Blog Assignment #8: Final Workshop Reflection

Working on the final portfolio truly puts in perspective how much I have grown as a writer this semester. I revised my first two assignments. I obviously thought they were the best they could be when I turned them in months ago, but when I went to work on them more recently, I had tons of changes to make! The defining characteristics of my writing evolution are as follows; I have a more confident voice and writing style. I can read the pieces I wrote out loud and distinctly hear my personality in them. I am less earnest and sentimental and more honest. I have a much better understanding for the flow and arc of my pieces. I am very proud of the work I turned in for my portfolio assignment.

I enjoyed most of the reading assignments for this class. I loved "Angel's Ashes" the most, because it taught me that writing is beautifully entertaining when written in the way the author would tell the story in person. I liked "Into Thin Air's" technique of jumping from character to character. It built suspense and gave a panoramic view of a tragic tale. And of course, I loved the David Sedaris pieces. He's brilliant. He can make me laugh out loud while I'm sitting by myself. I love his dry sensibility.

The following is an excerpt from "Crumbling Walls in Crumbling Halls," Assignment #2: Describing a place:


"Her favorite spot was the elevator. This death trap was a small box with two accordion-collapsing chain link doors. The inexplicable rug on the floor smelled like a dog’s intestines rotted away to liquid and soaked through the bottom. On the unfortunate occasions that I got stuck on the elevator with her, Mumsy would wait until the door was closed and she had a captive audience, then lift up her skirt and show me what an old woman with an unfortunate lack of hygiene looked like without underwear on. After that, I couldn’t tell if my nausea came from the shock of what she had shown me or the fits and starts of the antiquated elevator. The space between the elevator and my room was never far enough to escape the sound of her cackling as she watched me scurry away in horror, preparing to flash the next unlucky soul who needed to use the elevator."




This piece was successful in the end, because I found the protagonist to be a metaphor for the building itself. She was falling apart from the inside out just as it was. She was nightmarish in the same ways, decrepit in the same ways, pathetic and sad in the same ways.

Thank you, Professor Dragan, for a great semester, and for helping me become a better writer. Thank you, classmates of ENG-274, for inspiring me with your talent.

Blog Assignment 7- Author's Note On My Personal Memoir

I became acutely aware that I was about to walk my father down the aisle, instead of having him walk me. It was a physical pain that I could somehow feel all the way to the tips of my hair, in the white part of my fingernails, and in the calluses on my feet. To take a step seemed to say that I was agreeing to living in a world without my dad in it, that I was signing away my rights to the moments I had dreamed of with him. I was never prepared for the moment in this church where I would give him away.

Ok. I went out on a limb with this one. I knew I wasn't ready to write it, but I wanted to try. I couldn't think of a more defining moment in my life, or one that even came close. My dad was the impedes for me to take this course- Not only his death, but the book he wrote prior to it. He had an amazing talent for story-telling that left you on the edge of your seat... while peeing your pants with laughter.

For the first time this semester, I wasn't thinking of any other writer while I crafted this piece. I had no choice but for the voice to be mine, and I didn't have the distance from the subject matter to even make an attempt at style. For lack of better words, I just bled this one out. And I learned that I'm not ready to truly work on this yet. I won't be revising it for the final portfolio. I'll put it away for awhile until I can approach it with a clearer head. I want to write it. But I want to write it well. That might take awhile.

Blog Assignment #6- Midterm Reflection

       When I registered for ENG-274- Creative Non-Fiction, I was excited for the opportunity to hone my writing skills and improve my blogging. I  considered creative non-fiction to center around journaling, blogging, memoir, etc. I never thought about it's journalistic aspects and how important this skill would be to someone like Michael Pollan, who's trying to change the way people view and purchase their food. I certainly didn't think about Truman Capote, and his ability to engage readers with wild but true events. While we hear over and over again in class that there is no solid definition for creative non-fiction, my explanation of it has certainly evolved! Now I realize creative non-fiction is more or less an umbrella genre that encompasses reporting true events while injecting personal (and sometimes fictional!) anecdotes.

