Time to......Say Goodbye!

Melissa Shaw
Prof. Quinlan
December 10, 2008

Blogging 101/ ENG 330-60

When I came into this class and was confronted with the word blog, I was lost. All I could think about was Rosie O’Donnell and how she would go on and on about her blog in her idiotic talk shows. Once Professor Quinlan mentioned that a good portion of our grade would come about from our blog, I thought to myself…you have no choice but to go into blog mode.
So that night, I sat in front of my computer looking aimlessly at blogs trying to get some insight. Suddenly, I had an epiphany; I had been participating (well kind of) in a blog all along. A beloved friend of mine, Aaron, had/has a blog that depicts his life story. I’ve frequented the site, but thought of it as nothing more than a journal/ coping mechanism (for his mom).
Anyway, at this point, I was completely gung-ho about blogging. Once I set up my account and posted my first post, it became addicting. Blog can be as addicting as myspace or facebook, especially when you go out of your way to make a blog that you don’t have a professor looking over. (Trust me, I made another blog where I didn’t have to watch my punctuation and/or grammar.)
In any event, once I started, I couldn’t stop. I found myself incorporating videos on the side of my blog, but I don’t really know if anyone looked at them. One thing I have to say about blogging is I would have appreciated any comments; even comments that had nothing to do with what I wrote about would have been fine.
I really enjoy the fact that a blog can be a point of communication. Ideally you could have a great writing class that just took place via the internet using a blog. (Of course with a few classes in person that discuss setting up a blog.)
On the other hand, the class itself was quiet interesting. The tactics used for the development of writing were very encouraging and in the end produced pieces that I know, I would never be comfortable writing on my own. I can remember our hitch hiker exercise and how it produced something that I know I would never write in my life.
Also, we wrote a short piece about being invited to a party by someone whom we weren’t fond of. That triggered a piece that I found to be unbelievable. In this instance, I wrote about my neighbor, whom I am convinced is a child molester. It was creepy. I wrote things down that I never thought I’d ever imagine. I guess I let my mind go wild. It was like I was a writer for Law & Order; thinking of those disgusting things.
One of the most useful things I gained from this class was workshopping. I wrote one story in particular, a haunting/possession story that I was in no way comfortable with. The feedback I received back was so well thought out and all taken into consideration when I did my edit and extension. In the development of this story my one tactic was to make the story come full circle, and incorporate all the aspects that my classmates stated I include.
All in all, the development of this class was one that was extremely thought out, especially by incorporating the technology of today. Professor Quinlan did an excellent job by incorporating blogging into the class, because believe it or not, we are all now published writer; published blog writers. If this isn’t a stepping stone into our future of writing, I don’t know what is.
The only downside I found was some people slacking on the blogging aspect of class. I found it hard at times to comment on peoples pages because either they hadn’t blogged in a month or the topics written about were just random.
In any event, the good outweighed the bad and I could never shame this class because it was always inspiring. I can remember the readings of my other classmate’s stories and how they wrote about obsessions with things that come in threes, aliens taking over, and the loss of an extremely expensive pair of shoes. All of the things my peers brought to the table will always remain with me.
Through it all, we shared many laughs, perhaps a few tears, and some moments that were just too serious for any emotion. It is truly amazing how writing affects people and the emotions it causes. Who would think that in one story you would worry about a man out running a militia, laugh at him losing his expensive shoes, and share the feeling of concern with his father?
I would like to end on a light note. At the end of the day, when we look back at our class…we can always look to our good ‘ol Irish (I really mean Scots) man, to read us in his manly brogue the life of the Dubliners, no matter how gitty and drunk those Irish get. As a final note, I could not be any happier with my last class as an undergraduate, it was truly a course worth taking. AMEN!

Signed: Your Secret Admirer

These are 10 writers I admire:

1. Stephenie Meyer
www.stepheniemeyer.com
I'm sure you've all heard about her by now. TWILIGHT! Anyway, she's amazing! She is the only and will be the only vampire book I ever read in my life.

2. Maria Shriver (aka Mrs. Schwarzenegger)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maria_Shriver
Needless to say, she only really has a website about acting or politics, but she does write books. Books on subjects you probably have a difficult time discussing with children. Anyway, she does an awesome job, and I use her books all the time.

3. God
http://english.sdaglobal.org/question/author.htm
He doesn't have a website, but he wrote this really awesome book called The Bible and I find it very helpful. Especially when you're writing a paper that incorporate religions and you need some good quotes. Also, it can set you on a spiritual journey...if you're at that point in your life.

4. Dave Pelzer
http://www.davepelzer.com/
Holy smokes! If you think you have it rough, take a moment to read Dave Pelzer's book, A Child Called It, it will simply amaze you. He is a great author that depicts the most vulnerable moments of a child's life, his own.

5. Shel Silverstein
http://www.shelsilverstein.com/indexSite.html
Needless to say, since I was a kid I wanted to be this man. He ways of writing poetry, that made it seem so much fun. It was because of this man that I've grown appreciation for rhyme and rhythm.

6. Marilyn Sachs
http://www.marilynsachs.com/
Well, let's just say this past summer, I decided I needed to read something, anything...cover to cover...and I didn't want it to be difficult. I picked up Marilyn Sachs' book The Fat Girl I was drawn in and finished the book in 2 days. I felt a connection with the character in the beginning...but really want the change that occured to the main character in the book (in time that change will come...I suppose). Anyway, I like the way she writes....don't mind that she's a young adult writer...she's still good.

