We have three days left at Ocean City Maryland. Little do we know, hurricane Irene is brewing in the sky. This was the last day my family and I were on this beach together, the next day the island was shut down due to the hurricane. This was the last time my family (23 of us) went to Ocean City Maryland for two weeks. I’m 10, jumping around the beach without a care in the world. The sky is dark, filled with gray clouds and cool air. The ocean is thundering today, singing dark songs. My family and I want to get every last drop of the sea before we go home in a few days. The warnings of the sky don't stop us.
My three teenage cousins and I decide to go for a swim. They’re much older than me, but I strive for them to see me as an equal. Melina, Leah, Kerry, and I rush into the ocean with no fears. We go as far as our bodies let us. The ocean pulling us deeper and deeper. Diving under waves, floating through a storm. We laugh, full of glee, the waters giving us a challenge. I feel a mixture of fear and excitement, I was never afraid of the ocean. The water is dark, and strong. We go deeper and deeper no longer in control. Wave after wave hits us, and our tiny group gets seperated. Melina and I are far out, and Kerry is a little closer. Melina pushes me towards Kerry to get me safely to shore. Kerry and I are now the only ones around. The waves keep crashing and crashing, pulling me in and out, with each shaky breath. The lifeguard blows her whistle and waves her arm lazily. Kerry screams for me to swim to her, but I’m not strong enough. She lets the current take her, and grabs me. The salt burns my eyes and throat, fear sinking into me. She swims farther and farther with me in her arms, pushing against the tide like a warrior. Up in the sky, dark brewing clouds stare at us. I look around restlessly for my other cousins, Leah and Melina, while Kerry drags me, waves crashing. I kick my feet in attempt to help fight the battle. I turn back and see Melina on top of a wave, clinging to a yellow boogie board. She disappears, the wave crashing over, I scream after her, but my voice is a void from the seas roar. The water fights us to go deeper as we strive to move forward. I look to the angry sky, thinking it’s the last time I’ll see it. Finally the lifeguard understands our struggle, and gets up from her throne. Kerry and I are almost to the shore, but Leah and Melina are no longer in sight. Finally, we ride a wave onto the shore. Coughing and weezing, we look around and find Leah and Melina. Leah got out first and watched us all struggle to get to shore. Melina swears she just met her guardian angel. She was farther than all of us. Melina said that a middle aged man came out of nowhere, gave her a yellow boogie board, and told her to ride a wave safely to shore. We looked and looked but there was no sign of the man, or the boogie board. We tell our family what happened, their all concerned for a minute, but than go back to their leisures. My cousins and I look at each other, and jump into the ocean again.
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In this story, we discover the helpful writing skills from three very different writers. Don Murray talks about how to properly teach writing in his article “Teaching Writing as a Process Not a Product” . Mary Karr discusses the beauty of revision in “Against Vanity; In praise of Revision” . Anne Lammot thinks other views on your work can help you grow as a writer in “Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life” .
Walking along the beach, watching the ocean waves crash to the shore, I step farther and father from my work. I’m a writer, today I had a genius idea to finish writing my book at the beach. The beach is the worst place for a procrastinator. All I want to do is lay back and float in the ocean. The waves of work swallow me up instead. I notice that there's only a few people on the beach, when the wind rips my writing out of my hand. I run and chase after my crummy work, and find it landed next to a very round man wearing a gold speedo. At the exact moment the paper landed next to him, he decided to flip over to get an even tan on his back as well, crushing the paper with the weight of his belly. ”Excuse me!” I say politely But the speedo man can’t hear me through his blaring headphone. I try screaming a little louder, all of a sudden a woman going for a run on the beach nocks into me. I fall face first on the sweaty mans back and am covered in all different types of oil and sweat. Another lady comes over and asks if were all alright, and tries to help us all up. When we all get ourselves in order, we exchange our greetings, and soon find out we are all on the beach for the same reason: Procrastinating writing. I ask the sweaty speedo man, whose name is Don, on how to properly understand the process of writing, he replies “ What is the process we should teach? It is the process of discovery through language.It is the process of exploration of what we should know and what we feel about what we know through language.It is the process of using language to learn about our world, to evaluate what we learn about our world, to communicate what we learn about our world” I take this in, and after a long awkward silence I finally say “Sometimes I don’t know what I feel until I use language” Anne Lammot responds saying “Because writing for some of us, the latch that keeps the door of the pen closed, the ravenous dogs contained.” Her wise words sink into my skin like the sea salt air. I ask them if my use of language even matters, if my effort is just a waste of space and time. “None of us can ever know the value of our lives, or how our separate and silent. scribbling