and so it begins

Mission: St. Louis

2009-03-17T00:05:00.000-07:00

Day Three (Monday, March 16, 2009)

From here on out we will be serving God in an extremely hands on approach. Long days are taking a toll on a lot of us already, and for whoever is reading this post I pray that God will give you the strength to make it through the rest of the day/week and that He will meet all your needs and continue to sustain you throughout our time here in St. Louis.

As always, we started off the day with 8 a.m. devotionals which today was led by Ryan. Devotionals provide a way for the team to prepare our hearts and minds for the rest of the day and to give us a reminder of who should be at the center of our lives. After devotional we then got a chance to meet Pastor Josh and some other members of Mission St. Louis who went through the history of MStL and what being missional actually looks like. James Amos was the director of Empowerment who talked about relocating to the neighborhood in which you're actually trying to reach. At Hill Country being able to reach out to our dorm and to our people group is a sure fire way to drawing people into your life, and more relevantly who you live for.

After talking for a little bit about relating what MStL is doing in their community back to our community our team split up and half of us got a chance to get some more free time and make dinner with one another and the other half of us were actually able to go into the community in which we toured earlier and talk to individuals who were hanging out on their porches.

Personally, I will be the first to admit that I was practically in tears when I was told that I had to go out and engage people and actually talk to them. I was scared senseless and had a complete loss of confidence. However, good 'ole Daniel was able to stick close to me and reassure me that they're just people. Just like you and me, and we all have similar needs that can be met both immediately (with physical food) and in the long term spiritually by accepting the ultimate sacrifice, our daily bread, Jesus Christ.

Being able to just get involved with these people and hearing their stories was definitely one of the highlights of the trip so far. I can't believe I lived my entire life in such ignorance of the divisions within our own cities. I can't imagine living in a world where I can't cross the street into another part of town because I might get shot. The need for a sense of security is definitely a huge part of this town, but we constantly need to reevaluate what the needs of our city looks like. Just off the top of my head I can think about depravity, loneliness, self-confidence, and acceptance as needs which some UT students live every day of their life.

What will it take for us to get off our butts and engage in our own community? What will it take for us to take the first step in talking to someone we don't even know and dealing with the awkwardness of the situation? How can we best serve God and what does that look like on campus? By learning from these people in St. Louis and by serving their basic needs we can begin to assess what it is students put their worth in, and what it is, as believers and as a church, we can meet for our fellow students.

Change is coming. We're called to be at the forefront of change, living a life that makes people wonder and ask "What is it that they have, that I don't?" As students, our daily actions and the way we reach out to the communities we find ourselves in is a public expression of our faith in our Lord Jesus Christ and what he did for us, while we were still sinners. We are all in need of a Savior.

Your sister in Him,

Joanna

Verse of the Day: Ephesians 4: 1-7

"I therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit—just as you were called to the one hope that belongs to your call— one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all. But grace was given to each one of us according to the measure of Christ's gift."

The Journey

2009-03-16T23:25:00.000-07:00

Day Two (Sunday, March 15, 2009)

Back in the early days, Christians before they were actually called "Christians" were referred to in the Greek as "the way, or the path, or the journey." Today we had the opportunity to actually go to two amazing services at the church we're partnering with called "The Journey" and listen to both Pastor Darrin and Pastor John preach about giving and being called to sacrifice and what it looks like to live at a level that God provides.

What would this world look like if we were all a little bit less self-centered? If for once in our lives it wasn't all about us? If we had a whole body of people acting in the best interests of others and not themselves, what would change look like? Both pastors at The Journey related this change back to our pocketbooks. So often we either spend too much, or save too much, and we give too little to the things in life that matter. Essentially, the things that matter is our church and our community.

If, as college students, we can learn to live generously with our money, then other people will start to take notice. If we are able to say tithing to the church is something I can easily spend a hundred dollars on, then we are assigning value and worth to things not necessarily of this world but of things that further God's kingdom. If through our actions we can portray the love we have for Christ by the love we have for the church, then good things will come of it. Revival and growth are two things that are rarely used to describe the modern day church. In America especially students need to extend their generosity to the church and to others around them in an authentic way that says "I'm here to serve you."

So basically that's what we learned both at the morning service and the evening service. We did get to have some free time toward mid-afternoon and we had the opportunity to spend time together as a group in the park just posing in front of the Arch and playing random games that gave people like myself really large bruises on their ankles (calling out Dani on this one!) But I'd have to say just being able to enjoy the evening eating at Chipotle and ending with some deliciously smooth gelato was the perfect end to Day Two.

Until tomorrow, yours in Him,

Joanna Lynn. (ha, that rhymed)

Verse of the Day: Malachi 3:10

"Bring the full tithes into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. And thereby put me to the test, says the Lord of hosts, if I will not open the windows of heaven for you and pour down for you a blessing until there is no more need."

Party Van v. Sleeper Van

2009-03-16T22:40:00.000-07:00

Day One (Saturday, March 14, 2009)

What it do. It's yo girl, Jhttp://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=32953132&postID=870557779661590492.D. from the hood hollerin' atcha from StL. Today was crazy. Picture this, 16 hours of driving from the ATX all the way to StL (aka St. Louis). Two vans. As we all know, I was in the crazy van, or shall I say the party/movie van.

We decided to do some team bonding by getting out Ms. Kelly's laptop and starting the day off right with a lil bit of V for Vendetta. After that most inspiring and saddening of films we decided some comedy was in order and popped in Pineapple Express. Now you might ask: Aren't you supposed to be on a mission trip? Well my friend, we had 16 hours to kill, what would you do with that much time? After a quick bite to eat at Quiznos we decided to take the drive home with good 'ole 300.

Meanwhile in Van #2, they were having a ball just sleeping the day away. Naturally, Day One was spent mostly in the van and I have to say I definitely saw some interesting relationships pop up. There was most assuredly some Daniel and Eric love. Now you gotta understand, Daniel likes to sing, get down, and drop it like it's hot. Eric on the other hand is chill. I mean real chill. Literally... the guy is from Alaska. Eric is the type of guy who in a van full of people singing "Ain't No Mountain High Enough" is sitting in the corner shaking his head asking why God would put him in a van with such crazy people. Of course, Daniel would consistently tell Eric to break it down with the boys and get dirty... but unfortunately for this story, he never did. One day though, it will happen.

Finally, we get to our hotel, and are able to chill and have some quite time. Everyone is exhausted and yet every night we have these things called "devo's" or basically devotionals where as a group we get together and just go over what has happened throughout the day and how we can apply it to our lives. At the end of all this, as a group, we hope to take what we learn here, from Mission St. Louis to UT Austin and reach out to other students and friends in an authentic, God-centered way, that touches the hearts of people around us. This is our mission, this is our goal, and throughout the week I'll be filling you guys in on what's the latest scoop and how we're applying it to our lives. Peace out kids.

-J.D.

Quote of the day: (ducks flying in V formation across the sky...)

Amelia: "Wow, that's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
Daniel: (pulling out imaginary shotgun) "You know (Nathan) if you go 65 I think I might be able to get a head shot."

good morning

2007-12-11T08:02:00.000-08:00

I HATE POP-UPS.

Lately, I've been getting A LOT of them, and I feel bad for my poor computer because it was probably me that gave it to him. :(

Anyway, school's out and I'm having fun being bored... alright maybe that was a lie. I have fun relaxing and watching movies and not even thinking about the final I have on Friday :/. Although I really should get started on that. There are loads of good movies on tonight... or throughout the day, I don't know how I'll possibly choose between them all.

In other news, I've been cleaning my room, so hopefully by the end of this week it'll look somewhat decent. Other than that there's not much going on... until next time...

Artist: Nate Sallie
Song: Ruined For Ordinary

pirates

2007-12-04T13:57:00.000-08:00

So today was the end of my last Psychology class, I actually CRIED! Seriously, Professor Gosling and Pennebaker are the most amazing professors I've ever had... I was so blessed to be in that class. I can only hope that next semester will be just as touching.

So here I am in the Millenium Lab of the Business School and I should really be studying, as always... but writing can be really relaxing you know? Anyways, tomorrow is Wednesday, that means there's going to be Poetry on the Plaza, my last CMS class, AND my Phl 304 FINAL TEST (eek)... wish me luck!!

Love: Joanna

Music: Soundtracks to Grease and Pirates of the Caribbean and Sound of Music and Phantom of the Opera

just goin' on's.

2007-12-02T17:04:00.000-08:00

So I have three tests comin' up this week. Only one final though, so that makes me happy. I really should be studying, but you know how that can go ):

Anywhoo, Facebook is acting up, I can't seem to connect tonight, which makes me a wee bit sad. However, that means I'll probably spend a good less 30 minutes doing whatever online, which is a good thing. Tonight I'm going to a PaRTAY! At my workplace... we're DECORATING! Yuppers... it should be fun. Righteo mate, I think that's all for tonight.