       My favorite aspect of this course is that it forces me to write more often. I love writing, but it seems as though making time for it is a luxury that I'll put off when my to-do list gets long. But when blogging and writing creative pieces becomes a required task, than I make the time, and I love every moment. It's certainly improved my writing. It's become easier for me to be clear, effective, and economical. It is always hard for me to trim the fat, but since each assignment is required to be a certain length, I've learned how to say what I need to in fewer words, with greater accuracy.

My background in acting make this a relatively easy genre for me. Fiction can never compete with real life, and adding dramatic personal touches comes naturally to me. My struggle is in avoiding melodrama and sentimentality.

This course has definitely improved my reading comprehension. Having to blog about some of the passages we have read has forced me to explore what I really think and have learned from them. Also, it has given me the opportunity to critique my own writing. I like looking back and expounding on the process of my writing, and seeing how I can improve.

I appreciate the blogging aspect of this class, not only as an outlet for my own thoughts, but also because it gives me insight into the other talented writers in class. We don't have a lot of opportunities to read everyone's work, so the blogs are a nice chance to see what other people have been working on. I only wish people were blogging more often!

I hope to grow exponentially in the second half of the semester. I would  like my clarity to improve, my style to become more defined, and my pieces to be entertaining enough to be published!

Blog Assignment #5- Reading William Styron's Darkness Visible

"The storm which swept me into a hospital in December began as a cloud no bigger than a wine goblet the previous June." William Styron doesn't feel sorry himself. While depression has an intrinsically self-indulgent connotation, "Darkness Visible" lacks any masturbatory self-pity. Instead of focusing on what he was feeling, the author clinically describes the symptoms of his depression, much like a journalistic account of Hurricane Katrina, or 9/11. While it would be impossible to write on any of these topics without the inherent emotions bubbling up, this passage is sober and articulate enough to see it's way through that cloudiness and paint an accurate picture.

"Doubtless depression had hovered near me for years, waiting to swoop down." I think lines like this one were key to this work's popularity with readers. Most people can identify with walking the thin line between being consumed by depression and actively ignoring it's looming presence in our minds. It moved me to read that Styron lived most of his life knowing that this "storm" was inevitable, and yet he wasn't able to defend himself against it when it was upon him. He is the ultimate sympathetic character in that he not only shares the everyman's struggles, but has succumbed to and conquered them.

"The madness of depression is, generally speaking, the antithesis of violence. It is a storm indeed, but a storm of murk." This is an excellent example of Styron's clarity in this piece. "Madness" and "murk" are not only the best word choices, but ultimately the only way to effectively describe the illness that took over his mind at the time. His character becomes clearer through these words. We know that while his mind was waging a war onto itself, his personality barely showed enough passion to discuss a battle, much less engage in one.

"Darkness Visible" became a best seller because William Styron shed light on an illness that had been previously shrouded in darkness. He boldly articulated what had only been whispered about. He gave depression an unlikely face for struggling readers to recognize as their own.

Blog Assignment #4- Writing on a Photograph

       The elephant is smiling. He seems playful and cocky, as if he knows the photographer is in the palm of his hand. Meanwhile, the human subject seems to be wrapped around the photographer’s finger!

       The man looks like a Danny, or a Caleb, or a Seamus- light skinned features with a ruddy complexion and a thick body that was designed for work. He is dressed like the cliché of a news anchor. Business on the top, he wears a tie, a button-down shirt, and a sensible cardigan. However, below the waist he could be mistaken for a pirate. His pants billow like a genie’s, and there is a thick sash around his waist. This attire tells the viewer that he is a performer, and a poor one at that. I suppose that makes it okay for his head to be clenched in the jaw of an elephant… He’s a poor man, a poor soul, a penniless tramp who’d do anything for a laugh and a buck.