7. Lois Lowry
http://www.loislowry.com/
I'm sure we've all either read The Giver or Number the Stars written by this author. Well, if you haven't, you really need to read one. Not only are they both a journey, but they are a way of learning.

8. C.S. Lewis
http://www.cslewis.org/
C.S. Lewis wrote stories that bring light to biblical stories. Not only does he journey to the other side of a wardrobe, but he takes you off to distant lands that seems almost unimaginable.

9. Edgar Allan Poe
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edgar_Allan_Poe
Never did I think I'd actually hear the beating of a heart through poetry...but this amazing poet did exactly that. I've never been so frightened as I was when I read Poe's The Tell Tale Heart. If you haven't read him...and you're an English major...you should go online...look him up...and read read away!!!!! I'm talking about NOW....right NOW!

10. Walt Whitman
http://www.whitmanarchive.org/
This man wrote one of the most intriguing poems about war, it's entitled O Captain My Captain. If you're interested in any history....read this poem and see if you can see who Whitman is talking about. Good luck!

Readings= Drivining= Gas= Money....to say the least...it costs money...I don't have!

Needless to say, when it comes to readings, I just can't afford it. When it comes to any reading that interests me...it's a distance away from where I am.

Let's put it this way, I live in Sussex County and all of these "Readings" take place in either...Clifton, Paramus, or NYC, and let's face it I barely have enough money to make it to William Paterson. I could go to readings up here, but they are all by authors of children's books. While I'm sure those readings are fun and filled with excitement, I just find they don't suite my age.

Since, I am an aspiring teacher and work at a school, I have met several authors, such as Dan Gutman. The authors I have met write books geared towards elementary school children, so I don't think that counts for anything. I can tell you one thing, and that is that these children authors I've met have inspired me.

Dan Gutman decided to write books on a plethora of sports because when he was a child there weren't any books on sports...and so this has inspired me to try to "dumb down" some books for students who have special needs. I feel that by keeping the cover of the book and the general content the same, those with special needs won't feel the separation between them and the general education population.

On the other hand, I hope to one day, when I have the time and money, to go to a reading and truly enjoy all that it has to offer. As for where I am right now with finances and everything, I don't think that will happen for a while, but someday.

Holy 10 pages!

I finally finished my ten pages! Well, I finished them Wednesday night...and I'm posting a bit late...but I can say that I'm happy with how my story went. I know there will be alot of edits to make. (As I hadn't edited it more than once). One thing I'm struggling with and really need to work on as a writer is tenses. I just can't get it because my mind is moving so quickly and my hands aren't keeping up so I just keep writing because I don't want my thoughts to escape me. Anyway....I'll email it to someone if they care to read my finished document...I just don't want to post it because it's so long.

Well, that's all for now....

4 pg.s edited since the workshop...soon to be 10 pgs

And so the Lion Fell in Love With the Lamb
There was something about her, something that caught my eye. She stood there with a gazed look in her eye, her long brown hair draping her shoulders. It was as if she was a porcelain doll that had come to life.
I stood there mesmerized by her beauty. A beauty so overwhelming that it is hard to capture in words. Every curve of her body was caressed by the red silk dress she wore and her blue eyes were like pure crystal that they glistened across the room. There was no way that I could approach her. My body trembled with the fear of rejection. I tried to stand as close to her as I possible just to hear her soft spoken voice, but the noise that filled the room was unbearable.
There I stood next to the most beautiful sight I had ever seen, unable to speak a word, or to hear anything because of the utter chaos that was going on in the room around me. The room was dark, with tapestry covering the grey stone walls, and I could barely see the crimson drapes that hung on the window in front of me. I felt like a bee in a swarm of people as we all gathered (nearly forty of us) to hear the mysterious tale of the building we’d be exploring. The more and more I paid attention the further this beautiful girl slipped away from me.
One moment, she stood next to me, the next she was down the hall disappearing into the darkness. I felt so alone and helpless without having her near me. It was as if I were an infant and my mother left me on the front step of a church crying hysterically. I tried to push my way through the crowd of people, but the closer I got to her the more her presence faded.
Suddenly, my heart began racing. From one beat to the next I could feel my heart slowly sink to the pit of my stomach. The girl whom I was falling for had slipped from my hands, and my soul felt like a barren desert wasteland. It felt like I was punched in the stomach in more ways than one, like a force was holding me back from her.
The more I tried to move down the never-ending hallway the harsher the pain had gotten. I thought to myself, "Is this girl worth all the pain I am enduring?" The pain got more intense, it felt as if some outside force had gone into my abdomen and twisted my intestines. I could feel myself being ripped apart from the inside out as I fell on to the floor. There was something…something terribly wrong.
I could feel someone or something slowly whisper in my ear that everything would be okay. I looked around me and there was no one. There was no longer anyone surrounding me. I was left alone only to see the gargoyles that cascaded the walls staring blankly at me.
I could not take my hand from my stomach; the pain was so unbearable. I looked down because I felt dampness, as I lifted my hand it was saturated in blood. I could not stop myself from thinking "Oh my God! I'm dying…I'm going to die here alone."
The more I thought about the girl I had fallen in love with the more the blood came protruding out of my abdomen. I didn't know what to do. I slowly began to rise from the floor, trying to make my way down the hall and some force from behind me pushed me forward . It was like being hit by a sixteen wheeler from behind.
As I flew forward all I could see was darkness and images of my life floating before me; images of the bitter emptiness I had felt for years. The pain I went through with my dead-beat drunken father beating me day in and day out. The prostitute of a mother that I had, that misguided my understanding of respect for females. Then finally images of the girl I had laid eyes upon; the girl who would take away my worries and pain.
With these scattered images floating about and being shoved forward, I came to a halt, and what lay ahead of me was the most horrific thing I had ever seen in my life. My dream girl, the one with whom I had laid eyes upon a few moments prior was being mutalated before my eyes. She was cut with a razor sharp blade several times leaving the markings of a hex across her chest. I looked around searching to fight off this person, only to see that no one was there. With every look at my loves unresponsive body the more enraged I got.
As I reached my hand forward to caress her face and kiss her soft lips I noticed that my hands were now covered in blood. What had happened? God, did I do something wrong? All of the sudden I felt my chest pull outward and felt my soul soar above my body. My soul and body were now separate. My conscious mind was now peering down at my body which appeared to be in an erect comatose state. As I looked down toward my body I heard myself say "Dies Irae." I had no clue what this meant, but I could tell you it was Latin. I felt my soul soar as if it were trying to defeat the demon that had now possessed my body.
I saw my now possessed body move quickly down the darkened hallway. The only things to provide light to the hallway were the candelabra's. My eyes were glaring with rage as my body got closer and closer to the people who were initially surrounding me. My demon possessed body entered the pipe organ room at the end of the hallway. The room painted in the palest of white and the wooden floor creaked as you walked across it. My body had made itself known. "My name is Lived" he said sternly. All the chatter that was going about in the room ceased.
People were now trembling at the sight of my demon possessed body. It was as if they knew something was going on. They knew that something terrible was going to come out of this. The porcelain white walls had suddenly become blood stained as blood came trickling out of each crack. "Lived" lifted his hands and pronounced "Dies Irae" again.
Each person in the room looked blankly at one another in shock, they could not believe what was happening. Someone whispered…"Does anyone know what he is saying?" Slowly the whisper was passed around the room, and the whisper came to a halt when Father George yelled out "He's saying The Day of Wrath. He's speaking Latin." The room hushed as "Lived" began speaking in tongues. His eyes drawn outward from his face as if they were to pierce every human soul in the room, the walls began to shake, and people began running toward any outlet they could find.
"God, help us!" they all screamed as they were running away. You could hear the whispered prayers of people as they began to flee the area of "Lived", but as soon as they began their prayers the voices were silenced. "Lived" had taken the power of verbal prayer away from them. The room was filled with the sound of stomping feet, like a heard of wild animals fleeing a predator. Then it came to a stop, all those who were running fell to the ground.

