Final Draft - Clogged

Settled in a cottage in Scotland resides a mother who dumps tea leaves into a pot as she orders her son Timothy to do her job. The boy punishes himself when he is even thinking of something wrong and never ever frowns or furrows his eyebrows. His mother goes to college and at the same time tries to make ends meet. She may sound like a fascinating mother but ever so often she makes 10 year old Timothy do her homework for her. Things like this made it hard for him to enjoy leisure like juggling and riding his unicycle.

 One day, he trudged his steps across room as he was contemplating on how is mother could make him write a 20 page paper. But then he lowered his eyes. How could I be angry at the woman who raised me? So he brought his fingers to the type writer and fiercely pounded on the keys as he finished her report. He later gobbled a pound of dirt and let all the wet and bitter matter seep down his throat for thinking such horrible thoughts about his mother earlier.

His mother came through the door and pinched his cheeks "So the professor sez tae me that I was lazy, but I sez Naw am not! With this I can prove it. Ooo honey let me give you a nip” She smiled and tossed him some food. As she walked away he thought to himself how much he wanted to throw the lentils and spinach to the floor and wished his mother would listen to him at least once. Again, he lowered his eyes and continued to eat the lentils and spinach, as tears welled up. He later punished himself by eating a pile of dirt once again, and sleeping with the pigs that night.

In the morning, the mother looked out her window with her eyes attentive to the pig pen and shrugged her shoulders. Watta goon she thought. The neurons inside his body were smashing into a million pieces as all she did was look at him through a lense of entertainment.

Some old lady passed by the farm and notified the mother that her son is in the pig pen. The mother smiled and said, "Don worry Lassie, dawz it all za time"

Timothy then began to twitch and cocked his head back. His eyes started to turn red, as his face was flushed to reveal no pigment. The mother could not help but tilt her head back and let out a loud and shrilling giggle. "Oh Timothy. Don’t worry lassie, it’s jist some jig he came up with, creative no?"

The old lady looked at the mother in shock and proceeded to call an ambulance but he couldn't sustain himself so he lay there like a rotten corpse. When the mother realized what had happened she began to recklessly pound the ground as tears started to make her mascara run. Her foundation mixed with her heavy flow of tears creating an effect that made her look like herself internally. She ran into her son's room and ripped her 20 page report to shreds.

A couple years later, Melissa moved to the city after failing college and became a secretary for a huge business firm, in New York City; populated by people who would say yes rather than aye and walked fiercely as if they are always in a rush. One day her boss told her to write him a 20 page paper due midnight. Her heart began to pound, and her head twitched. She excused herself into the bathroom and ate a pound of dirt from the flower pot. Then the keys clacked quickly as Melissa began to finally do her job.

Draft #3

As the mother dumps tea leaves into the pot she resumes to order around her son. Settled in a cottage in Scotland resides a boy by the name of Timothy. He is the kind of guy who punishes himself when he is even thinking of something wrong and never frowns or furrows his eyebrows. Even though occasionally he is on the verge of breaking his mother's neck he calms himself down and smiles at what he has and not at what temporarily makes him discontent. His mother goes to college and at the same time tries to make ends meet. She may sound like a fascinating mother but ever so often she makes 10 year old Timothy do her homework for her. Things like this made it hard for him to enjoy leisure like juggling and riding his unicycle.

One day, he stomped all the way to room as he was contemplating on how is mother could make him write a 20 page paper. He then lowered his eyes and thought to himself. How could I be angry at the woman who raised me? So he brought his fingers to the type writer and finished the 20 page paper in less than 2 hours. He then gobbled a pound of dirt and let all the wet and bitter matter seep down his throat. He had to punish himself for thinking such horrible thoughts about his mother earlier.

When Timothy was done his mother came through the door and pinched his cheeks "OOO darling thank you so much! You know I love you the most right? I made you your favorite food for dinner; lentils and spinach." She smiled and tossed the food to his table. As she walked away he thought to himself how much he wanted to throw the lentils and spinach to the floor and wished his mother would listen to him at least once. Again, he lowered his eyes and continued to eat the lentils and spinach, as tears welled up. I am so ungrateful, He thought. He later punished himself by eating a pile of dirt once again, and sleeping with the pigs that night.

