First Lines

So I just finished reading seventh period's short stories. Well, actually skimming. Remember, this first round of grading is for some basic skills. After skimming, I am already impressed, and I hope that some of you will choose your short stories for me to evaluate with greater scrutiny.

I wanted to share a sampling of some of the first lines to these stories:

1. A flash of light lit up the dark cave. A cylinder of light shone against the back wall of the cave. -- Christian from the story "Pentacle"

2. Another day at the hospital: a chemo session and a blood check. -- Moira

3. I woke to the sound of my older brother Joey, or as I call him, Joe-Joe. He and my dad were arguing: again. -- Kaitlyn

4. It was like going down a rollercoaster, the adrenaline rush you feel. -- Amanda from the story "The Day That Changed Everything"

5. All I hear is the yawning of birds outside my bedroom window. -- Sean from the story "Becoming the Wild"

6. I had that dream again. I was watching my home, Earth, being glassed by the alien alliance called The Hollows. -- Tyler from the story "Another Day, Another Nickel"

Which are your favorites? I think all of them have a sense of mystery about them. They are a little bit unclear and you have to read on to understand the meaning of the first line. Very soon we'll be talking about the value of a good grabber, so pay attention to what grabs your attention when you pick up something to read!

Art Museum Trip

Our art museum trip yielded some rich rewards; it was the "Ellis Island: Ghosts of Freedom" exhibit that captured the imagination of Caitlin, who wrote the poem below. The two images in this post offer just a sample of the brilliant photography of the abandoned hospital complex on Ellis Island. And this is just one of many remarkable poems produced by students on the trip:

The rust encrusts my heart,

Like it does the abandoned sink.

Patches of brown scatter across the wall,

Peeling, unwanted.

Beneath its cracked surface appears new color,

A new slate,

Like the rest of us wanted.

I want the wall to be my skin,

My soul.

Bring in the new, let out the old.

Each drip and drop is lost,

Like my common sense.

What is right and what is wrong?

Porcelain sinks rest against the crinkled walls.

My mind is like the dull green knobs,

Always turning, but only when needed.

Rust and dirt sprawl across their tops,

The white, fading gray sinks

Are devoured by age.

A hole is drilled in the wall,

1 2 3 4

How many more lives will be lost?

Be replaced?

Abothe the holes rests a mirror,

Reflecting the Statue of Liberty.

I can't bear to look,

For if I do, I'll see my disgraceful face,

And the ones of those

Who once lived here with me,

Gone.

Light shines through the mere window still.

A sign of hope, of happiness,

Just barely touching the wall,

A small fraction of light enlightens the walls.

Eager to get out, to be set free.

That light once was me.

Reader's Lunch Anyone?

So I'm enjoying the book Slob, by Ellen Potter, our first Reader's Lunch book of the year, and I decided to look her up on line. She's an author I've never read before, but I'm excited to learn that she has her own blog, which you can find at www.ellenpotter.com. Her writing on her website is just as witty and fresh as the writing in her book, and get this: if you look for the Contact Ellen tab on the left hand side of the screen and email her, she guarantees that she will get back to you (though it comes with the caveat that it may take a few days, depending on how busy she is with other writing). So I am definitely emailing her -- but should I do it after I finish the book or while I'm working on it? It seems to me like an author might find it interesting to hear from a reader in the middle of the novel rather than a gushing fan at the end (assuming I will be a gushing fan after finishing it). What do you guys think?

Also, it sounds like her Spilling Ink handbook for writers and it's accompanying website should be great to check out. Amazon here I come . . .

Tips for Storytelling

So how is your short story coming along? Are the characters believable and the dialogue brisk? Does the plot incorporate intriguing conflicts and move irrevocably towards the climax? Is the theme meaningful?

Try some of these creative writing excercises to push you in the right direction. They come from one of my favorite creative writing books entitled "Metro: Journeys in Writing Creatively" by Hans Ostrom, Wendy Bishop, and Katharine Haake. Pick and choose a few that work for you?