Writing and Emotion/Grief

There are tons of things in our environment that provoke emotion. However, when something unexpected happens it can provoke thought so intense that it just has to be written down.

One true example of this emotional writing can be viewed at my friends website (www.aarongeorgehill.com). If you take a glance at his page...it will take you to his blog (journal) and you can read his story.

Once you begin reading, you'll learn a lot about my friend Aaron. In 2002,, he was in a terrible car accident that, more or less, left him brain dead. His mother kept him alive for as long as he could until he passed July 4th 2008. In any event the blog and page a way for his mother to grieve the loss of his son.

I truly believe that if you're mad, upset, or just start crying for no reason...you need to grab a piece of paper and let your feelings out on paper. You don't know how many times I have written hate letters to my boss in MS Word (then deleted them)....written to God asking why.....and just wrote because I didn't know why I was crying. It truly is a great way to help you cope with the feelings that rush your body.

I don't know how to explain it....but it truly works! If you don't believe me...just look at my friends page and maybe it'll be put things into perspective.

Assignment: Story...Plot: Good/Bad News... Element: Cell Phone

The tail lights leave a red path down the fallen snow. Slowly, the red lights fade, and a young man steps out of his silver sedan. He seems to be a bit frustrated, as he paces back and forth, leaving the white, crisp blanket of snow shaken in turmoil. He lets out a deep breath in to the cool dark air leaving a trail of smoke behind him.
He frantically searches in his pockets, only to be startled, he opens the driver’s side door. He quickly peaks his head inside to grab something and closes the door in such a fashion that you wouldn’t even notice his presence. He catches his breath and takes one step down the old cobblestone driveway only to be closer to the house.
Suddenly he comes to an abrupt halt; it’s as if he is frozen. He has a stone cold look on his face that only a chisel could break. Suddenly, you hear the sound of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony playing; the young man frantically reaches in his pocket, only to answer his cell phone. He says “Hello? …Mom? ... Listen, I really can’t talk right now. I’m in the middle of something. … I’ll call you back later. Okay? ... Love you, bye.”
At this point, he has beads of sweat falling from his forehead; he pulls a hankie from the right pocket of his leather jacket and wipes away the perspiration. Gently, he folds the hankie and places it back in his pocket. With hesitation, he takes another step towards the front door of the house. A frantic look comes across his face, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes glazed over; he only has a few more steps to take before he’s at the front door.
He takes three more steps, and extends his hand to the doorbell. As he is about to ring the bell, you hear Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony again. He reaches into his pocket only to shut off his phone completely. Again, he extends his arm and this time he presses the doorbell, only to hear the “ding-dong” noise come from inside the house. He takes one step back to allow the person inside to open the door, but no one arrives. He takes a deep breath, letting out a big sigh and rings the doorbell again, “ding-dong”, this time a young woman with shoulder length blond hair, hazel eyes, dressed in a white t-shirt and boxer shorts that read “Eat my shorts” answers the door.
The woman says “John! What are you doing here? It’s Wednesday, you never come to visit on Wednesdays, especially when it’s snowy like this outside.” He takes a deep breath and lets it all out. Smiling at her, he lets out a little chuckle. “What’s so funny hon?” the young woman says. He leans towards her, wraps his arms around her and says “I just came because I missed you and needed to see you, is that okay Meliss?” “I suppose…but why don’t you come inside, it’s cold out there!”
John walks inside the house and Melissa removes his jacket and hangs it in the hallway closet.
“John, can I get you something to drink? How about coffee or something hot?” “No….nothing hot, just a bottle of water.”
Melissa comes back with an ice cold bottle of water and sits down beside John on the couch, as the watch the end of Family Guy.
“So John, why did you come up? I rarely see you during the week. I usually see you on the weekends.”
“Well Melissa, there is something important I need to talk to you about.”
“What?”
The room suddenly has a hush of silence; the television is shut off and no one else is in the room except John and Melissa. John gazes into Melissa’s eyes as he begins to speak.
“Melissa, we’ve been dating for four years now, right?”
“Yes…”
“Well, I think it’s time…”
“Time to what?” she says frantically as tears begin to fall down her face.
He softly kisses her cheek and wipes away her tears; pushing her hair behind one ear. She closes her eyes tightly as a waterfall of tears flows from her eyes, running streaks of black mascara down her face.
“Well, I think it’s time… (He gets down on one knee) time that we take the next step and spend the rest of our lives together.”
Blindsided by what has just happened Melissa’s frown turns into smile, yet the tears are still pouring down her face.
“Yes” she responds.
“There is nothing more I’d like to do than spend the rest of my life with you.”
John is overjoyed; he now has a full-on smile. It seems as if his hesitation, pacing back and forth, and excessive perspiration all paid off. Melissa looks at John with a cockeyed look on her face.
“I thought you were about to break up with me for a second, but this turned out to be the best day of my life! We have to share the good news…who should we call first?”
John went to the hallway closet and pulled out his cell phone and dialed his mother’s phone. After three rings his mom answers.
“Mom? Melissa has something to tell you.”
“Mrs.Doughty? Your son just asked me to marry him!”