The thoughts of harming his mother was racing through his head so much that he began to lose all sense. As the mother looked out the window of her shack she shrugged her shoulders and thought to herself What a weird...WEIRD boy. His acts made the mother's brain bounce all over the place as she wondered how she could a raise a boy to be so 'abnormal' as she would say. She came to the conclusion that it was just his way of relaxing when it was really something that was shattering the neurons inside his body into a million pieces.

Some old lady passed by the farm and notified the mother that her son is in the pig pen. The mother smiled and said, "I know."

"No, ma'am I did something wrong... I've pictured in my head expressions of anger towards my mother! I don't deserve shelter or living!" yelped Timothy to the old lady.

"Get out of there! It is so unsanitary," she groaned as he started to shove dirt in his mouth. "Oh no! What are you doing?!"

"Don't worry about it, he does it all the time," said the mother. Timothy later began to twitch and cocked his head back. His eyes started to turn red, as his face became purple. The mother could not help but tilt her head back and let out a loud and shrilling giggle.

"Oh you're so cute Timothy. Is this is some weird dance you came up with?"

The old lady looked at the mother in shock and proceeded to call an ambulance. "What kind of mother are you!? Don't you see that he is having a seizure?!"

"Excuse me. I am studying to become a nurse and I think I know what a seizure looks like when I see one." Timothy stopped moving and the mother giggled again. "He's playing dead, how cute..."

The little boy couldn't sustain himself until the ambulance came so he lay there like a rotten corpse as the old lady convinced the mother that he will no longer be with her. She began to recklessly pound the ground as tears flowed down her cheeks. She ran into her son's room and took her 20 page report and ripped it to shreds. How could I not have known that I was the one that made him abnormal?

A couple months later, after all the mourning Melissa moved to the city and let her issues in raising her son help her in parenting her newborn daughter Tika. She failed college and became a secretary for a huge business firm populated by people with different dialects and manner in presentation. One day her boss told her to write him a 20 page paper due the next day. Her heart began to pound as she thought of the incident so she excused herself into the bathroom and ate a pound of dirt from the flower pot. Then the keys clacked quickly as Melissa began to finally do her job.

Reflection:

Before I wanted to show a change in my protagonist Melissa and I feel like now it is more evident. Now I just need to condense my writing and at the same time evoke a power that will make the reader feel some sentimental connection towards my piece. I also need to fix my grammar. I used to writing only two periods for an ellipses when I should really be using 3. I make careless mistakes as well that may distract a reader as they are following along. The last thing I feel I need to work on is shortening my story because as of now I have 860. Overall, I hope to improve the execution of my story and in the end make a final published piece that I will be proud of a leave no room for error.

Reflection #5 - Dear Reader

As an incoming senior I felt that at that point I was a well enough write and did not have much to learn. But what I realized is that all along I have been learning how to write generically. I would have a format to abide by and everyone in my class would basically write over the same topic. Before my first semester of senior I lacked creativity in writing because all I did was persuasive essays, thematic essays, critical lens and etc. I honestly had no goals coming in. But as I thought it over I am not as good as a writer as I thought. Eventually my goals all revolved the simple fact that I want to make a piece that was considerably attractive. Meaning that I want something that makes the reader want to know the end, or maybe even be inspired. By doing so I also knew that I had to set goals in improving my technique, and the way I describe things to the reader by using the method of "show don't tell". I do feel like achieved my goals in a way. I think improvement is evident through my writing but I also feel that I have a lot to learn. I can attract a variety of audiences, but not all. And I think that's good enough for me. Now I need to set new goals for the future.