Song: Speechless
Artist: The Veronicas

Dear Ms. Martinez

2007-11-28T15:57:00.000-08:00

If you want to see a creative writing sample that I did in high school I encourage you to either read my piece titled "I Want" that you can find if you scroll down the page. OR to read a portion of my fictional piece titled "Signed With Love," that I consider to be my best piece from that class. That post can be found when you click the September 2006 link on the left hand side of the page under "Archives."

Both are relatively long, so unless you are so engrossed into the piece, any section of the pieces should be able to show my love for writing. Hope you enjoy!

Sincerely: Joanna

Blogging from a UT perspective

2007-11-28T15:21:00.001-08:00

So, I went to a blogger info. session at UT today, and it was very informative and pretty awesome. It feels GREAT to get back into the swing of things on the lines of blogging (I can't believe my last post was so many months ago o_O). So here I am at PCL thinking about my first semester of college and realizing that everything in life, even something as amazing as college, has it's ups and downs.

I don't think high school students fully realize the change that will occur when they go to a university. College, is nothing like high school. The atmosphere is different, expectations are higher, classes are informal, and in actual reality you're pretty much on your own for the first couple weeks of college. It's pretty awkward the first time you call one of your new college friends to get together for lunch because it's at that 'in-between' stages where y'all are kind of friends, but not really. Change in college is a huge factor, and it's not easy.

That's why I'm so looking forward to going to Alumni Day in January. It'll be great to see all my old teachers and my junior (now senior) friends again. I want to be able to share to all my senior buddies that it's nothing like you expect. I graduated second in class and yet I'm making a C and three B's, that's NOTHING like what I anticipated. You think it's gonna be easy, and that you're going to have a jolly good time but once you start getting those test grades back, it's like a slap in the face. The most important lesson you will learn your first semester in college is how to manage your time. This is an essential skill that I urge all my fellow high schoolers to master now, instead of having to weasel your way toward a B the last couple weeks of the semester.

Also, your social life changes too. I had about twenty to thirty other Akins graduates come with me to UT, but DAYS go by when I don't see a single one. It's a definite relief when you can see a familiar person in a "Sea of Faces". Unless you're dorming with a friend, your interests really do expand in the social world. As a last note, a fair warning to those who want to jump into all the exciting student organizations. Please, please, please know your limits. Your first semester is NOT the time to experiment with a 12-15 hour class load and 2-3 organizations. At most, have one organization that you are committed to and a level amount of class hours that you personally feel as if you can handle. You'll quickly learn how to balance work and play in the college scene, and if you don't, then it's "Si-Ya-Nara" (i think that means goodbye... right?)

Anywhoo: it's goodbye for now... I have to do an assignment for my Psychology class (which I HIGHLY recommend... take Profs. Gosling & Pennebaker)... hopefully this post will be the first in a line of more consistent ones. Take Care Readers!

Many Hugs:
Joanna.

Artist: Kutless
Song: Sea of Faces

Writing Exercise #4 (photo inspiration)

2007-05-01T16:27:00.000-07:00

The concrete felt cool against his hot body.

"I must be a sore sight to see," thought Jacob. The obviously curious glances and at times hostile ones confirmed Jacob's thoughts.

"Oh Well, he muttered, I don't care any more. Let them stare, they don't know what they're missing."

Jacob stared up at the cloudy blue sky and laid with his arms wide open, palms up, feet splayed sideways to think about the events that had played out over the course of the day. His briefcase laid strewn open with its contents fluttering lightly in the breeze, and his three piece suit was indeed in three pieces, just not on him. The enormous buildings towered over him taunting his underachievements, laughing at what they saw.

"Oh shut up. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking I'm not good enough. Well you know what? Maybe you're right. I Quit. I quit you and your stupid elevators that start and stop at every freaking floor while I'm trying to rush to my internship. I quit you and your idiotic receptionist that obviously doesn't know how to do her job considering the fact that a receptionist is someone who recieves visitors and what does she do when she sees me? Nothing! I don't even get a good morning! I quit you and your ridiculous mirror windows that probably kill a good amount of birds a day considering they reflect the trees across the street. I Quit. Good Riddance."

Jacob continued to mutter these thoughts angrily to himself as he stared up at the obstacles weighing him down. What had before inspired him to pursue his internship at the broker's office now towered over him reminding him of how little he truly was.

"Damn You."

He closed his eyes and his thoughts took him back to the days of his youth, when cutthroat competition was a game he mastered, and easy acces to the top was like taking candy from a baby...

Writing Exercise #3 (adjective: juicy)

2007-05-01T15:49:00.000-07:00

As she slowly sat peeling the skin of her juicy Reb Ruby grapefruit Angela contemplated on how different college was from high school. The atmosphere, professors, relationships, scheduling, dress, people, and priorities were radically different from what she had expected. Being a senior in high school and taking college classes alongside her regular classes made those differences stick out even more than normal. But Angela enjoyed the freedom she had in her college classes and embraced those differences with an open mind and joyful heart.

On a particular stormy class day, Professor Collis dissmissed the class early so that everyone could arrive safetly home before the big storm hit.

"Oh that sucks," thought Angela. "Now I'll have to wait here for another hour before my mom can pick me up from work." She gathered her things with a sour look on her face and made her way out of class. "Stupid weather," she muttered bitterly, "always manages to screw me over somehow."

"Oh Yeah? How's that?"

Angela was startled out of her gloom as she turned to see who had overheard her. A young man she had not seen before, not much older than her was looking at her curiously awaiting an answer.

"Oh, I didn't know you heard that. Well, I mean I'll have to wait here for an hour while the storm hits before my mom can come pick me up."

"Is that right? Well, you won't have to wait alone. I ride the city bus, you know, to save gas and all and it won't be here for another hour as well. Suppose we brave this storm together?"

"Uh, sure. But my mom told me never to talk to strangers so i don't know how this is going to work really."

"Hm, let me think. Oh I got it, it's a pleasure to meet you, I'm Gabe. There, now you know who I am."

Despite the obvious cliche of the statement Angela couldn't help but smile and shake his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you Gabe, I'm Angela."

"So, where to now? Definitely not outside right? How about the library? I'm not much of a reader but I find comfort in the silence of a library, I don't know why, I just do... weird huh?"

"Not really," she responded, "I can see where you're coming from, and I'd love to go to the library. Unlike you, I can lose myself in between pages, maybe I can show you my favorite book."

"Oh yeah? And that would be what?"

"Well, you'll just have to see now won't you," she says with a grin.

As Angela and Gabe enter the library a crack of thunder is heard and the lights flicker.

"Wow, Gabe says, now that one was juicy, wouldn't you agree?"

"Are you crazy? You sure got a wacked up sense of adjectives. That was a loud awakening, it was most certainly not juicy, now hurry up before these lights go completely out, I want to show you my book!"

Writing Exercise #2 (Sentence Starter)

2007-05-01T09:14:00.000-07:00

"It was Sunday, and there shouldn't have been a letter in the mailbox, but there was."

Sandy slipped her fingers over the mail, feeling the grains within, she had never before checked the mail on Sunday’s, but today she woke up feeling different, and as she set her feet on the hardwood floor she automatically headed over to the mailbox. Feeling her way past the doorway and seeing with her hands and feet was she able to make it to the front of her home. Slowly she slipped her fingers underneath the flap and gently lifted out the letter, the raised bumps on the page surprised her more than the actual letter had.

Her fingers flew over the bumps and they said: “Hello, my name is Michael, and I am your guardian angel. I left a gift for you at your doorstep, go see what it is, I know you’ll like what I got for you. His name is Swann by the way.”

For some reason Sandy didn’t disregard this as a phony letter and as she arrived at her doorstep she found a wet nose, fuzzy face, and wriggling body awaiting her.

Writing Exercise #1 (5 W's)

2007-05-01T08:51:00.000-07:00

It was a normal day like any other, Johnny was so excited because today was the day. The day little Johnny had been waiting for his whole itty bitty life. The day of the science fair… dun dun dun. He had been working on his volcano for over a month now and I know what you’re probably thinking, a volcano?, but no, this wasn’t any ordinary volcano it was the biggest, baddest, and most explosive volcano in third grade history. As Johnny prepared to take his volcano to school, across the street, Danny boy was preparing his too.

Unbeknownst to these two little boys was the fact that they both had chose to make the volcano as their science project, and at the exact moment Danny walked out his front door, Johnny across the street did too, each holding their own volcano.

“Oh no he didn’t,” Johnny gasped. His eyes narrow to little slits and his breathing gets faster. Their eyes meet and the immediate hatred felt towards each other for both having created the same thing almost caused the volcanoes to blow. You must know, Johnny and Danny, living across from each other their whole lives had always competed against each other to be the better of the two. But today Johnny wasn’t gonna let little Danny take away his thunder. Oh no, Johnny felt it was time to put little Danny in his place.

Three hours later at school, the clever police officer tripped over the body in the broom closet right before the science fair. It was the body of little Danny.

