The Story I Enjoyed the Most or Disliked the Least

The story I enjoyed the most was “There Will Come Soft Rains” by Ray Bradbury.  It is about an automated house.  The house stays on a routine even though it is obvious that no one has been there for a while.  We later find out that there was a bombing and the family that lived in the house had died instantly.  The house later catches on fire and desperately try’s to save itself, although its efforts are for nothing.  It burns to the ground.  One thing that I think that the author does well is paint a picture for you in your mind.  The descriptive words and phrases really make the story interesting.  The story has lots of irony because the “futuristic” things in the story are real in this modern day!  The story is almost scary because it shows how fast humans have developed technology in the last 100 years.

The Good Stuff

I am very thankful for my family.  My sisters always know when to cheer me up and honestly its nice to have someone to argue with.  My parents always support me no matter what.  They encourage me to do the things that I want despite what other people say.  And my little brother Jack.   He is the cutest, sweetest, and most evil toddler you will ever meet.  If anything happened to him I don’t know what I would do.  He is truly the light in my world.  I can always count on him to make me laugh.  Another thing I am grateful for is the type of family I am growing up in.  In my family you don’t have to get straight A’s, you just need to do your best.  We always talk through problems and we go to therapy instead of having these problems throughout our lives.  If you come out as gay or something along that line in my family it wouldn’t be a problem.  They would love you and accept you the exact same way if you were straight.  I truly am lucky to be in this family and I am very grateful for it.

What’s This Got to Do With Me?

When I was little, life did not seem as complicated.  I would go to school, play outside for the rest of the day and then go to bed.  My life was easy.  However, now my life is so hectic and chaotic that I really don’t have many pure happiness moments as I did.  School is a HUGE stresser for me.  The social, mental and physical aspects of school are very time consuming and stressful.  School has forced me to grow up in ways that I was not ready to grow up.  I stopped playing outside, playing with barbies and other things like that because I didn’t have the time.  When I did have time I was to emotionally overloaded that the only thing that made me feel nothing was t.v.   As my body was changing to a teenagers natural sleep schedule (going to bed later and waking up later)  I was having a hard time waking up in the morning to go to school.  Even though I was consistently going to bed at around 10:00-10:30 I was still exhausted because my body needed more sleep.  Not having enough hours to sleep was affecting my physical and mental state.  I had a very hard time focusing in class and running in PE.  School was hard for me in other ways to.  During class I would have unforgiving teachers that would yell at you if you “back-talked”  when really you were only respectfully questioning something that they did.  With some teachers it seemed like they thrived on being able to have power over us.  They don’t see you as equals which is very damaging to a child’s education.  In PE I couldn’t show my shoulders or belly for fear that the boys would not be able to control themselves, thus sexualizing  women and making us into objects that should bend to the rules of a man.  Even having the fear of being dress coded in the halls or a class is a constant worry or stresser.  The unfairness of it all hits a peak when you see the boys don’t even have to wear shirts in PE and they can wear tank tops to school.  School may claim that they are trying to enforce “professional dress”  but then why are we allowed to wear jeans to school?  Jeans are not very “professional”.

Suspense and Word Choice in a Freewrite

A young women got into her car on a frigid and ragged winter night.  Driving along a quiet street she was surprised to find a large semi truck driving along behind her.  The truck was old.  To old to still be driving.  The rust on the lower sides of the truck looked as though it were dried blood.  At every single bump in the road the mirror would smack against the truck like unto a droopy shutter hitting a house as it tried to deny the persistence of the wind.  Every minute or so the truck would flash its dim yellow lights and sound its loud, guttural horn.  The young women became mildly frightened.  She sped up the small car in an attempt to confirm that the old semi truck was not following her.  However, the truck sped up as well.  Becoming very frightened she coaxed the car to go even faster.  The truck sped up with her as well.  She turned on sharp corners and wove through complicated streets in a futile attempt to lose the rusty semi. Throughout the speeding and turning the truck continued to sound its horn and flash its lights.  The young women pulled up at a small quaint house and sprang out of the door immediately with a small key-chain in hand.  Just as fast the truck pulled up behind her and the drive jumped out of his vehicle with a large double barrel shotgun in hand. The women could see him more clearly now in the moonlight.  He was dressed in an old flannel torn jeans and and old hat that hid his face sufficiently.  She fumbled with her keys at the door.  Finally she banged open the door, threw herself over the doorway and into the room, and slammed and locked the door.  She sprinted to the window to see where he was.  Surprised she saw him not on the path up to the door but instead wrenching her car door open and slamming something with the gun.  She saw him reach in and grab something.  He pulled out a man dressed completely in black holding a glittering knife.  The trucker slammed his body on the man and ripped the knife out of his hands.  The young women ran to her phone and called the police.  As it was later found after the whole ordeal that the trucker was a man in his 50 named Russel.  Russel told the young women that when he was driving behind her at some point he noticed a man in the back seat of her car sit up and raise his knife.  He flashed his lights and sounded his horn and the figure in the back would quickly duck down once again.  The man and the young women became as if father and daughter and both lived happy and full lives.