My struggles as an incoming senior for writing was that I found all of that writing out your feelings, and describing things with the five senses to be extremely lame. But as I began to create my own fiction pieces I have come to realize that all of my favorite authors use these techniques that I have I always neglected to be corny. I also struggled in thinking that my writing is good when it is complete and utter trash and it takes a peer editor for me to notice that. I still need to work on writing with more variety and expanding my ability to make something imaginative yet understandable. It seems that the only stories that I can write are realistic fiction and I would love to do fantasies, and sci-fi and other things of that nature. Methods that have worked for me are subtext, and using the 5 senses to describe an event so that the reader can feel like they know what is going on.

Besides Fiction Writing, I have also taken Math 150, Astronomy 101, and Government and Economics. I am satisfied with my grade in Fiction Writing I just hope to see improvement in the next quarter. For Math 150 I am still a little worried of not receiving the A I was planning to get but with all the dedication I am putting into my studying if I get and A on the final I can get into Calculus 2. For Astronomy 101 I get lazy and I never study for that class. The topic bores me and I can't wait to get into a new science or English 120 the next term. If all goes well I will receive an A- in the class. Lastly for Government and Economics I have never been the type to be aware of global issues. This year, Mr. Froner has made it his goal to make us more proactive and aware of all the things that are happening around the world as well as developing our critical thinking. I am not satisfied with my first quarter grade in his class because if I studied for his midterm and participated I could have received a higher grade. Even so, I'll use those mistake to make sure that history will not repeat itself and I will hopefully get a higher grade this marking period.

In one year I honestly see myself struggling trying to pay for college and maintain a good GPA. But even through I see myself struggling I also see myself with the satisfaction of achieving my goals for that semester. I plan to go to an out of state college to study architecture. Since I will receive no financial aid from my parents I expect it to be very difficult. So my goal is to persevere and achieve my goal without letting all the negativity get to me. In 5 years I see myself in my last year of my 5 year architecture program trying to get graduate with a masters. In 10 years I have hopefully received my PHD by now and I am in Dominican Republic trying to create my own architecture firm. Like any other girl, I hope to be in a long-lasting relationship. And I ultimately want to be in good terms with my family by then. I plan on achieving these goals by simply believing in myself. If I say that the work is impossible or not for me I know that getting what I want will not come to me. I like to live by the saying "Caminante no hay camino, se hace camino al andar" by Joan Manuel Serat. This quote basically means that you have to do something in order to get you want  and that you can't expect everything to come to you by simply sitting down. Sometimes in life people may think it's somewhat selfish to care about your own life instead of helping out with global issues. But I feel that I have no power in order to make change in the world. Others may disagree but I feel that I must help myself before confronting the world. And so by exuding in independence and never admitting to failure I will get what I ultimately want.

Although stating my goals of becoming an architect may seem off topic it is not for writing is one of greatest tools that will help me to get there. In order to be an architect one must also be an eclectic. As a writer I am someone who writes whatever comes to mind and then further edits my writing as I read it 3 or 4 times. This technique has worked out for me and each and every time I see improvements in my writing. I think I need to be a successful writer in order to persuade people, inform people, and be able to articulate myself in a manner that is acceptable in this community. Not only does writing help me pass classes in English but it also allows me to become better at every other subject. It allows me to comprehend scientific concepts, and logic in math. It also allows me to look through history and appreciate it's complexities. Writing allows me to understand human nature and further my developments in communication. I feel that that in anything I do I can use writing towards my benefit.

So far in fiction writing I have learned many techniques and the importance of them. I have learned how to incorporate dialogue and how to use subtext at the same time. I also learned the importance of characterization and how I can use setting, as well as dialogue to strengthen it. Besides saying she was a young lady I can make my character play jump rope to imply that she is a young lady. With that it can also make the reader believe that my character is either playful or childish. I have learned that these techniques are not a waste of time to learn about they really strengthen your writing, and enhances your writing.