I Want (all of it)

2007-04-23T11:32:00.000-07:00

You know what I want?

I want to come up with the most brilliant salutatorian speech and deliver it to my class with perfection, flawlessness, and a certain ease that everyone (especially the magna cum laudi aka the third in class) envies.

I want a standing ovation after I finish, that starts with a slow clap and ends with lots of whistles and foghorns going off. And I want to be able to look at the section where my family is sitting and see the words “We Love Joanna” in big bold letters.

I want to be able to look at the sea of faces that is the class of 2007 and be able to see a handful of my closest friends looking up at me with brilliant smiles that will fill me with joy and pride.

On my way back to my seat I want to trip and fall on my face in these ridiculously priced high heels that I practiced walking in while vacuuming my house. I want the camera to capture the intense look of embarrassment and fear that flashes across my face and I want to see that face again and again that night as graduation ceremonies repeat themselves on PBS.

I want to be able to laugh about my mistakes and learn from them, even though I know I’ll only repeat them in the future.

I want to experience my first kiss in high definition, and pull a Drew Barrymore and say to my Adam Sandler: “There’s nothing like a first kiss.” And I want him to know what I’m talking about and say: “That’s what I’ve heard.” I want him to be kind and beautiful and perfect in every way shape and form and I want him to be all wrong for me.

I want to love him with all my heart and have it broken. No, not into a million pieces, but only in half, so that the next time I love I’ll be able to sew up the broken halves and love again. I want to tell myself that the next time around I’ll be more careful and guard my heart, no more will I be boy-crazy Joanna, but calm and collected, so that the next time Prince Charming attempts to sweep me off my feet I won’t be so easily wooed.

I want to be calm and collected until one night when I make the mistake of going to a college frat party with a couple other girls. This is when the wild side of me comes out, you know, the one no-one’s ever seen before, yeah, that one. I want to have one too many drinks and pass out on someone’s couch where I almost get taken advantage of but don’t because one of my high school buddies recognizes me and takes me to his apartment where he gently lies me on his couch, covers me with a blanket, gives me a kiss on the forehead, and whispers softly in my ear: “Sweet dreams beautiful,” before turning off the light and going to sleep in his bed.

I want to wake up from this strange place and almost scream before I see my Prince sleeping soundly, curled up on the floor, as if attempting to guard me against harm but miserably failing and succumbing to sleeps soft slumber. I want to take the blanket he’s given me, cover him, kiss him on the cheek and say: “Wake Up beautiful.” But I don’t. Because I obviously have a huge hangover from the night before. Instead, I want to wake up with a massive headache and tell myself: “Joanna, you’re an f’ing idiot.” I want to look at my phone and see that I have 100 missed calls and know before even looking that half are from my dad, a quarter from my mom, and a quarter from the girls I went out with that are freaking out and wondering where I’m at. I want to lay there on my friend’s couch, not knowing where I’m at, but knowing I am safe and I want to have an epiphany and realize that life cannot truly be lived until you get drunk for the first time.

After four years of courting my high school friend who by the way was not my high school sweetheart because I wasn’t allowed to date in high school, I want to gasp in sweet surprise when he proposes on the day of our graduation from the Red McCombs School of Business at UT. I want to get married within a couple of months and do the dirty dirty on our wedding night and I want it to feel really really really good. Which I know it would, considering it’ll be my first time and I won’t have anything to compare it to.

About a year or two later, I want to be able to watch my son grow in my womb, I’ll see his tiny fingers and tiny toes, I’ll feel him kicking in my stomach, and I want to feel as if this child was what I’ve been waiting for my whole life. Four months later, I want to find out what it’s like to lose a child. I want to have my baby boy, whom I’ve already named Tristan, to be taken from me without any warning, and I want to cry like I’ve never cried before, and feel an overwhelming sadness that puts me in a depression for six months. But then one day, I wake up feeling a bit nauseous, and after feeling like this for a couple weeks, I want to go to the doctor and find out I’m having twins. Baby boys, and this time, I want to pray to God to let me keep them, and he does.

I want Micah and Jeremiah to grow up to be the exact opposites of each other. Micah will take after me, he’ll be a studious straight A student, who strives to please my husband and I, along with the Lord, and whose only struggle in life will be deciding which shirt he’ll wear to impress Katie who lives next door. I want Jeremiah to be my little rebel. He shuns authority, and the words I say go through one ear and out the other. At sixteen years of age I want Jeremiah to claim that he is now an atheist, and believes there is no God. He’ll listen to what I consider devil music and he’ll lose his virginity to a girl five years older than him. I want to find this out by walking in on him when this is happening, and I want them both to feel really embarrassed. I want to be able to keep my cool however and say: “Young lady, you had best get off my son before I pull you off of him.” She’ll cover her naked body with a blanket and as my son walks past me I want to say to him: “You better remember how good that felt because as long as you live under my roof you’re never going to feel it again.”

Jeremiah somehow manages to make it through high school, and they both graduate and get to walk the stage, Micah being top in his class of course. I send Micah off to Harvard to become a lawyer, and Jeremiah, being the bad-ass that he is decides to enlist in the Army. Once my sons leave I want to feel like I’ve lost half my heart, but I know my husband and I will finally have a little time to ourselves. With the money we’ve saved up over the years I want to travel the world, and I want to grow old with my husband. On the day my husband and I celebrate our twenty-fifth anniversary I want to get a call from Micah and I want him to tell me that he just proposed to his girlfriend. They’re getting married in three weeks. And I want to think: “Finally, he’s found someone that makes him a little more of a man.”

In a couple years I want to find out I’m going to be a grandma and my dear Jeremiah will come home a captain. I want his years of service in the military to have taught him values that his father and I couldn’t instill in him his whole life, and when he comes home I want Jeremiah to shake his father’s hand, look him straight in the eye and say: “It’s good to be home.” And then I want him to give me a kiss on the cheek and say: “I missed you Mom.”

I want my sons to grow up and have their own families and live their own lives, but with my husband and I as a main part. One fine day I want to die, no, not in my sleep, but doing something I love to do. I want to finally meet my maker in heaven and be like: “Dang, so this is what I was missing.” I want to waltz around on golden roads and say: “So whassup?” to Abe Lincoln and I want to have tea with Princess Diana and eat food without getting fat all day long.

I want my husband to join me in heaven about a year or two later, after I get all the partying outta my system. Oh yeah, I also want to see my two dogs, Franny and Snickers there too. I know, I know, animals don’t have souls so therefore they couldn’t possibly go anywhere except stay in the ground but I’d like to think my puppies were angel enough to go to heaven. I want heaven to be all that and more and I want to chill with Jesus and ask him to take care of my boys for me. And I want him to say: “Fo sho.”

The End

I Want Exercise

2007-04-03T09:10:00.000-07:00

Rhythm in Elizabeth Crane's piece is created much through the use of repeated phrases starting with "I Want..." Shifts occur between simple "I Want" phrases as compared with longer "I Want" phrases that go off of on tangents within themselves, this creates a certain slow/fast pace that the reader picks on. Usually in these "I Want" phrases they mirror shifts in tone as well, because the subject matter switches... sometimes from happy to sad or past to present to future.
The author surprises the reader with shifts from seemingly innocent fun to more tragic and emotional material, this too is where shifts in both tone and pace occur.

2007-03-28T09:22:00.000-07:00

Historical Fiction Piece

My name is John Sargis and I am here to tell you about my story. It is one full of pain, suffering, terror, and death. But it is also one of hope.

It all started on a night I shall never forget when I, along with my cousin Joseph, were awakened from our beds and told to fly to Russia. It was on the night of January 16 at
11:30, I can remember it as if it were yesterday…

“Wake up children, quietly now, get your things, only what you can carry. John, wake up your cousin, hurry child, we don’t have much more time.”

As I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes I turned to see my aunt hastily putting things into a brown burlap sack, I reached over to shake Joseph but stopped because he was already awake. We looked at each other and the questions in my mind were reflected in his eyes. But we both knew better than to ask, with the recent news of murders of other Assyrians in neighboring villages we knew the journey ahead would be one that would change our lives forever.

Taking only this small writing journal and a fountain pen received from my grandfather I hurried to help my aunt and my mother pack necessities that we needed for the journey ahead. From my small village in Eurmia, Persia, we would travel many miles on foot to American missionaries in Russia that would eventually lead my cousin and I to a journey to America.

“John, it is time. Put away that foolishness, let us keep moving on.”

I closed my journal and looked up at my cousin, now twenty-six years old, his frowning features were accentuated by deep creases in his brow, a result of our hardships over the years. He did not understand the importance of what I was doing, how our story was important to future generations. He did not understand how easily people forget.

“Have patience with me cousin, this is all I have to offer this world.”

“This world, this world is not where we belong John, we have traveled here to this ‘great county’ as so many call it and we have nothing to show for it. We have left our beloved parents in Russia to find friends here who are like ghosts. This world is nothing.”