The first glance at this photo obviously goes right to the man’s head, or more correctly, the elephant’s grin around the man’s skull. But a closer look begs the questions; “Where are the man’s legs? Are we looking at a man not only down on his luck, but down two limbs as well?” Nope. They are behind him. He’s bending at the knees for dramatic effect. In the same way, his face looks clenched like he’s bracing for the vice of the elephant’s jaw to juice it like an orange. But ultimately, the comfort between the man and the elephant shines through enough that the photo can simply be enjoyed. It’s a fun, rare sight that starts off with the thrill of perhaps seeing a moment of horror and finishes with the glee of the impossible- a big dumb animal with the discipline and agility to lift the man up by his skull without injuring him.

                                           Photograph By Edward Kelty

Blog Assingment #3- Author's Note on My Vignette

He introduced himself as Davis, and told me the American Diabetes Association had asked him to ride on my team because no one else signed up to be on it. He was wearing a bicycling body tight like everyone else (except me, who didn’t know any better,) but his was bright yellow. “I like your leotard.” I said. He scowled at my sweat pants and Gold’s Gym t-shirt. “Where is your water bottle?” Davis asked me.
       “I forgot it.” I admitted.
       “Where are your riding gloves?”
       “Yeah, I don't have those.”
       “Where's your flat tire kit?”
       (I pointed to him.)
       “I don't suppose you have a GPS for when you get lost?”
       (I shook my head.)
      “Where's your helmet?”
       “What's a helmet? I’m just kidding, Davis. Don't throw your bike down. It's right here. Sheesh.”






This piece basically wrote itself. I was inspired to write it because I knew it would make my family and friends laugh. In order to truly appreciate and understand this piece, the audience should know that I have a habit of biting off more than I can chew, and this experience was no different. I had signed up for a 62 mile bike ride to raise money for a cure for diabetes, and didn't put any thought or effort into preparing for it. 

I laugh out loud when I read pieces by David Sedaris, Ellen Degeneres, and Tina Fey, so I kept their writing styles in mind while drafting and revising. I don't think I'll be revising this piece for my portfolio, but if I were to, I imagine I'd  give more detail about the surroundings and other riders, and how the ride went so horribly wrong.

I have written some short stories before, but this one was easily the most fun. While writing, I learned that creative non-fiction is most effective when you have a solid form. It doesn't necessarily have to be organized chronologically, but the path the story takes should be easily recognizable. 


I always write on a computer. I get tired just thinking about writing long hand, and I can't type fast enough on my touch screen phone. I like to write and revise in several sittings. I sit and write the whole thing in one sitting, and then look back and revise a little at a time after that. I always have at least one person read it before I submit any draft. 


This was my first time writing a true account from my own life. I like writing about me. I'm my favorite subject.

ENG 274- Blog Assignment #2- Reading Description- Luis Alberto Urrea, Across The Wire

Luis Alberto Urrea’s use of description in Across the Wire is so intense and profound that I can clearly see the characters and setting in my mind. Certain parts make me physically lurch, and my stomach tenses up just recalling them.

"Pacha had startling eyes… her eyes would have seemed like a movie star's." This precise detail stands out to me because this woman is such a contradiction. She is homeless and destitute, yet too proud to scramble for the food delivered by Christian missionaries, instead waiting for it to be brought to her. She is filthy, yet her eyes are those of a beautiful and glamorous movie star.

"And she had been leaning against it to go; bloody ropes and spatters of feces were all over the wall." Through this effective use of metaphor, I know how sick Mrs. Serrano must have been to have stool that would be characterized as "bloody ropes". This also gives some insight into the “house” and the squalor in which the Serrano’s lived. Not only is there no bathroom, but the family’s waste isn’t even contained in a separate space.

            "I was told that if I was really interested in the shooting, one of the men would sell me the shotgun. It was going for forty dollars." After Jesusita and her husband are viciously and deliberately executed, the commentary is cold and unsentimental, confined only to the measly cost of the gun instead of displaying any grief or desire for justice.
            Luis Alberto Urrea's description is concise, but the adjectives and metaphors he uses are cutting and haunting. He describes the garbage dump and its cast of characters vividly, drawing a detailed portrait that is so clear that I'm tempted to look away so that I don't have to see the horrors that compose it.