My favorite journal was the journal where I had to describe a trashy and classy person. Because I brought out the characterization of both of my characters using 2 different methods. It showed that there are many ways to describe a character through a story. I also liked creating my subtext writing. It was fun to create a piece that had a subtle message but had enough information for one to know what I am talking about. The concept that was easiest for me to incorporate in my writing is sensory detail. The ability to use the 5 senses has always been my strong point. The hardest part is being economical with what I write and in the end proposing a plot that is strong enough to be called a story. Whats hardest for me is internal dialogue. It is hard for me to put realistic qualities into an imaginative character. Most of the time I just keep writing until I feel that the character matches what I want the reader to see in him. If I cannot express the character in the way I want to I usually change his or her persona and make a  whole new different story. So even with these struggles I still manage to strengthen my skills.

By the end the end of this year I hope to achieve a greater understanding of fiction writing. I also hope to develop more of a habit in creating pieces that will alter the minds of those who read it. I want to make stories that can make the audience cry, or laugh a long with me. Channeling these emotions may be difficult but I hope to get it done. By the end of this pre-college program I hope I can gain more self-confidence without getting to the point where it is like arrogance. I also want to have enough time management skills that will guide e to success. Lastly, hopefully I can develop enough writing skills that can get me into internships for the future by articulating myself with an impressive writing style I have been working hard to develop all year.

This portfolio represents me as a student because it shows my writing process since the beginning till now. I feel that it shows a lot of improvement since the first writing exercise where I just listed things that happened in an event rather than showing the significance and emotions contained in those particular moments. It is also evident through my journals I have progressed as a writer because it shows that through each story I have learned something new about myself and in my writing. I have grown mentally. I can feel that I have matured while creating my writing because I no longer find it useless or 'lame' to express how you're feeling or to give feelings to something brought up by the imagination. In the end I have realized that writing is a work of art like any other piece you create pastels and acrylics. 

Draft #2

Settled in a cottage in Scotland resides a boy by the name of Timothy. He is the kind of guy who punishes himself when he is even thinking of something wrong and never shows any kind of emotion that is related to displeasure. Even though occasionally he is on the verge of breaking his mother's neck he calms himself down and smiles at what he has but not at what temporarily makes him discontent. His mother goes to college and at the same time tried to make ends meet. She may sound like a fascinating mother but ever so often he makes a 10 year old  Timothy do her homework for her. Things like this made it hard for him to do things he wanted like juggling and riding his unicycle. Timothy sometimes in his head even blames her for not allowing him to have a social life but he knows that it's his own fault for not being like most guys. He hated sports and did weird things like collecting the lowest value coins from around the world.

One day, he was so riled up over the though of having to his mother 20 page paper. He was so mad at himself for feeling anger towards his mother that he finished the 20 page paper with all of his efforts and later ate a pound of dirt to punish himself for thinking such horrible things. Timothy was his mother's prized possession. He did well in school and always followed her orders. His sister, on the other hand would scream and yell all over the household and bully Timothy. One time, she started randomly stomping on his feet and Timothy frowned and begged her to stop.

"STOP IT YOU MONGREL!" Timothy cried.

She did not understand what that meant and was confused so she continued to stomp on his feet.
"I am sorry Tika! I promise not to say that ever again! That was such a bad word!"

"Pssh, pussy," she said cackling, and skipped away. Timothy then proceeded to eat a pound of dirt to make up for what he had said to her. He will never think or utter that word again. He was so ashamed of what he did that he couldn't show his face to his family so he spent his day hanging out with the pigs and talking with them. His mother ignored him.Even though she found it unusual she thought is was his way of relaxing himself, when it was really shattering the neurons inside his body into a million pieces.

Some old lady passed by the farm and notified the mother that her son is in the pig pen. The mother smiled and said, "I know."

"No, ma'am I did something wrong... I called my little sister the M-word I don't deserve shelter or living." said Timothy to the old lady.

"The M-word?"

"Miss! Don't make me say it again!" and he continued to shove dirt in his mouth.

"Oh no! What are you doing?!"

"Don't worry about it, he does it all the time,"said the mother. Timothy later began to twitch and cocking his head back. His eyes started to turn red, as his face became purple. The mother could not help but laugh.