I was confused by his anger, it is true that we have yet to find who we are looking for, friends of the family that moved here long before the concept of America entered our thoughts. And yet here great things are possible, dreams never imagined have a chance at becoming reality.

Basic Outline:

John, Joseph, and their parents are going to go on this journey from their home to Russia. John will be going from past to present throughout the story. He’ll be telling about his journey to Russia that led him on a journey to America. On the journey to Russia my conflict will be an attack on the group of people traveling to Russia, John will lose some friends and family members. The conflict in America is finding a home for his parents to come to. Both John and Joseph have a limited amount of money, and cannot find the friends they’ve been looking for.

my screenplay (but not really)

2007-02-02T08:16:00.000-08:00

1 INT. INSIDE A DARK SINISTER LOOKING CAR –SUNSET 1

It's sunset. There are three guys sitting inside a slab with tinted windows. Two black guys are sitting in the front seat, while a white guy occupies the back seat. It's quiet. Slowly the DRIVER turns and hands the WHITE GUY an Uzi pistol.

WHITE GUY
*Whistles slowly* Damn. We can do some hell
of a lot of damage with this.

DRIVER
You. You can do a hell of a lot of damage with
that.

DRIVER turns back around and starts the engine. He looks at WHITE GUY in rearview mirror.

DRIVER
You ready?

WHITE GUY
Hell ya, let’s get this fool.

2 INT. HOME OF MARQUIS ANDERSON 2

A young GIRL is silently staring out the front window into the street, a solitary tear makes its way down her face, and she hurriedly wipes it away. The camera pans in to focus on the goose bumps on her skin. She shivers involuntarily and turns at the sound of footsteps. The camera turns with her, so that you never see her face.

MARQUIS ANDERSON
You have to stop worrying about him. He’ll be fine.

GIRL
I can’t help it Mark, I just can’t stop thinking that
he’s out there somewhere about to hurt someone.

GIRL stands and walks over to hug MARQUIS, he silently comforts her.

MARQUIS ANDERSON
Hey, you’re so cold.

MARQUIS takes off his green hoodie and hands it to her. She slips it over her head, and lets the hood hang. The camera’s lens is focused on the face of Marquis, in this scene you never see the entirety of the GIRL’S face. She turns to walk out the door, putting her hand on the knob, and on second thought reaches back to cover her face with the hood, casting an ominous shadow across her face.

GIRL (turning)
Thanks for everything Mark, you’ve always been
there for me.

GIRL runs back to give MARQUIS a light kiss on the cheek. She strokes his face with her hand and walks out the door. A shot is heard, and GIRL falls to her knees. MARQUIS runs to GIRL as a slab with tinted windows screeches off. Suddenly the slab stops a few meters away from the house. MARQUIS runs out the back door fearing for his life, leaving the GIRL. A WHITE GUY gets out of car and runs to GIRL. The slab drives off. WHITE GUY comes up to GIRL and camera shows his eyes widen in shock and despair. He falls to his knees and cups the GIRLS face in his hands as he begins to cry.

ESOSM three questions

2007-01-31T08:26:00.000-08:00

Describe any interesting, troublesome or thought provoking examples of characterization or plot from Eternal Sunshine.

-characterization: Mary really turns into a main catalyst for change at the end of the movie, her character helps everyone else realize the reality of what they had done.
-plot: everything that happened at the beginning of the movie ends up being what happens at the end, after Clementine and Joel erased each other from their memories. They meet again, seemingly proving that the Mind Erasing was pointless.

Describe at least one technique you want to try in you screenplay.

Voiceover: of a guy's thoughts about a girl and vice versa. How he might look at her out of the corner of his eye and think thoughts said outloud to the viewer.

Describe one aspect of Eternal Sunshine that won't work in the short format.

Subplot: you can't have a plot within a plot that ties intricately within the other, it won't work in the short time frame you have for a screenplay.

...i guess...

2007-01-26T08:38:00.000-08:00

a girl being in a boy's body and vice versa (classic Freaky Friday stuff)

a dream becoming reality

the love of your life loving someone else

seeing someone you care about die

white kid, raised well, never exposed to dangers of the ghetto, submerged into all black school where his eyes are opened to the kind of hell people go through in life

anti-war young man/woman getting drafted and the what they secretly do to rebel

living in a society where emotion is kept under control

fraternity life at the extreme

living in a world without music

being in a bank when it's getting robbed, and finding a way to get the bad guys

"Eternal Sunshine" questions

2007-01-26T08:04:00.000-08:00

Some ways that the writer (Charlie Kaufman) created character in the movie are through the use of direct and indirect characterization.

The audience gets to know Joel when he directly says: "Why do I fall in love with every woman who pays me the least bit of attention?" (or something like that). This direct characterization lets us know that Joel is a man who hasn't become accostomed to a woman's gaze on him, he's shy, insecure, and falls hopelessly in love very easily. When Joel meets Clementine for the first time on the train we see indirect characterization through his actions toward her... not much eye contact, excuses for not talking to her, shying away when she gets near him, etc, etc.

The audience gets to know Clementine when she directly says: "I can be a cold hard b****." (or something like that). This direct characterization lets us know that Clementine sees herself as well... a person that can be both sweet and caring, and cold and hard. When Clementime meets Joel for the first time we see indirect characterization through her actions toward him... being extremely forward, not afraid to get intimate, constantly talking, very crazy, etc, etc.

I believe I'll be able to use direct characterization mostly, indirect not so much. Becuz the screenplay will only be ten minutes long, I won't have enough time to drop hints for the audience to figure out who my characters are by themselves.

Some ways that the writer (Charlie Kaufman) handled the plot was through exposition in the movie. The conflict of Clementine erasing Joel from her memory and vice-versa is shown through flashbacks in time, the climax occuring when Joel realizes what she has done, and then finding out that Patrick, one of the technicians erasing his memory, is now with Clementine. All this is shown through Joel's out of body experiences throughout the whole process of erasing his memory.

Some limitations regarding plot in a short film is that you don't have the luxury of time. Therefore, your plot can't be as intricate as that in "Eternal Sunshine," you can't get that indepth with your characters and everything has to be upfront so that the audience can leave feeling that they understood what your movie was all about.

Screenplay Writing

2007-01-11T08:05:00.000-08:00

Writing the Short Film

What is the rule of thumb for the length of a movie/ number of pages of the script?
~Feature film screenplays = 120 pages (2 hours) / Short screenplay = 1 minute - 40 minutes [1 page = 1 minute of screenplay]
What are the major ways that short films differ from feature films?
~based on situation not story
~no elaborate plot structure

Conceiving Our Story

What is the "Dramatic Moment" in the film?
~"Papa, papa, why do you drink?" And his father slurringly answers, "Because of Mama."
What are the major conflicts/ questions in "Because of Mama?
~How did Papa become an alcoholic? What emotions does he feel?
~Where is Mama? Why did she leave? Who is she? What does she expect of her boy and papa?
~Who will the boy end up pleasing? Will he be torn between pleasing papa and mama? Who will he grow to be?

Determining the Structure

The writer claims that for a short screenplay "a good story needs to have an archetypal storyline and a big idea." Why does he state this, and do you agree?
~The writer states this becuz he believes, in his experience, that to make a good story you have to have these two elements that will create a sense of conflict and plot development short enough to make a good short screenplay. I agree with this statement to a certain point, depending on what your view of a "big idea" is. The writer might not think a big idea is writing about a lost dog, but when you add conflict and well developed characters you get a good story.

Discovering/Crafting Images

What is exposition, and how did the writers decide to handle it in the example they give?
~Writing which exposes what character are thinking, explain why they are thinking it, or writing that gives the reader a peek into the characters' backstory and workings of their mind.
~The writers couldn't verbally express thru the son how he was feeling about his father's drinking and mother's demands, becuz the son is a character of few words. Therefore they send a visual message to the audience..."When the boy gets home and sits down to practice, we see that he is wearing his father's hockey uniform and his own skates. The vision is powerful: he'd rather be playing hockey, but he's being a dutiful son and practicing cello, as he promised his mother."

Writing Scenes. Beginnings, Middles, Ends / Tips for Writing Engaging Scenes

What are the three things you read in these sections that you found the most interesting/ helpful and that you will implement.
~1) To have a strong beginning, you need to know your ending.
~2) In a short narrative the relationship between a film's beginning, resolution, and end should come full circle, whatever elements you lay out as essential in the beginning must be apparent in the resolution and the end.
~3) A good scene has a clear purpose.

Exercises- Do exercise #1

Signed With Love

2007-01-10T08:21:00.000-08:00

For the first time in my life I felt the cold sting of steel handcuffs biting into my skin. I couldn't believe I was actually getting arrested. The sheriff tightened the cuffs to fit my wrists, and I turned around to face him.

"You ready to do this?" the sheriff asked with a question in his eyes. I gave him a coy smile, and just like in those cheesy action flicks I replied: "I was born ready."