My Reading Journey

When I was in kindergarten I was introduced to reading and books.   Learning to read was not super duper hard for me.  My parents would always read to me and my sister before bed so I already knew what the words sounded like I just had to learn how to read them in books.  By first grade I was already starting to love reading.  I would read classic picture books like chika chika boom boom, runaway bunny, puff the magic dragon and others.  I absolutely loved picture books when the illustrations were large and colorful.  In second and third grade I would read Juni B Jones and boxcar children.  Fourth grade was when my love for reading truly began.  I became a super fast and high level reader.  In the middle of Fourth grade I read the Middle school level book, “The Schwa was here”.  My reading speed and level in 5 grade only got faster.  I was reading up to 2 pages of a book per minute. (not sure how many words that is).  Fifth grade and beyond I was so engrossed with reading that as a punishment for not doing my chores my parents would tell me I couldn’t read until I got them finished.  In Eighth grade I got super into classic books like little women and anne of green gables.

Who am I as a Writer

I first started to learn how to write in kindergarten.  I remember having  to write a couple of simple sentences and thinking how my teacher was giving us so much work!  Then about halfway through the year my kindergarten teacher realized that nobody in the class actually knew that you had to put spaces in between your words when you wrote.  I remember that it took me forever to actually remember to space my words.  In second and third grade I really did not like writing.  Both my teachers those years would have us edit and write our paragraphs for class in a really dumb and time consuming way.  It made writing seem like a burden and not something that can be fun.  In fifth and sixth grade I started to enjoy writing a lot more.  I loved writing informational paragraphs but the rest of the different types of paragraphs were still hard for me to write.  My sixth grade teacher always required us to use transition words in our paragraphs which got to be annoying because a paragraph doesn’t always need a transition word.  Seventh and eighth grade helped me get better at writing and really improved my understanding of how to write.  

There Will Come Soft Rains

In the first 6 lines of the poem, There Will Come Soft Rains by, Sara Teasdale, it talks about aspects of nature in metaphoric and descriptive form.  The last 4 lines say, “Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree, If mankind perished utterly;
And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn, Would scarcely know that we were gone.   To me this means that even if humans destroy themselves completely by war or just downright oblivion the whole world would not even bat an eye.  The poem tells us to focus on the better thing in life and to do things that actually matter.  War only gives out negative repercussions and people want to forget it but by doing something that is good and kind in our life it will live on far longer than the memory of war because people actually want to remember that good thing.  Even just doing something like giving someone a sincere compliment, or telling someone that you love them it can make an even bigger difference then going to war and having family members, neighbors, and loved ones die for almost nothing.  I think that mankind is finally realizing this and trying to reverse and better their past, present and future actions.

2095: What Will the Future Be Like?

I think the future will be chaotic and crazy.  I think that eventually humans will destroy themselves not by war but by polluting and over populating the earth.  In 76 years if we did not do anything to fix pollution and and global warming then the air could be so toxic that we cannot grow anything outside in dirt.  We will have to use greenhouses and artificial sun, water etc.  The earth could over populate and get over its carrying capacity.  I think that cults and extreme religions would start popping up all over the place due to it basically being the end of the world.  Humans also might start resorting to crazy things like…. population laws restricting the amount of children a family can have, women’s rights will be restricted by not having access to to birth control, abortion, or reliable information about their bodies, food could be rationed and not very yummy, o Donald Trump might live another 150 years. I mean hey, anything is possible. 

I Can Use Figurative Language!

I rushed into the house and locked the old door with a loud thunk.  Outside the wind screamed as if it were in pain. I heard a small crunch outside.  It was coming.  I rushed upstairs to the bathroom, slammed and locked the door.  Everything was silent.  I heard the wind whistling through the trees outside and ticking of the grand old clock in the living room.  Everything was silent as a grave.  All of a sudden the sound loud footsteps rang through the house.  They were getting closer.  With every step they became louder and louder until it seemed that they were at the top of the stairs.   I was doomed.  Suddenly though the things footsteps became quieter as it lumbered into a bedroom, unaware of where I was.  I heard the thing rooting in the bedroom closet seemingly on a mission to find something.  I heard a clink of metal against metal and then all was silent.  I wondered if it had left or if this silence was somehow apart of its crooked plan.  Outside even the raindrops seemed to dance in anticipation and fear of what was to come.  I heard the doorknob rattle slightly.  Terrified I scooted as far back from the door as possible.  All of a sudden a crack of thunder echoed through the house and the bathroom door burst open.  I screamed as it stood over me triumphant.  “I found you Mandy!”  my little brother yelled.  “Are you kidding me!  I thought I could finally out smart you in hide and seek!”

Image result for old house

The First Story I Read

I got to read the short story “All Summer in a Day” by, Ray Bradbury.  The main character is a small and pale girl named Margot.  The story is set on Venus most likely in the future.  The beginning starts off with a cluster of schoolchildren crowded around a a window watching it rain.  The children keep talking about how the scientists know something.  They all seem very excited.  It then reveals that the planet Venus has been raining for 7 years and that the rain will stop and the sun will come out for only 2 hours on that day and then it will keep raining for 7 more years.  The little girl Margot who had moved from earth to Venus only 5 years ago and she thinks out loud about the sun which angers the other children because they know that she can remember the sun and they know that she once has endless sun and so that makes them jealous.  They lock her in a closet and then go out to play in the warm sun without her…