"Oh you're so cute Timothy. This is some weird dance you came up with."

The old lady looked at the mother in shock and proceeded to call an ambulance. "What kind of mother are you!? Don't you see that he is having a seizure?!!"

"Excuse me. I am studying to become a nurse and I think I know what a seizure looks like when I see one." Timothy stopped moving and the mother giggled again. "He's playing dead, how cute..."

The old women ran to Timothy to feel his heartbeat and notified that he was still alive. "Told you so," said the mother.But the little boy couldn't sustain himself until the ambulance came ad he lay there like a rotten corpse as the old lady convinced him that he will no longer be with him. She started screeching and tearing up and ripped her 20 page paper into pieces just like her heart. "It's all because of this."

A couple months later, after all the mourning Melissa moved to the city and has let  her issues in raising her son help her in parenting Tika. She failed college and became a secretary for a huge business firm populated by people with different dialects and manner in presentation. One day her boss told her to write him a  20 page paper due the next day. She looked at the flower pot on her desk and stuffed the dirt down her boss' face.

Reflection:
Moving towards creating my sudden fiction into something satifactual in my standards I plan on improving on a variety of things. I would like to incorporate setting more effectively in my writing. One of the ways I plan on doing this is matching the atmosphere to the tone of the story, or make the setting help characterize my characters. The only usefulness that my setting has towards my writing is to get in of sense of their class, and this case they are undergoing poverty. I have also broken the 500 word rule and went to around 700 words or more. I also need to include more details rather than saying "Timothy was irate," I could describe actions that are used to portray that. There are some grammatical errors here, and there that I carelessly let happen. I wish to further explain the moment in which Melissa shoved dirt down her bosses throat, and subtly explain more the significance of that moment. I feel that I go too deep into explaining Timothy through authorial interpretation in the beginning that it gets boring, and I need to cut down on the descriptions that are irrelevant to my story. Hopefully through these changes I can accomplish the kind of writing that I will be proud to hand in, or read aloud to anyone who cares to listen.

Journal 11 B

Michael ran to the train before it left but managed his way inside the train before the doors closed which banged his suitcase causing it to open. Before the contents of his briefcase could be exposed to the public he quickly closed it and wiped the sweat off is forehead "Pheew that was close." He transferred to the D and when he arrived he walked into his studio. "Hey girlfriend, how ya doing?"
"Just fine thanks, I gotta get dressed." He took off his business attire and started to take out to take out the weave from his briefcase and put it on. He then started to look through his closet and couldn't decide on what to wear.
"How about that one?" his friend said.
"Mmmm no, I think i'll stick with this polka dotted dress, it's my favorite," he smiled.
"Michelle, you're up!" the announcer called.
As Michael approached the stage in his 4 inch heels, men immediately started throwing flowers at him. He was the star of the show. He did his little dance, and then slid to the piano as he began to play one his favorite songs. By the end everybody rioted and the amount of money thrown at him was enough to satisfy him for the day.When he left the stage a man grabbed his ass. Michael frowned but when he faced him he said "Ooooh you naughty man,"
The man handed hima bouquet of flowers and said "Michael?"
Michael realized that, that was his boss.

Journal 11A Extraordinary VS Ordinary

Grand Central Station:
Coming back to the city from Connecticut, he knew it was going to be hectic. He had just stepped his foot on the platform that was automatically moving. He no longer had to walk to the exit door. Controlling his luggage with the remote control, Jacquzee looked up and saw no soul on the terminal. The place shimmered like diamond and was empty. “Hello,” he said, echoing across the place, “Is there anybody out there?”

Nebula 18 on the Andromeda Galaxy:
Jacquzee lived in a small cottage. He would always wear his bubble jacket that kept him cozy and warm. He would look out his window and see the same boring buildings and busy roads everyday. Once a month, he would drive to the nearest McDonalds and treat himself with a Big Mac. During the nighttime, he would wear his special suit that would hold him down to gravity.