TO BE CONTINUED….

Frog Prince/ Frog King

Please scroll down on my page and on the left you'll see a few YouTube videos. I don't know if you guys remember...but when I was a kid I watched this show...and it just so happens its on what we had to read for today's class. So, take a gander and see how Jim Henson interpreted Grimm's The Frog Prince. It's hilarious and it brings back great memories!

The Best Literary Websites EVER!!! (Well...so far...)

1. http://www.eyeshot.net/

Believe it or not... I love poetry! But only the poetry that makes sense...not leaving me playing a guessing game. Well anyway, the literary website above has been developed by Lee Klein, and whether you like him or not he leaves with many experiments to work with when developing writing. For example, in his series “Rejection Letters from the Eyeshot Outbox” he describes, in the brackets of implication, his editorial stance as an unabashed sneer. All in all he's a very interesting character...so by all means feel free to take a peek, if you so wish.

2. http://www.poormojo.org/

This website is entitled Poor Mojo's Almanac(k). More or less it is an online journal touching on numerous subjects from Giant Squid to poetry. All in all, I look to this site for any type of inspiration...whether it be to let my feelings out on paper or to help fight writers block. It's truly a great site...if you take a look around.

3. http://www.hobartpulp.com/website/november/ulea.html

More or less I came across this website purely by mistake a couple of weeks ago. I was trying to do some research of Hobart hall at Willy P and this site popped up...and guess what? It's a literary website....and you can actually submit stuff for print there. Just take a gander and hopefully you'll be as surprised as I was.


Conclusion:

If you ever find yourself in a rut...or you're just stumped...just take a look at these website and something will come to you...I promise! If not, you can always blame your writers block on me...or the apple that fell down from the sky and bopped you on the head. Whatever floats your boat. Well...happy literating! (Don't think that's a word...but oh well!)

Literary Excellence

What in the world is literary excellence?

According to dictionary.com I have discovered the meaning of both terms:

Literary- (adj)
1.
pertaining to or of the nature of books and writings, esp. those classed as literature: literary history.
2.
pertaining to authorship: literary style.
3.
versed in or acquainted with literature; well-read.
4.
engaged in or having the profession of literature or writing: a literary man.
5.
characterized by an excessive or affected display of learning; stilted; pedantic.
6.
preferring books to actual experience; bookish.

Excellence-(noun)

1.
the fact or state of excelling; superiority; eminence: his excellence in mathematics.
2.
an excellent quality or feature: Use of herbs is one of the excellences of French cuisine.
3.
(usually initial capital letter) excellency (def. 1).


So...this is my conclusion....

Literary excellence is a form of writing which is superior to ones self in regards to others. For example, literary excellence in my opinion could be something that originally had potential and after many revisions, and effort put through a superior document was created. All in all, I feel that we need to strive for literary excellence if we so desire, to stand out amongst the great writers of the literary world. In the end, I suggest that all take the time, and set forth their ideas...and strive for great success.

A little comic relief...from the hospital

New hair style: $68

6 hours of working at the hospital: $96

Looking down the hallway and see nothing but a patients bare backside.....PRICELESS

For everything else in life.....use a blindfold

The Wubulous World of Books That I'm Reading

So, we were asked to blog about something we're reading in another class. Well, I only have one other class, and that is Technical Writing. Therefore, the only book I'm reading (for that class) is Technical Writing for a Technical World (or something like that). It's a pretty boring book...just a ton of information spewed out....and you try to absorb it in your brain, but it's pretty impossible to know everything that the book is trying to tell you.

Anyway, on the other hand, I am currently teaching some classes (grades K-5) and every now and then I tutor. So, if you want to know what I'm having my students read (which in turn means I'm reading the book as well) I'll be more than happy to tell you about it.