1. Try writing all or part of your story in the form of a letter from one character to another.
2. Give the main character in your story an unusual health problem or affliction, real or imaginary.
3. Use the weather in a scene to reflect a character's mood.
4. Give your main character an obsession or phobia.
5. Make your first line a little bit mysterious. Then make it a one sentence paragraph.
6. Build a famous poem or lyric into your story (just like S. E. Hinton did in The Outsiders).
7. Write a super long, rambly sentence with lots of conjunctions (i.e. and, but, or) and then follow it up with a two word sentence.
8. Include more food in your stories. Be specific.
9. Add a little side character we barely get to know: a homeless man on the street, a cashier, a bus driver.
10. Add a metaphor. Compare your character to something. (i.e. She was a snake in the grass.)

Imagery Poem

Well, I honestly can't remember whether this person wished to remain anonymous or not, but I do know that I have permission to publish, and the poem is impressive, so if she wishes to be identified, check back tomorrow for the poet's name. I love the metaphors in this poem -- see how many you can find!

Raw Riding

I sit aloft the saddle
The pound of her strong limbs below me
Beating the ground with powerful strides.
I'm the Lone Ranger,
One hand guiding her on the battered path,
Riding high on her neck,
Urging her forth,
The other dangling loosely at my side.
My feet in the stirrups
Tap her bulging barrel,
And she lunges ahead at a blinding pace.
My back's a board as I lean forward,
Her mane lashing my face.
Sheer speed blurs my vision,
My hair chasing behind me.
The only thing I can smell is the raw air,
The only thing I can see is the finish,
Beckoning me closer,
To win.

Welcome Back!

You know that it's been a busy start to the school year when Mr. V. is publishing his first post at the end of September. But there is good news! This year, Scribbles and Bits will be expanding!

Just like the past two years, this blog will continue to feature the writing work of students on Team 8-2. All readers will still be invited to comment on the work they read there, establishing an online writing community for our team.

This year, Mr. V. plans to post more often, incorporating links and inspirations for creative writing that go beyond assignments in the classroom.

Our community of writers begins in the classroom, but working online will broaden our audience and enhance our possibilities for writing. Since each person in our class is so unique, this will also allow Mr. V. to tailor activities, readings, etc. to fit your interests.

Check back soon for imagery poems . . .

It's going to be an amazing year!

Mr. V.

A Must-Read Memoir

So this humorous memoir was so embarrassing, the author asked to publish it anonymously. The names have been changed to protect the innocent (or guilty!)


