hits me though, the smell. Among these stores are two pizza shops and one chinese food restaurant. I can smell the fresh aroma of pizza as people put them in their cars to deliver or take home and enjoy for themselves. I don’t get a drink or food though as I pass too quickly by the time I decide to stop I’m already too far. As I enter the final stretch, I find myself staring down Baltimore Pike. I smell gas and exhaust as a result of all of the vehicles. It gets a little harder to breathe at this point. I compare it to standing in a room of people smoking cigarettes. I slow my pace down as I run down the hill so I don’t go to fast and fall. It’s bittersweet going down that hill because all the fast food restaurants are lit in the dark night and it’s beautiful and vibrant, but again I get that aroma of food which tempts me. I then realize I’m almost home where a free and healthier option is available. I get into my alley where the concrete is cracked and broken. I stay on the sides where they are decently safer to prevent myself from breaking an ankle. I pass all the parked cars that seem almost like they are sleeping, like some people at this point in the night. The decks on the back of the homes are like checkpoints, every time I pass one, I’m closer to my destination, home. I finally arrive at that destination with the sweat dripping, music still blaring, and thirsty as ever ready to replenish and shower then sleep till the adventures of the next day. |
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