The book that my 5th grade students are reading is called Number the Stars by Lois Lowry. This book is pivotal to what we are learning about in social studies at the current moment, the Holocaust. The book shows you what it was like to live during this era being Jewish in Copenhagen, Denmark. It encourages an array of emotion, and at times can be almost overwhelming (especially for my 5th grade students).

As a teacher, I feel that it is important to read this book aloud as a whole class, because it adds a different element. (Especially because many of my students just stare at the words on the page...and make no sense of it all). Also, when I read the book aloud it seems to take them on a journey because as I read I use different voices to illuminate each character. I really feel that this book is an important piece of literature, and no matter how old or young you are I suggest you read this book at least once...so that you gain a greater sense of the history of the world.

As for my younger grades (K-2) we are really focusing on brief children's stories or maybe every now and then a "chapter book" such as, Junie B. Jones. Right now, a classic book, I am reading with my 1st and 2nd grade students (because it is a combined class) is Where the Wild Things Are. I'm sure you are all familiar with this book and the journey it can take a young child's mind on. It's amazing how the author captivates every aspect of a child. From having the main character (Max) go around the house dressed in a wolf costume to being sent to your room without supper and letting your mind go on a wild journey. It truly is an amazing story, and can be the precursor to letting students see how to let your mind go and get your every thought on paper.

As for my 3rd and 4th grade students I'm really trying to work on finding books that their peers are reading, but are "dumbed" down so that they can read them. In other words, if any of you are ever so compelled (you could make a fortune out of this) take a book/novel, and make it simpler so that my students could read and understand...you'd make a fortune. I've found Shakespeare's A Mid Summer's Night Dream written for their understanding and they loved it. Who would have thought that special education students would love Shakespeare? Anyway...if anyone has any suggestions...please please please...let me know!

Other than that, that's about all I'm reading (for school). For my own pleasure I'm working my way through the Twilight series by Stephenie Meyer. I'm finally on the 3rd book, and I'm absolutely hooked. Can't wait for the movie to come out next month. Well, I hope you found this, at least, somewhat interesting, and perhaps....if you haven't already... you'll pick up Number the Stars and start reading.

-Melissa

Help!!!! This is my 4 page paper...i need some insight

I can remember walking down the hallways of high school day after day being looked at as if I were some type of object. No one ever looked me in the face. It was as if there eyes were always too busy exploring other places on my body. It never really struck me to think about where there eyes were focused. Yet, it was where their eyes were focused that brought me to where I am today.
Here I sit, on a flat white mat covered with a white cloth, and all I can focus on is the clock and the minutes slowly passing by. The clock now read 6:00am, and as each minute passes I can feel my stomach begin to growl. I think to myself "I have been starving myself for the past twelve hours and for what?"
With that thought I begin to examine my past. I think about the hallways of high school; the plain white walls with blue lockers lining each side of the hallway. Suddenly, I begin to think about the numerous confrontations that occur within those hallways. It's almost as if the hallways hold a special value to each clique. You see, in my high school there were a plethora of cliques. You had the jocks, the skaters, the nerds, and the band geeks, and then there was the rest. Where did I fall, in the middle of all these cliques? Well, let's just say I was a part of “the rest.”
"The rest" was in no way a clique. It was just a bunch of people who chose not to associate with any particular group. It was those people who were looked at oddly but, for some reason I was the one who was looked at in an awkward manner the most. I though of myself as an average girl. Yes, I was indeed short in stature, and am still today, but I was always told "good things come in small packages" so I never thought of myself as being any different.
Indeed, everyone knows the struggles that come in high school; finding a date to the prom, sex, parties, and many other things, but none of those things ever fazed me. My high school career was not about whom I was going to prom with or when I would lose my virginity. It was about putting my best foot forward and getting into a good college. I guess in some ways I did break the barriers of a "normal" high schooler, in the sense, but why was I being treated so differently?
As I snapped back into reality, I look back at the clock; it was only forty-five minutes later than the last time I looked at it. The clock reads 6:45 am, and here I am sitting on this white sheet. A young woman approached me, and gave me a top to cover myself, she said "Could you please take off all you garments except for your panties and put this on with the opening in the front?" I slowly began removing each leg from my jeans, and as I proceeded to undress myself again the thoughts of high school reoccurred in my head.
This time, I was sitting in the cafeteria; people were looking at me, looking under the table…at me! All I could think about was why they were doing this. What was under the table that looked so appealing? I would look at my friends surrounding me for an answer but, they all giggled at me as if I were stupid. I never really took notice as to where the table fell on my petite body; the only body parts exposed above the cafeteria table were my shoulders, my neck, and my head. I guess I was so juvenile at the time that I never really took into any thought that what they were looking at beneath the table could be something that would later scar me for life.
Suddenly, I heard a voice say “Melissa, are you dressed in the top I gave you?” I stopped thinking about high school and came to the situation that was developing around me. With a little hesitation in my voice I responded “Yes.” The woman slowly opened the curtain that was surround the mat covered with the white sheet, and said “Melissa, please lie down we’re going to transport you to another room now.” With that, I laid down, on what seemed to be the most sterile bed ever. All I could smell was bleach. Slowly the bed was being pushed an all I could do was look up at the ceiling. Before being moved from one room to the other, I caught one last glimpse of the clock, it read 7:45am.
Time was moving faster than I wanted it to. I wasn’t sure if I was doing the right thing. As the bed I was lying on moved down the hallway, I heard every little crack it went over. It reminded me of the number of people who brought me where I am today. On my journey from one room to the next, I counted seven cracks, and for some reason these seven cracks resembled the seven people. The seven people who were always too busy looking else where than at my face. The seven people: Rob, Dan, Jesse, Brian, Matt, Jamie, and last but not least Will.
As I sat in the room all I could think about was the last of the seven people, Will. Will was the worst out of the seven he never would even make an effort to look me in the eye. He was the one who drew the straw that broke the camel’s back he was the one who woke me up into reality. He was the one I wanted to punch in the face numerous times for pointing it all out. As much as I wanted to deny it existed, it did.
So, there I was lying on this bed, about to go into surgery, and all I could think about is what Will had done. Before entering the operating room, the anesthesiologist approached me and asked me many questions like my name, my date of birth, and if I had a living will. I answered all the questions slowly. “My name is Melissa Veronica Shaw. My date of birth is 9-30-84. I have no living will.” All of the sudden before my anesthesiologist could walk away I grabbed her and said “You want to know why I’m going through with this?” Before she could answer I said “Well, I’m tired of people not looking at my face and focusing on how large my breasts are. I’m tired of the fact that because I have a larger chest people feel its okay to touch without asking. As a matter of fact, there is nothing more I would want right now than to make my chest invisible, but this is the only operation available to me, a breast reduction.” With that the stretcher was transported into the operating room where I was moved onto a cold metal table, and as soon as I was placed on the table my anesthesiologist said “Everything will be okay Melissa, I promise. Now what I want you to do is count backwards from one hundred.” I began to count “100-99-98…” and there I was off to sleep and soon all my troubles would be cut away.