The day started off like any other, my parents and two older sisters had already left the house, all four yawning due to lack of sleep. The light in my parents' room had been shining under their door, illuminating a small section of the hallway for a good amount of the night. What they were doing I can only speculate. My sisters, God bless their souls, were battling their own demons in the form of Chemistry formulas and Calculus equations. We all had a busy night, me especially.

The combination of creeping darkness and slivers of moonlight through my blinds were perfect ingredients for the evil that was brewing within me. I knew evil had lain dormant in my soul for far too long, hidden in the recesses of mind and body, but tonight was the night evil would be resurrected.

My plan was flawless in every way, shape, and form. The best I had ever conjured was made that night, March 31st; it's still marked on my calendar as "Plan E." E for Evil. Perfection in essence; this opportunity for evil came but once a year, I was the puppet master, holding each character by the strings, bending them to fit my will. Who was to know that working behind the curtains was another character hiding from sight, one whom had placed me in the middle of the stage, preparing to work magic on my
unsuspecting soul.

The end of the day came by quicker than usual; my friends were wary of me. They knew today’s date and distanced themselves for fear of succumbing to my evil ways. But they need not worry. The play had yet to begin, the curtains yet to rise it was almost time.

*Ring Ring*

"Hello?" In just that one word I could hear the worry and anxiety in my mother's voice emanating through the telephone wires, I convinced myself that she would be laughing later and didn't pay any mind to her emotions.

"Hello, is anyone there?" Again, that rising sense of panic.

"Hey ma, it's me." I allowed my voice to disguise the sarcastic tone it usually held when I was playing a prank on someone, I had learned to overcome this weakness these past years of maturity. I refocused on convincing my mother that something was terribly wrong. "Joanna? Oh thank the
Lord, where are you? Why didn't you answer your cell phone? Do you know how late it is?" I looked at the clock above the words "Austin Police Department," it was only 8:00, that was late to my parents. I snickered under my breath.

"Ma, I'm all right, but I don't have much time to talk. They only gave me one phone call." I had to bite my lip from laughing out loud. How awkward that line sounded, like something out of a movie. "I'm being held at the Austin Police Department ma. I got arrested, and they need you and Daddy to come by and clarify a few things." The silence on the other line was the best part of that phone call. I could practically see the disbelief, anger, worry, and questions on my mother's face. "Mom, are you still there?" I cued my partner in crime, Sheriff Dane--nicknamed Daddy D, to say his line.

In a loud voice he said: "Young lady, your time is up, time to go back to your cell." I winked at him and mouthed the words "thanks," Daddy D was awesome for helping me out like this. He was still a kid at heart and got as much of a kick out of this as I ever did.

The gasp that escaped my mother's lips was more like a hiss. I do believe she had thought this was another one of my infamous pranks, but was now convinced otherwise. Lovely, everything was falling into place quite nicely. "We'll come get you." The click on the other line was a bit sudden and unexpected but definitely satisfying. I hung up slowly and turned around to face Daddy D. “We did it,” I exclaimed excitedly, “high five for Plan E.” The look on Sheriff Dane’s face stopped me cold in my tracks. All blood had drained from his face, and he was looking over my head at something I knew I did not wish to see. I slowly swallowed a lump of fear in my throat, and I closed my eyes and pivoted to see the horrors that awaited me.

"Oh shiznit." This was not good, nope, very not good. I was looking at a hulk of man muscle, bigger than Sheriff Dane, bigger than anything I'd ever seen. With steely eyes and a grim face, he was looking straight at me. Very slowly, he pulled out his handcuffs, and I knew what would happen next.

"Young lady, you are under arrest, and I think you know why." I stood open-mouthed at the head honcho of the Austin Police Department and thought, "Holy Mary Mother of God, I've made a big mistake." Everything had taken a sudden 180-degree turn. How was this possible? Sheriff Dane and I had already worked out the plan. The area of the building we were in would be deserted save for him and I. My parents would come, flip out, then I'd tell them the good news of this being just another prank, and everyone would stay for milk and cookies and life would be happy once more. If only life were just milk and cookies.

For the first time in my life I felt the cold sting of steel handcuffs biting into my skin. I couldn't believe I was actually getting arrested. This was no joke, this was real life, and according to head honcho man I had committed a serious offense. Chills broke out across my body and I looked to Sheriff Dane for help. There was no life when I looked at him. He was staring straight ahead without emotion. He was just as S.O.L. as I was. Handcuffs were then placed on my partner's wrists, and my fate was forever sealed with metal bars. I was surprised to find my cheeks
wet with tears. "What had I done?" I was only playing. “You can't keep me here!” Nobody heard my cry, nobody saw my tears of frustration and loneliness. And yet there were still my parents, they'd get me out of this fix I was in, yes, that was it, they'd be my rescuers! Somewhere around the corner of my prison cell I heard a pattering of feet. I jumped to my feet awaiting my rescue.

"Sir, Ma'am, please step into my office, you'll get a chance to see your daughter soon." Those same words that were supposed to come out of Sheriff Dane's mouth came out of that man that had done this to me.

"Mama, Daddy, I'm over here!" That sharp intake of breath, I knew she had heard me.

"Jo? Where's my baby?"

"Esther, we need to follow this man, and see what he has to say. Girls, keep a hold of your mom."

My sisters were here too, oh man, I was still in a state of disbelief and shock. He would tell my family lies; they're all lies. I'm innocent I tell you! Fifteen agonizing minutes passed by, fifteen minutes of lies and deceit. Finally! I stared at my family through bars of steel, what I saw was hurt, anger, and mistrust. How would my family ever believe in me after this?

That man, oh how I hated him. "She'll be spending the evening here, but because she's still a minor she'll be able to leave in the morning." No words were exchanged as I looked helplessly at my family, they just stared at me, like I was a caged animal or something, something foreign to look at with wide eyes and open mouths. I had enough of this, I turned my back to them until I heard their receding footsteps and the door locking closed again.

That night was filled with nightmares and tears, fitful sleeping, tossing and turning, never fully asleep, trying desperately to get even an ounce of good sleep. But these barren walls wouldn't even allow me that luxury. I opened my eyes around 6:00 A.M. The sun slanting through the caged window mocked me, a reminder of a life I once had that will never be again. It took me awhile to realize something had changed since the evening before, what was it? Curiosity aroused me from the bed, I looked around slowly, wondering, wondering. What was it? Oh that's weird... huh... it took my brain a bit to register that my prison doors really were wide open. I was dreaming, that had to be it. I pinched my skin just to really wake me up. "Ow!" A red mark appeared on my skin... huh... that's pretty weird too. I got up slowly, thinking this was some cruel prank, that when I approached the doors they'd lock again somehow. But they didn't. Barefoot I crept to the end of the hall, a simple brown envelope with my name on it awaited me on top of a table.

I opened it and shook out the contents; a piece of white computer paper fell facedown on the floor. Picking it up and turning it over I read in small print, at the center of the page, the words... "April Fools." " Signed with love: Sheriff Dane, Dad, Mom, Mag, Eileen, and "'Hulk.'"

Acrostic

2006-12-03T13:51:00.000-08:00

Acrostic is defined as a short verse composition, so constructed that the initial letters of the lines, taken consecutively, form words. Acrostic may or may not rhyme.

Mc Cann, Paul. "Acrostic Examples." Poems by Paul Mc Cann. July 2004. 6 Dec 2006 http://home.vicnet.net.au/~poems/ps/html/acrostic_examples.html.
Good Friday
by: Paul Mc Cann
Gods only son .
On the cross hung .
On Calvary .
Dead his body .

Forsaken not .
Remember that .
Incarnate love .
Did rise above .
Alleluia .
Yahweh we pray

What Goes Around (my attempt)
Whatever you do, wherever you go, consequences will follow on your
Heels. Your actions today influence the outcome of tomorrow,
And if those actions are taken with deliberate evil as the source,
Then expect problems to arise.
“Foul deeds will rise, though all the earth o’erwhlem them, to men’s eyes.”
Claudius is a prime example of what happens to those that
Only think of themselves. He
Murdered King Hamlet and
Even went so far as to take Gertrude as wife, believing no-one
Suspected him of any wrong-doing or lies.
“Foul deeds will rise, though all the earth o’erwhlem them, to men’s eyes.”
Alas, young Hamlet knew better, and
Rightly avenged his father’s death, an eye for an eye, a life for a life.
Oh what tragedies occur in the middle of the night,
Under the pitch black sky, with God as your only witness.
Now the only thing keeping your secrets safe is
Deeply buried within your soul, mask your face into a false disguise.
“Foul deeds will rise, though all the earth o’erwhlem them, to men’s eyes.”
Gravediggers and bones, skeletons and rotten flesh,
Open wounds festering with hatred, mistakes buried in the
Earth. Seven deadly sins; lust, gluttony, greed,
Sloth, wrath, envy, and pride, all ending in your demise.
“Foul deeds will rise, though all the earth o’erwhlem them, to men’s eyes.”
A word of wisdom from a suffering soul, two wrongs never make a
Right. You can choose a life made uncertain with little white lies,
Or a life with truth at its core, and surety as its path.
Undertake this challenge,
Never doubt in the power of truth,
Death has no power over those who live righteously, for what comes around goes around.
“Foul deeds will rise, though all the earth o’erwhlem them, to men’s eyes.”