The roar of a mother’s voice thrashed upon her child. It was the disciplining voice coming from my mom to my four year old brother. My brother had just done something that you don’t see very often.
“Jack Testerman! What were you thinking?” my mom whispered in an angry tone as she shook her head in disbelief.
My brother just stood there quivering in terror. He began to spit out the words, “I’m sorry mommy!” My mom just stood there looking at him with a disappointed face.
She began to get louder and then yelled, “How can you say you’re sorry? Jack you pooped in their backyard! We are never going to be able to come back, ever! What were you thinking? Why would you do that?” My brother just stood there crying as he tried to calm my mom down, since my mom is a sucker for tears.
My brother explained himself by replying, “Well the doggy did it! Why isn’t he getting in trouble for it?” He looked at her with a very confused look on his face, trying to see what her response would be.
“Jack, the dog is allowed to do that. There isn’t a special bathroom for dogs. You aren’t a dog, you’re a boy. Boys have special potties in the bathroom,” my mom tried to explain.
“Well that’s weird! If dogs can do it, I should be able to do it!” He started to change his confused facial expression to a very aggravated look on his face as he looked around for the dog who started all of this.
My mom didn’t know how else to explain it any better than how she already had. She thought about how she could handle the situation without yelling any more, since obviously that wasn’t working.
She finally found the words and said in a very stern voice, “Jack, that’s just the way it is. Dogs are house pets who don’t know any better. You know better. It might not seem fair, but that’s the way it is.”
My brother started to realize that he better shut up or else things could get really bad. He decided to say sorry one more time and then left to go play downstairs with the other kids.
Let’s go back to where this all started. It was our second year living in Pennsylvania. My mom had just gotten a promotion and met this new lady at work. The woman and my mom started to become friends at work, so the woman decided to invite us over for dinner. My mom was excited and thought that we might make a new family friend. She came home that night saying that she had good news. She told us about the dinner and said that they had a daughter my age. Of course that got me excited and I couldn’t wait to go. My dad thought it was a great idea and my brother, since he was only four, didn’t care. So my mom called the woman back and told her that we would be able to come over for dinner and that we would be there around seven like they planned. When the day finally came around, my mom came home and made sure everyone was dressed and ready to go.
We got in the car and then my mom turned towards the backseat and said, “I want both of you to be on your best behavior! I want you to make a great first impression because I don’t want them thinking that I have some family with very rude and obnoxious kids.” My dad reassured her that everything would be fine. I thought the same thing, and it was, for the first hour. When we got there, I said hi to everyone and then went downstairs to play with their daughter. She was really nice and we had a lot of fun. Our parents were enjoying themselves too and seemed to be getting along. We played house for a while and then went upstairs to watch a movie.
Then, right before dinner, we heard my mom yelling, “Jack!” That’s when it all happened. My brother had just pooped on these people’s backyard; so much for a good first impression. My mom was furious, and I knew that wasn’t a good thing because that meant she would be in a bad mood for the rest of the night and we would never, in a million years, stop hearing about it.
I thought and hoped that was the end of the embarrassment, but of course, I was wrong. We had dinner and things started to go smoothly again. Everyone except for my mom was over the whole Jack thing. After all, he was only four. My mom knew that too, but she was just really embarrassed, and that’s why she was so upset.
When their daughter and I went back to watching the movie, my mom called my name. It sounded important, so I ran downstairs to see what she wanted. I was focused on getting to her quickly, so I didn’t have to make her yell again. I saw that the door was opened, so I just went straight forward with a fast pace. As I approached the door I saw my mom sitting down talking with my dad to the woman and her husband. As I was about to ask what she needed, BAM! I felt something rugged push up against my face and then I fell. I had just walked right into their brand new screen door. It popped out of its place and then fell right on top of me. I was so embarrassed and I knew that my parents were too.
“Danielle Testerman! What were you thinking? First your brother, now you! There could have been aliens attacking us right now and it would still be going smoother then tonight has been going! I told you two to behave!” my mom yelled. She began to realize that she was making an even bigger scene, so she dragged me over to the car where nobody would be listening.
“Are you going to explain yourself?” We just stood there looking at each other, then before I could say anything, she spoke again.
“I wanted this to be a nice night so that we could find some new friends and so that I made a good impression on someone I work with. I had your brother poop in their backyard; you break their new screen door. We sure do know how to make a good first impression.”
“Mom, I’m so sorry! I didn’t see the door; I was focused on getting to you.”
“You need to be more careful!”
“I know, I’m sorry!”
“Go back and say you’re sorry right now, then say goodbye. I’m saving everybody from any more embarrassment by leaving early.”
“But why? We don’t have to leave, I’m sure they are willing to give us another chance.”
“Danielle, don’t get me started. I want to leave, and that is final.”
“Okay, sorry again mom.” She just looked at me and then told me to go do what she told.
I did as my mom told and felt horrible for what had just happened. We all said goodbye and apologized for how the night had ended. Then we got in the car and left early. We never spoke to them or heard from them again. It was the most embarrassing thing of not only my life, but my family’s life as well.
I wish I could tell you that I learned something important that day, but to be honest, I can’t, because I didn’t. All I got from that night was the most embarrassing thing of my life and a funny story to tell to those who want to hear it. As much as you say you understand how we felt, you can only truly know if you were us and if you were there.