Prompts...can sometimes be a little scary..

Okay, so a friend of mine passed away this past 4th of July and I took the last picture I have of us together and used it for a poetry prompt. It's kind of scary how this turned out...but let me know your insight and how you feel about it.

Melanie's Paper

Hello everyone! I recently took some time to look over Melanie's paper, which was incredibly powerful. It has such potential! I made some comments on certain aspects of the paper as well as some edits. If you would like to see my comments and/or edits. Please copy and paste or click this link: http://docs.google.com/Doc?id=dgsfcqf2_1hmrspzcm

Fiction Writing

If I could say it with passion I would...but when it comes to fiction I'm usually left bored and don't even want to bother. If you didn't notice by now, fiction is not my forte what-so-ever! I'd rather write about real life situations and not get sucked down the fiction path. Everytime I think of a fiction book...all I can think about is mystical beings...and all that hoop-la, and I just don't want to go there.

On the other hand, I have found one very addictive and inspiring fiction writer. The writer is Stephenie Meyer, and she is the author of the new Twilight series. Her writing is impeccable, and I have to admit....she makes the reader fall in love with her character(s).

If there is one fiction writer I aspire to be like...it would be her. I would love to captivate my readers in the way that she does. It is truly amazing.

So, I'm going to make this suggestion for anyone who hates/despises fiction (like I do myself) go to Borders, Barnes & Noble, wherever and just read the first three chapters of Stephenie Meyers Twilight. I honestly think this will change your thinking about fiction...and in the end you might find yourself mimicking her a little bit.

P.S.- If you want to find out more about the author I mentioned, go to her website: www.stepheniemeyer.com

Workshop C...I think ?

Melissa Shaw
Creative Writing
October 8, 2008
For the One I Loved

There was something about her, something about the way she talked and the way her hair fell on her shoulders. I stood there mesmerized by her beauty. There was no way that I could approach her. My body trembled with the fear of rejection. I tried to stand as close to her as I could just to hear her soft spoken voice, but the noise that filled the room was unbearable.

There I stood next to the most beautiful sight I had ever seen, unable to speak a word, or to hear anything because of the utter chaos that was going on in the world around me. The room was dark and I could barely see the crimson drapes that hung on the window in front of me. I felt like a bee in a swarm of people. The more and more I paid attention to my surroundings the further I saw my beauty slip away.

One moment, she stood next to me, the next she was down the hall disappearing into the darkness. I felt so alone and helpless without having her near me. It was as if I were an infant and my mother left me on the front step of a church crying hysterically. I tried to push my way through the crowd of people, but the closer I got to her the more her presence faded.

Suddenly, my heart began racing. From one beat to the next I could feel my heart slowly sink to the pit of my stomach. The girl whom I was falling for had slipped from my hands, and my soul felt like a barren desert wasteland. I felt as if I was punched in the stomach in more ways than one, like a force was holding me back from her.

The more I tried to move down the never-ending hallway the harsher the pain had gotten. I thought to myself, "Is this girl worth all the pain I am enduring?" The pain got more intense, it felt as if some outside force had gone into my abdomen and twisted my intestines. I could feel myself being ripped apart from the inside out as I fell on to the floor. There was something…something terribly wrong.

I could feel someone or something slowly whisper in my ear that everything would be okay. I looked around me and there was no one. There was no longer anyone surrounding me…I was left alone. I could not take my hand from my stomach; the pain was so unbearable. I looked down because I felt dampness, as I lifted my hand it was saturated in blood. I could not stop myself from thinking "Oh my God! I'm dying…I'm going to die here alone."

The more I thought about the girl I had fallen in love with the more the blood came protruding out of my abdomen. I didn't know what to do. I slowly began to rise from the floor, trying to make my way down the hall and some force from behind me pushed me forward. It was like being hit by a sixteen wheeler. As I flew forward all I could see was darkness and images of my life floating past me. Images of the bitter emptiness I had felt for years. The pain I went through with my dead-beat drunken father beating me day in and day out. The prostitute of a mother I had that made my life a living hell. Then finally images of the girl I had laid eyes upon; the girl who would take away my worries and pain.