By: Joanna Drake

Double Lento

2006-11-29T08:36:00.000-08:00

All the first words should rhyme, & the second and fourth lines should end in rhyming words, it's up to the poet whether or not to rhyme the first and third lines.

Michelle. "My Simple Verse." PoetryPoem. 09 February 2006. 6 Dec 2006 .
http://poetrypoem.com/cgi-bin/index.pl?poemnumber=708395&sitename=minette&password=&poemoffset=0&displaypoem=t&item=poetry. Love Me In The Night (an example)
Dance with me my sweet one-
Chance a night in my arms.
France is waiting, Sweetheart-
Lance my heart with your charms.

Wed me today, my love-
Bed me before the morn.
Shed your hang-ups, darling-
Thread not your heart with thorns.

Fold me in your arms, Sweet-
Hold me close in the night.
Mold me to your side dear-
Old worries will take flight.

Kiss me through the night love-
Miss me all through the day.
Bliss will fill our lives, love-
‘Tis sure our hearts won't stray.

Change (my attempt)
Fall weather has come, this brings me cheer,
All students will wear warm clothing to school,
Mall stores offer discounts for all to hear,
Ya’ll sport the new clothes and think you’re so cool.

The leaves have changed greatly as they begin to fall,
See the bright colors of yellow, orange, and red,
Be captured by the beauty that never ceases to enthrall,
Free to make the pile of leaves your comfy bed.

Colder weather is appreciated amongst all I know,
Shoulder the gusts of wind blowing fiercely against you,
Under the mounds of blankets you dream of snow,
Wonder who you should give Christmas gifts to.

Much to everyone’s delight Christmas Break has come,
Such relief from finals is seen in all the faces,
Touch the last minute gifts with the to and from,
Clutch those certain people with bittersweet embraces.

Clerihew

2006-11-27T08:45:00.000-08:00

They are four lines long.
The first and second lines rhyme with each other, and the third and fourth lines rhyme with each other.
The first line names a person, and the second line ends with something that rhymes with the name of the person.
A clerihew should be funny, but doesn't have to be.

"Clerihews." Thinks. 2006. Michael Curl Internet Publishing. 5 Dec 2006
http://www.thinks.com/words/clerihew.htm.
Example:
E. C. Bentley
Mused while he ought to have studied intently;
It was this muse
That inspired clerihews.

My attempt:
Joanna L. Drake
Accidentally made a mistake;
Instead of studying at an easy pace
She chose to get on MySpace.

Sijo

2006-11-27T08:06:00.000-08:00

This lyric verse introduces a situation or problem in line 1, development (called a turn) in line 2, and a strong conclusion beginning with a surprise (a twist) in line 3, which resolves tensions or questions raised by the other lines and provides a memorable ending. Lines average 14-16 syllables, for a total of 44-46.

"Sijo." Answers.com. January 2005. Answers Corporation. 27 Nov 2006 http://www.answers.com/main/ir/about_company.jsp.
Yun Seondo:
You ask how many friends I have? Water and stone, bamboo and pine.
The moon rising over the eastern hill is a joyful comrade.
Besides these five companions, what other pleasure should I ask?

My Attempt:
Do you remember a day when naptime and show and tell reigned?
When days were spent under the sun, innocence free from troubles?
Those days long since left me, I find them now in the eyes of my son.

kinds of poetry

2006-11-25T15:41:00.000-08:00

--- types of poems i'm interested in pursuing & creating my own ---

Lento
Clerihew
Renga
Sijo
Bhatau

horror (583)

2006-11-13T08:25:00.000-08:00

It was on our twenty first birthday that he escaped, the headline read: “Gone! Twenty One Years of Science in the Making.” Being a promising scientist myself, the news was a disappointment to the scientific community, any project that had been taken on for that time scale was on the brink of discovery. The article was about Project Nighttime Murder, a project dedicated to altering the genes of the human body enough so, that a particular child could eventually advance far enough in the evolution of mankind to know when nighttime murders would occur, before they happened. At night the boy would dream of murders, visions of what was to come. The night my brother escaped was the night he saw himself commit a murder.

Unlocking the door, the stench hit me first. It was sickening, rotten flesh decaying slowly in the heat of the apartment made me vomit in my mouth. I’d never smelled a corpse before, and I didn’t know where the stench came from until I saw the dead woman’s body. Blood was everywhere, on the walls and carpet, in the bathroom where she lay, head smashed into the side of the bathtub, a bone in her leg was sticking up out of her flesh, the gleaming white contrasted sharply against red rotting muscle. I knew now what the curious stain on my apartment ceiling was. Professor Jane Adams, one of the scientists who was an activist for the creation of Project Nighttime Murder, lay deceased in front of me. I turned toward the door, hand over my mouth, and saw myself looking back. Standing in front of me was a man, a man that was an exact replica of myself, but with blood stained hands. Living two floors below me was Professor Harrison McCoy, founder of the project, now dead. I hit the floor in a dead faint and awoke in my apartment. I don’t recall screaming, but the landlord later told me he had heard me, and came to my aid.

Immediately I set about gathering my things, I went straight to my lab and began the tedious process of finding the cure to my brother’s insatiable desire to kill. I called everyone involved in the Project and discovered that indeed, I had a twin who was the test subject of the Project, and when he dreamt of his own killing spree, his body was obligated to fulfill it. Something was terribly wrong with my brother and I was the only one who could help him. Hour after hour I spent laboring over the right chemicals that would reverse the years of genetic mutations that had occurred in his body. I was so close to the cure, so close to saving my brothers life. But unfortunately I was also too late, it was my life or his, and when I saw his reflection in the glass vials sitting at my desk I knew I had to kill him in order to save myself.
That was five years ago, I recently came across some new information that I’ve never known existed. My brother wasn’t the only taken; another child was too, a young man that now probably needed a cure just as much as my brother would have. The factors I needed to complete my quest for the cure was time, and of course a test subject. Time I now had, all I needed was my test subject. Today my wife is due. The doctor says we’re having twins.

genres

2006-10-31T17:12:00.000-08:00

poetry

comedy

and fantasy.. i think.

F.I.T. & W.A.G.S.

2006-10-06T08:05:00.000-07:00

F.I.T.

--according to my writing... a) Familiarity: i don't have that, this is a semi-ficticious story, with some true parts... b) Importance: i think my story is fun, and it's something i've created on my own time, not necessarily very important to me, but still good stuff... c) Truth: hmmmmm, kinda true, kinda not, therefore semi-ficticious, but there is still stuff i need to make up, characters i need to create, so i am working to keep the reader reading.

W.A.G.S.

--according to my writing... a) World: i want to take the reader into the mind of my character, her world, her plans, and how everything goes awry... b) Active: my character is always thinking of new twists to add onto her plan, she and the people she manuevers to fit her plan are also pretty active as well... c) Goals: very important to my girl, she's adament about this plan, her goal is to have everything work out with her plan... d) Stakes: yeah, this is the part i need to work on, my conflict. Right now, everything for my character is going well, i hinted at another person who might provide the conflict at the end of my narrative, but i don't how i'm going to include him in my narrative.

Signed with Love

2006-09-29T08:41:00.000-07:00

For the first time in my life I felt the cold sting of steel handcuffs biting into my skin. I couldn't believe I was actually getting arrested. The sheriff tightened the cuffs to fit my wrists, and I turned around to face him.

"You ready to do this?" the sheriff asked with a question in his eyes.
I gave him a coy smile, and just like in those cheesy action flicks I replied: "I was born ready."

The day started off like any other, my parents and two older sisters had already left the house, all four yawning due to lack of sleep. The light in my parents' room had been shining under their door, illuminating a small section of the hallway for a good amount of the night. What they were doing I can only speculate. My sisters, God bless their souls, were battling their own demons in the form of Chemistry formulas and Calculus equations. We all had a busy night, me especially. The combination of creeping darkness and slivers of moonlight through my blinds were perfect ingredients for the evil that was brewing within me. I knew evil had lain dormant in my soul for far too long, hidden in the recesses of mind and body, but tonight was the night evil would be resurrected.

My plan was flawless in every way, shape, and form. The best I had ever conjured was made that night, March 31st, it's still marked on my calendar as "Plan E." E for Evil. But you knew that. Midnight. A new day, a glorious new day, MUAHAHAHAHA, my evil laughter could be heard echoing off my bedroom walls. Opportunities such as these come but once a year and I had looked forward to this even more so than a child might on the first day of school, Christmas Eve, Thanksgiving Day, or Halloween Night. Combine the feelings of anxiety, excitement, nervousness, thanks, and greed and you'll have the evening of March 31st. Perfection in essence; I was the puppet master, holding each character by the strings, bending them to fit my will. Who was to know that working behind the curtains was another character hiding from sight, one whom had placed me in the middle of the stage, preparing to work their magic on my unsuspecting soul.