may add to the amenity of the world, if only by how radically it changes us, one and by one.” says Mary. Don adds “ He uses language to reveal the truth to himself so that he can tell it to others” We all take this in to account, even though everyone Don is talking to is a “she” not a “he”. “Sometimes I’m self conscious about my writing. Most of the words I decide to put together are private. It feels good and strange to have someone else read my subconscious writing.” I say Mary Karr replies “the self consciousness that hits them weighs them down. It’s like trying to dance with armor strapped on, bulky and awkward.” “That's how I feel, bulky and awkward, like the Hulk in flip-flops.” I say Anne slaps me in the face with her words of wisdom and says “You don't have to see where you're going, you don't have to see your destination or everything you will pass along the way” I tell her she’s right. Instead of whining about my insecurities in front of three fantastic writers, I should ask more questions to help my work. I ask them the secret of writing “Revision is the secret to their troubles —and yours.” says Mary Karr, she goes on by saying “Remind yourself that revising proves your care for the reader and the nature of your ambition. The point is to have more curiosity about possible forms the work could take than sense of self protection for your ego.” I tell Mary I don’t have time to revise! That my book is due at 11:59 today and I have a half hour left! Don says “ Instead of teaching finished writing, we should teach unfinishedwriting, and glory in its unfinishedness.” Maybe Dons right, maybe someone can understand my unfinished piece in all of it’s unfinished glory. Anne Lammot screams “I don’t think you have the time to waste not writing because you are afraid you are not good enough at it!” At that I give them all sweaty hugs and run back to my book. The following piece of literature are my answers to The Proust Questionnaire. I hope you enjoy getting to know me from these questions. I talk about my favorite things, fears, and biggest regrets. I hope you enjoy!
My idea of perfect happiness is to feel fulfilled spiritually, physically, and emotionally. I’d like to feel I’m making an impact in the world in a positive way. My greatest fear is the dark, I’m okay with hiking in the woods at night, but dark rooms when I’m alone frighten me. The trait I deplore myself most is laziness, I wish I could have a better concept of time. The trait I most deplore in others is lack of empathy, if people understood one another and cared how others feel, many problems would be solved. Someone I most admire is my Mom, she’s very understanding and trustworthy. My mom treats everyone with respect, but will also punch someone if need be. My greatest extravagance is food, my wallet hates me for my appetite. My current state of mind is at peace, I feel humble and open to the world. I believe the most overrated virtue is beauty. So many people strive to reach their image of perfection, instead of focusing on who they truly are. I lie when I feel uncomfortable. One time I was talking to a friends Dad, he makes me super uncomfortable. He asked me what I’d like to be when I grow up, and I said a Chemist (I almost failed that class). I most dislike my forehead, its huge! I would get bangs, but bangs mean you have something to hide. I most despise any living person who abuses animals. The qualities I most like in a man are kindness and humor. The quality I most like in a woman is courage. I overuse the phrase “thank you”, someone at work had to tell me to stop. The greatest love of my life is coming soon. I was most happiest outside in the woods when it was first snowing that season, and floating in the ocean where my feet could no longer touch the ground. If I had a talent I’d like to be able to fly, so I could go anywhere my heart desires. If I could change one thing about myself, I would strengthen my memory, I forget a lot. I think my greatest achievement is one of the art pieces I did called “Perspective” it was in my high school art show. It’s a big drawing of a girl hugging a German Shepherd, they both have one blue and one brown eye. I called it “Perspective” because some people thought the girl was hugging the animal, others thought she was choking him. I would come back as a sea turtle, and float through life. I would most like to live in Fiji, It’s beautiful and the name has three dots. My most treasured possession is a picture of my cat Molly, she died when I was little, it’s the only picture we have. The lowest depth of misery is when someone gets joy in putting others down. My favorite occupation is the people who clean up the ducks from the oil spills on the Dawn commercials. Many people mark me as creative and unique. I most value kindness and optimism from my friends. My favorite writer is usually the author of whatever book I’m reading. If I had to choose just one, it would be C.S. Lewis (I’m also reading his book now). My hero of fiction is Finn from Adventure Time. My heroes in real life are the people I work with, the nurses always make my day. My favorite names are Violet and Sunny (from a book I read when I was young). I most dislike meat, I did a research project on meat and it changed my life, it’s very cruel. My greatest regret is not telling my neighbor that I’ve had a crush on him since the third grade. I would like to die floating in the ocean by the beach, surrounded by everyone I love, than lightning striking and killing me instantly. My motto is a quote by James Dean “Dream as if you’ll live forever, live as if you’ll die today” |
-Angelina-
I will use this blog as an outlet for my ideas and emotions. |