With these scattered images floating about and being shoved forward, I came to a halt, and what lay ahead of me was the most horrific thing I had ever seen in my life. My dream girl, the one with whom I had gazed upon a few moments before was being mauled before my eyes. She was cut with a sharp razor blade several times leaving the markings of a hex on her by this force unbeknownst to me. I looked around searching to fight off this person, only to see that no one was there. The more I looked at my "girl" the more gruesome it got. Her limbs were now removed and her body completely decapitated.

Suddenly her lifeless body lay before me, my hands covered in blood. What had happened? God, did I do something wrong? All of the sudden I felt my chest pull outward and I felt my soul float out of my body. I was a spirit floating above my body looking down. As I looked down toward my body I heard myself say "Dies Irae." I had no clue what this meant, but I could tell you it was Latin. I felt my soul soar as if it were trying to defeat the demon that had now possessed my body.

I saw my now possessed body move quickly down the darkened hallway. The only things to provide light to the hallway were the candelabra's. My eyes were glaring with rage as my body got closer and closer to the people who were initially surrounding me. My demon possessed body entered a room at the end of the hallway. The room painted in the palest of white and the wooden floor creaked as you walked across it. My body had made itself known. "My name is Lived" he said sternly. All the chatter that was going about in the room ceased.

People were now trembling at the sight of my demon possessed body. It was as if they knew something was going on. They knew that something terrible was going to come out of this. The porcelain white walls had suddenly become blood stained as blood came trickling out of each crack. "Lived" lifted his hands and pronounced "Dies Irae" again.

Each person in the room looked blankly at one another in shock they could not believe what was happening. Someone whispered…"Does anyone know what he is saying?" Slowly the whisper was passed around the room, and once the whisper came to one young man he said "He's saying The Day of Wrath. He's speaking Latin." The room hushed as "Lived" began speaking in tongues. His eyes drawn outward from his face as if they were to pierce every human soul in the room, the walls began to shake, and people began running down the lit hallway that ran off of the room.

"God, help us!" they all screamed as they were running away. You could hear the silent prayers of people as they began to flee the area of "Lived", but as soon as they began their prayers the voices were silenced. "Lived" had taken the power of verbal prayer away from them. The room was filled with the sound of stomping feet, like a heard of wild animals fleeing a predator. Then it came to a stop, all those who were running fell to the ground.

© October 2008

BLACKOUT!

Here's my attempt at black-out. Don't know how well it's working for me....but it seemed fun. Would've liked it more if I could find some cohesive way to make the words fit into one another, but I think if I really put my mind to it I could accomplish writing something great. On the other hand, I think this is a great way to start something new!

Prompt...Prompt...Prompt AWAY!!!

You'll see that I did the prompt using a picture. Very interesting! I couldn't believe that you could actually develope a piece out of something that was alot of fun! Kudos to that website...it's a complete God Send....especially when you're having writers block. Woo-Hoo! I'm going to try another prompt and see what happens

James Joyce

After doing a little bit of research on Joyce I discovered that not only did he have a desire to write, but he also at one point studied medicine. I found that Joyce's life is quiet interesting and in some ways you can see it portrayed in his writings.

In my own opinion, Joyce is not an author that I am drawn to and want to read all his writings. He is simply what I would consider a "classic" writer. He writes books that one might read just have said they read it. For example, Moby Dick, is a novel that many have read, but how often do you find yourself re-visiting the book for no reason at all.

Joyce is intriguing and has his own style of writing, which I think can inspire many. However, his writing is from his time and can be sometimes unclear due to the busy-ness surrounding the picture he's painting.

All in all, Joyce is an exquisite writer and deserves to be one of the most influential writers. He is very inspiring, especially if you want to observe a type of writing that might be outside of ones comfort zone.

Artistic Expression

Jules Bastien-Lepage

French Naturalist Artist who was born in 1848 and died in 1884. My most favorite painting of his is called "Joan of Arc." It is an artistic expression of an image with hidden images within it, look closely and you'll see a world of which Joan of Arc has come to life.

http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/sara/ho_89.21.1.htm

The Evolution of Dance

Although many may find this comical...dance is a true art form. From the beginning of dance to now we have flowed with the acceptable and introduced new movements that have broken barriers. So, please take a moment to watch Jud Laipply show us how dance has evolved through the years. This is a truly amazing art form!

http://www.theevolutionofdance.com/

Julian Beever

Who would have ever thought that putting chalk to pavent would create pictures that are truly mind boggling. Julian Beever is probably one of the most talented artistic beings that uses a sidewalk as their canvas. Take a glance at his artwork and you too will be astonished!

http://www.impactlab.com/2006/03/09/amazing-3d-sidewalk-art-photos/

Robert Munch

I'm sure we are all familiar with this author. You've probably read one of his stories in grade school or even found yourself reading one of his stories to your children. Robert Munch is a Canadian author who paints a picture that captivates the minds of his audience. I can remember a time when I was young thinking about what would happen if my mom stopped loving me and Robert Munch's story Love You Forever showed me that a mothers love is endless and ongoing.

http://www.robertmunsch.com/

Josh Groban

Josh Groban, is an incredible singer. He stands out with Andre Boceli and Luciano Pavoratti. With the sound he creates with his singing is simply beyond words. He is extremely captivating and can take you off to distant places; almost like living a dream. He has collaborated with many singers such as Angie Stone, Charlotte Church, and Celion Dion. I would highly recommend that everyone, regardless of your musical background, attend one of his concerts...they're just captivating!