As I walked to the bus stop I was only looking forward to the end of the day, when Plan E would begin. Oh the glory of it all, I knew this plan was the result of the rebel inside dying to get out. For three hundred and sixty four days of the year, I am a good girl, a dedicated student, an obedient daughter, and a dependable friend. On April 1st, I allow myself to turn my world upside down, I’m my alternate ego, the bad girl, the laziest student of the class, the rebellious daughter, and even my closest friends don’t know what to expect from me. This plan was a way to suppress that demonic being within me, satisfy its needs for one day out of the year, and be the angelic creature every day following it. School passed by in a blur, my friends were wary of me, they knew today's date and distanced themselves for fear of succumbing to my evil ways. But they need not worry, the play had yet to begin, the curtains yet to rise, it was almost time.

*Ring Ring*
"Hello?" In just that one word I could hear the worry and anxiety in my mother's voice emanating through the telephone wires, I convinced myself that she would be laughing later and didn't pay any mind to her emotions.

"Hello, is anyone there?" Again, that rising sense of panic.

"Hey ma, it's me." I allowed my voice to disguise the sarcastic tone it usually held when I was playing a prank on someone, I had learned to overcome this weakness these past years of maturity. I refocused on convincing my mother that something was terribly wrong.

"Joanna? Oh thank the Lord, where are you? Why didn't you answer your cell phone? Do you know how late it is?" I looked at the clock above the words "Austin Police Department," it was only 8:00, that was late to my parents. I snickered under my breath.

"Ma, I'm all right, but I don't have much time to talk. They only gave me one phone call." I had to bite my lip from laughing out loud, how awkward that line sounded, like something out of a movie. "I'm being held at the Austin Police Department ma, I got arrested and they need you and Daddy to come by and clarify a few things." The silence on the other line was the best part of that phone call, I could practically see the disbelief, anger, worry, and questions on my mother's face. "Mom, are you still there?" I cued my partner in crime, Sheriff Dane, nicknamed Daddy D to say his line.

In a loud voice he said: "Young lady, your time is up, time to go back to your cell." I winked at him and mouthed the words "thanks," Daddy D was awesome for helping me out like this. He was still a kid at heart and got as much of a kick out of this as I ever did.

The gasp that escaped my mother's lips was more like a hiss. I do believe she had thought this was another one of my infamous pranks, but was now convinced otherwise. Lovely, everything was falling into place quite nicely. "We'll come get you." The click on the other line was a bit sudden and unexpected but definitely satisfying. I hung up slowly and turned around to face Daddy D.
“We did it,” I exclaimed excitedly, “high five for Plan E.” The look on Sheriff Dane’s face stopped me cold in my tracks, all blood had drained from his face and he was looking over my head at something I knew I did not wish to see. A lump of fear was slowly swallowed in my throat and I closed my eyes and pivoted to see the horrors that awaited me.

"Oh shiznit." This was not good, nope, very not good. I was looking at a hulk of man muscle, bigger than Sheriff Dane, bigger than anything I'd ever seen. Steely eyes and a grim face, he was looking straight at me. Very slowly he pulled out his handcuffs and I knew what would happen next.

"Young lady, you are under arrest, and I think you know why." I stood open-mouthed at the head honcho of the Austin Police Department and thought "Holy Mary Mother of God, I've made a big mistake." Everything had taken a sudden 180 degree turn. How was this possible? Sheriff Dane and I had already worked out the plan, the area of the building we were in would be deserted save for him and I, my parents would come, flip out, then I'd tell them the good news of this being just another prank, and everyone would stay for milk and cookies and life would be happy once more. If only life were just milk and cookies.

For the first time in my life I felt the cold sting of steel handcuffs biting into my skin. I couldn't believe I was actually getting arrested. This was no joke, this was real life, and according to head honcho man I had committed a serious offense. Chills broke out across my body and I looked to Sheriff Dane for help, there was no life when I looked at him, he was staring straight ahead, without emotion. He was just as S.O.L. as I was. Handcuffs were then placed on my partner's wrists, and the lock and clang of metal bars sliding in front of my face, locking me forever inside a steel prison of desolation, extinguished the very fire of resistance burning within me.

I was surprised to find my cheeks wet with tears. "What had I done?" I was only playing. You can't keep me here! Nobody heard my cry, nobody saw my tears of frustration and loneliness. And yet there were still my parents, they'd get me out of this fix I was in, yes, that was it, they'd be my rescuers! Somewhere around the corner of my prison cell I heard a pattering of feet, I jumped to my feet awaiting my rescue.

"Sir, Ma'am, please step into my office, you'll get a chance to see your daughter soon." Those same words that were supposed to come out of Sheriff Dane's mouth came out of that man that had done this to me.

"Mama, Daddy, I'm over here!" That sharp intake of breath, I knew she had heard me.

"Jo?!?!? Where's my baby?"

"Esther, we need to follow this man, and see what he has to say. Girls, keep a hold of your mom."

My sisters were here too, oh man, I was still in a state of disbelief and shock. He would tell my family lies, they're all lies, I'm innocent I tell you! Fifteen agonizing minutes passed by, fifteen minutes of lies and deceit. Finally! I stared at my family through these bars of desolation, what I saw was hurt, anger, mistrust, how would my family ever trust and believe in me after this?

That man, oh how I hated him. "She'll be spending the evening here, but because she's still a minor she'll be able to leave in the morning." No words were exchanged as I looked helplessly at my family, they just stared at me. Like I was a caged animal or something, something foreign to look at with wide eyes and open mouths. I had enough of this, I turned my back to them until I heard their receding footsteps and the door locking closed again.

That night was filled with nightmares and tears, fitful sleeping, tossing and turning, never fully asleep, trying desperately to get even an ounce of good sleep. But these barren walls wouldn't even allow me that luxury. I opened my eyes around 6:00 A.M., the sun slanting through the caged window mocked me, a reminder of a life I once had that will never be again. It took me awhile to realize something had changed since the evening before, what was it? Curiosity aroused me from the bed, I looked around slowly, wondering, wondering. What was it? Oh that's weird... huh... it took my brain a bit to register that my prison doors really were wide open. I was dreaming, that had to be it. I pinched my skin just to really wake me up. "Ow!" A red mark appeared on my skin... huh... that's pretty weird too. I got up slowly, thinking this was some cruel prank, that when I approached the doors they'd lock again somehow. But they didn't. Barefoot I crept to the end of the hall, a simple brown envelope with my name on it awaited me on top of a table.

I opened it and shook out the contents, a piece of white computer paper fell facedown on the floor. Picking it up and turning it over I read in small print, at the center of the page, the words... "April Fools." " Signed with love: Sheriff Dane, Dad, Mom, Mag, Eileen, and "'Hulk.'"

exploration of conflict

2006-09-29T08:14:00.000-07:00

A. "Why don't you want to do what you know you should do? The reason you don't is that you are in conflict with yourself." -Tom Hopkins

i kinda like this quote, it makes me think of the opposing conflicts within every human being, the classic struggle between good and evil. The question he poses oddly makes me think of procrastination, trivial stupid stuff like projects or homework or whatever. I don't want to do boring things, even tho i should, 'cuz it'll help me in the long run, but i still don't. However, when he says i don't do these things bcuz i'm in conflict with myself, i'm not entirely sure i agree bcuz i don't see myself as a conflicting person really. I'm just lazy. I guess laziness is a sense of conflict tho... so yeah.

B. In the story I read, titled, " Of Puzz and Other Worlds, or A Jolly Day with a Puzz," by Marina Childers the main conflict is between the main character Lady Wyn and the creature known as the Puzz. Basically man vs. creature. The reader doesn't know yet if the Puzz will end up being Wyn's friend or enemy, becuz the Puzz has the potential to be both, and the conflict is finding out if the Puzz will befriend Wyn or not. It makes me want to continue reading the story, becuz only until the end is everything resolved with the Puzz.

"Tell you what," the Puzz broke the silence, "how about I wake him up for you?"
"You would?" I exclaimed joyfully, then narrowed my eyes suspiciously. "What would you want in return?"
The Puzz seemed to consider it for a moment, glanced at Cedric, and then at me.
"I would like for you never to kick me again."
I shrugged. "Deal."
-----this is where the conflict is resolved, even tho it's not the end of the story, there are still good elements that kept me wanting to finish the story.

April Fools!