http://www.joshgroban.com/

Control Can Leave You Blind-- Abstractions poem

Word Given: Control
God
Cross
Dying
Blood
Crying
Tears
Blue
Sea
Creature
Alien
Green
Lily Pad
Flower
Spring
Rain
Lightning
Scared
Darkness
Yellow Eyes
Ghosts
Haunting
Hinges
Doors
Creaking
Fright
Horror
Black
Blind

Poem:
Control Can Leave You Blind

Control, with whom does it lie?
God is the One with whom will decide

He laid down His life by dying on the cross
Leaving those in tears to answer to The Boss

The blue sea lies with creatures given from above
But the mysterious ones who are alien, are the ones who needs God's love

A green lily pad lays with a white flower upon it
A sign that Spring is coming and and the rain drops sit on it

Lightning storms the sky to remind us of this higher power
Leaving us scared of what is to come the next hour

Darkness shuts out all the light..and those who are left are confronted with yellow eyes
Ghosts will be haunting us for those who don't believe...leaving all those left behind with mouths that are dry

Hinges on the doors creaking ever so slowly
Leaving us with fright and horror saying "Holy Moly!"

And when it all ends and we're left sitting in the black
We're all blind because we simply turned our back.

By: Melissa Shaw

Abstractions

So...yesterday in class we did this exercise called "abstractions." Which is somewhat out of my comfort zone, but I tried it. Didn't really know what I was doing, but I think I got the gist of it. Anyway...below you'll see how CRaZy these abstractions can get.

Rage>> pit-bull >> teeth >> foam >> ocean >> blue >> sky >> cloud >> rainbow >> Kermit >> Muppets >> Scooter >> Babies >> Diaper >> Powder >> White >> Clean >> spring >> Flowers >> Water >> Crystal >> Jewels

Generosity >> Money >> Greed >> Dracula >> Halloween >> Darkness >> Hell >> Satan >> God >> Heaven >> Angel >> Gate >> Fence >> Block >> Red >> Blood >> Death >> Odor >> Skunk >> Garbage >> Porn >> Exotic >> Macaw >> Green >> Kermit >> Miss Piggy >> Pink

Control >> God >> Cross >> Dying >> Blood >> Crying >> Tears >> Blue >> Sea >> Creatures >> Alien >> Green >> Lily Pad >> Flower >> spring >> Rain >> Lightning >> Scared >> Darkness >> Yellow Eyes >> Ghosts >> Haunting >> Hinges >> Doors >> Creaking >> Fright >> Horror >> Black >> Blind

Charm >> Leprechaun >> Green >> Clover >> Plant >> Soil >> Worms >> Slime >> Goo >> Sticky >> Honey >> bear >> Growl >> teeth >> white >> Clouds >> Cumulus >> Nimbus >> Science >> Biology >>> Human >> Heart >> Blood >> Red >> Puddle >> Wet >> Floor

As you can see....it gets a little nuts...but I guess this something all potential poets can work with...the power of words and what they trigger in the human brain.

Favorite Writers

Nicholas Sparks:

With stories that are based out of North Carolina, Nicholas Sparks brings life into perspective. Teaching a lesson in each of his stories that has a resounding affect on his readers.

Link: http://www.nicholassparks.com/

Shel Silverstein:

With poetry that brings light to situation Shel Silverstein guides both adults and children to enjoy the fun and laughter of life. Although, some may see his poetry as poetry for children, he teaches us all a lesson for life to live, love, and most importantly have fun!

Link: http://www.shelsilverstein.com/indexSite.html

Maria Shriver:

Known to many as Arnold Schwarzenegger's wife, this women tackles situations that may seem too difficult to explain for many. From writing a book for children who are dealing with a grandparent who has alsheimers to facing autism she brings to life the hidden wonders of our world. This women is very insightful and I suggest reading her children's books no matter how young or old you are. She is truly an inspiration!

Link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maria_Shriver

Photobucket Album

My first blog.

This is my first time blogging and to be honest, I'm pretty excited about it! I guess, this is a good time to share some information about myself. Anyway, my name is Melissa Shaw, and I am currently in my sixth year of college at William Paterson University. I will be graduating after the completion of this semester (which in turn means I'll be a January '09 grad).

I began my college career in 2003 by attending the University of Nevada Las Vegas and in 2006 I transfered to William Paterson. I know, dumb move...huh? But if you lived in Las Vegas for 3 years like I did, you'd want to move too. I saw somethings that no one would ever want to see; the grim side of Las Vegas.

On the other hand, I am an English (writing) major and will be receiving certifications in elementary education as well as in special education. Upon graduation I will have completed 164 credits...kind of ridiculous, but hey...I'll have a B.A.!

As for my education certifications I've completed two practicums and student teaching, so right now I'm just taking two advanced writing night classes.

What else...I have a per-diem job (pretty much an "on call" job) at Saint Clare's Hospital working in the radiology department. I don't really intend to stay there too much longer, as I have been promised to cover a friends maternity leave from teaching.

Other than that, I like to read, but the sad thing is I read a lot of children's literature, because I have a four year old nephew who is with me every weekend (due to my brothers absence because he is in the Navy). But when I do find time, I read Nicholas Sparks and basically books about different disabilities people have. This past summer, I managed to get through the book Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes. I highly recommend it for anyone who is facing a struggle in their life...it is truly inspiring!

Well, I hope this semester brings fun and excitement, and I look foward to working with all of you! Thanks for taking the time to read this. Good luck and God Bless!