2006-09-12T08:59:00.000-07:00

April Fools was made for people like me. It is by far my most favorite holiday out of the whole year. Christmas, Thanksgiving, and Halloween cannot even begin to compare to the glory of April 1st. It is the one day where my true self is revealed to those unfortunate souls that are my victims. Even though I might look like your average teenager, you are being fooled, because beneath this false appearance of childhood innocence lies the mature, crafty, devious mind of an experienced mastermind of the art of lying. Because April Fools is really just a huge lie, which is why I love it. For three hundred and sixty four days of the year, I am a good girl, a dedicated student, an obedient daughter, and a dependable friend. On April 1st, I allow myself to turn my world upside down, I’m my alternate ego, the bad girl, the laziest student of the class, the rebellious daughter, and even my closest friends don’t know what to expect from me. MUAHAHAHA, my evil laugh is heard, echoing in the closed quarters of my mind.

Today is Oct. 14th, that means I have around five and a half months to figure out a way to bring about Plan E squared. Evil to the second power, and just as destructive as the first, this monstrosity will soon be revealed. But first, let me tell you about the original Plan E.

* this was how the story titled "Signed With Love" originally started... but i changed it into a narrative to fit Connolly's requirements... hope you read and liked it *

Commit

2006-09-08T08:17:00.000-07:00

I think I'd like to write something humorous, perhaps I'll expand on my Jupiter sized blister piece, or maybe I'll write something new, I'll see where this weekend takes me.

I'd very much like to submit to Word Magazine, and the Scholastic contest also interests me. The publication's I put up on my blog require writing entirely new pieces, I'm not sure I want to do that right now.

If I was going to go with the Jupiter sized blister piece, then I'd like to expand on the funny parts of it, maybe not concentrating on running, but perhaps make up or combine my "running" post with my Jupiter piece. Maybe I'll put plausible situations in my final piece that I made up, but could really happen, that are humorous. I quite enjoying making people laugh and smile, and my day isn't complete if I haven't brought a smile to someone's face.

publication stuff

2006-09-05T08:58:00.000-07:00

http://dkamagazine.com/item.php?sub_id=224
-- 2006 poetry contest

Publication: Dragons, Knights, and Angels (DKA)
Deadline: All submissions must be received before midnight on Sept. 30th
Submission Criteria: http://dkamagazine.com/submission.html
Audience: Christians (all ages)
~ judges are looking for poems with the theme of Revelation
~ to have my writing fit this publication i will write a poem w/ revelation as its theme, fantasy included.

http://www.5thstoryreview.com/contest.html
-- $100 amazon.com contest award

Publication: 5th Story Review
Deadline: All submissions for this contest must be received before Sept. 30th
Submission Criteria: http://www.5thstoryreview.com/writers.html You'll want to read this page, as well as click on the $100 Story Contest link. Only short stories (1,000 - 10,000 words) are being accepted.
Audience: anybody really, they don't say
~ to have my writing fit this publication I'm gonna have to write outside of what I'm used to, I'll have to find a topic I can write passionately about, then the words will flow.

other sites that seemed interesting: 1) http://www.thefirstline.com/index.htm
2) http://www.diddledog.com/
3) http://www.cricketmag.com/pages_content.asp?page_id=22

running (snapshot)

2006-08-30T08:12:00.000-07:00

It always hurts at the beginning, there has never been a day where feet and pavement meet and pain is absent. Pain is always there. I start off with an easy run, but the impact made on concrete from flesh and bone is anything but easy. I begin the solitary run up South 1st street, with baby steps I'm able to keep my body moving. Pain is absent only sparingly, occassionally my surroundings catch me off guard and I forget about the pain. Deep breaths, in through the nose, out through the mouth, open my eyes, drink in the intoxicating beauty. See the low hanging branches which signify the beginning, the KB home flags billowing black and yellow colors in the breeze, taunting you to come nearer. Smell the awful stench of sewer when I come over the bridge, picking up my pace to hurridly pass the zone. Listen to what nature has to say, hear the birds singing their early songs, the gurgling brook, the passing cars. Feel the wind in my hair, the drops of sweat falling from my face, cooling my hot body. Arms outstretched I pretend I'm flying on eagle's wings, swoop swoop. I don't care what the people inside their cars might think of me, whether my actions seem childish to them or not. It feels great to let myself go, flying forward. Spin around like a ballerina, stare up at the pure blue sky. I smile knowing life has been good to me. Twenty minutes have come and gone, I'm at the gas station and the 1.5 miles have passed me by, time to turn around and head back. It's always easier running back, I tend to pick up my pace just a little, knowing W. Charles Akins High School is waiting for me with a hot steamy shower in the girls locker room. COWS! Brown and black, big and small, they make me smile when I run past. To make running fun for me I wave at the cars coming my way. Most of the time they wave back, I make sure and give them plenty of wave time so I know who is just being plain rude when they ignore my hand waving wildly back and forth at them. I hope it makes them happy, because I know I'm happy when I run, and life is too short to be sad. WOOHOO! I see them KB flags now!

"You can do it Joanna, you've done it before, and you can do it again."

Yeah, that's right. These 3 miles are nothin'! Another WOOHOO! I see my low hanging branches, the bus stop is just out of sight, I take long gazelle like strides up the bridge. YES! I did it! I feel like raising my hands in victory, but I'm too tired by that time. So, I settle with stretching out my worn muscles and walking back to the locker room. Mmmmmm, that water feels good against my skin, I sigh contendly, washing away the sweat and nasties that cling to me. Short and sweet, I'm done in 15 minutes. Blow dry my hair with the hand driers, 'cuz I'm fly like that, and try and pull off looking cute for the day. It only works sometimes :), but I don't mind, I can't be perfectly gorgeous all the time. All I can be is me, and I'm happy with who that is.

friendship (looping)

2006-08-22T16:07:00.000-07:00

Life's journey's sometimes leaves us strewn across the road, naked without anything in the world to comfort and clothe us. At times like these it is oftentimes our friends who see us at our worst, reach out a hand, and put us back on our feet. They throw a robe around our shoulders and give us a comforting smile and life moves on. Friends sacrifice so much for one another, time, space, even living their own lives to see the other content. True friends come together like peanut butter and jelly, opposites attracting either crunchy or smooth, mixed with sweet succulence that blend to form a mixture heaven sent. I'd say a true friendship is quite like marriage, together as one you eventually find the other and when you do, promises are made to be there until the very end through thick and thin, 'till death do us part. When we are at our very worst, at the bottom of a deep dark terrifying pit, the other is there like a shining beacon of light igniting the flame of hope within our very souls. You become lifted out of the gloom and suffering and onto angels wings, we fly together through the heavens, admist the clouds, hand in hand. Without friends in this world we would all be walking corpses with no beacon of light to guide us along the way, with no reason at all for living, zombies with no purpose, with glazed eyes and cold hearts.

My plans for '06-'07

2006-08-18T08:42:00.000-07:00

Hmmm, let's see, I'm just a kid who loves to read. Plain and simple, I love fantasy, comedy, action, sci-fi, anything that's a good read you'll find in my hands. However, I am taking a creative writing class and I'm hoping that one of these days I'll be able to write something good, and actually finish it. See, that's my problem, I oftentimes just give up on my thoughts, this year I'd like to write a little bit of everything and finish the majority of 'em.

Of course, it would be nice if I had my work published, I've submitted my work to my local school literary magazing called Word but nothing I've written has ever been published, I guess one of my goals is to have one of my pieces of writing actually published in Word.

As a writer I think I like to type more than writing with actual pen and paper, the feel of the click-clack and the easiness of deleting a mistake with just one key instead of labouriously erasing and getting that black smudge on my paper... well, it's just easier for me. Humor is a style of writing I'd like to master, I'd rather make people laugh than cry.

Well, duh. Of course the tree will make a sound, just this morning I was in the girls restroom and I the water hose that was on the trashcan fell to the ground, making slipping, sliding, crinkling, thunking noises as it went down. If I wasn't there it would still have made all those noises, just like a tree, even though nobody's around to here the tree it will make a sound.

Welcome to my blog!

2006-08-18T08:11:00.000-07:00

And so it begins, I have taken my first tentative steps, and like a small child I am prone to falling, I stumble, I crawl on hands and knees, but I get back up, and I keep on going. With a smile on my face, determination in my eyes, and an iron will, I refuse to let myself give up. Soldiers never quit. And I am a soldier! I might not look it, but the passion is there, the love to serve this country. I will be the energizer bunny, and I will keep going, and going, and going. Nothing can stop me now, no force of nature, no doubt of my peers, NOTHING! I won't let up, I refuse with all my heart and soul to let myself stop now. I've made it this far, and I know I'm doing something right, because I have my Father by my side.

Lord, show me the way, help me in my endeavors in life, please Lord, you know how bad I want this. More than anything I've ever wanted in the entirity of my sixteen years of living. Dreams can come true, and with your help Lord impossible is nothing.

"'Impossible' is a big word thrown around by small men and women who find it easier to live in the world they've been given than to explore the power they have to change it. Impossible is not a fact. It's an opinion. Impossible is not a declaration. It's a dare. Impossible is potential. Impossible is temporary" - Muhammad Ali.