Nothing
Have you ever been laying on your bed or something thinking about nothing and then your mom says, “Hey! What are you doing?” and you say, “Thinking” and she says, “About what?” and you say “Nothing” and she doesn’t believe you because there is no possible way that a person can think about nothing? Has that ever happened to you? Or when your English teacher wants you to write about something, and even though you really have nothing to write about they still want you to write something because you can’t just write about nothing? Well, yes, it is possible to think about nothing, and yes, it is possible to write about nothing.
Yesterday Mitchell told us that in high school nothing matters except your grades…bull crap.
Friday, March 18, 2011
Sunday, September 19, 2010
A Real Drag
A few years ago my family decided to take a camping trip to Yellowstone. One night I wanted to take my dog for a walk, so I grabbed his leash and away we went. On our way back to the camp sight my dog, Baxter, saw a squirrel and took off after it.Next thing I knew I was being dragged along the gravel road. When he finally stopped I looked at my knee. Blood was everywhere.
I picked myself up and made it back to the our trailers. My aunt Lucy came out of hers and said, "Oh my gosh! Marqui! Your guts are falling out your knees!" That made my cry harder than the big gash itself did.
She fixed me up just fine... but for the rest of the trip I couldn't do much exploring or swimming. What a drag.
I picked myself up and made it back to the our trailers. My aunt Lucy came out of hers and said, "Oh my gosh! Marqui! Your guts are falling out your knees!" That made my cry harder than the big gash itself did.
She fixed me up just fine... but for the rest of the trip I couldn't do much exploring or swimming. What a drag.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Me As a Writer II
Getting it Write
“Sandra’s seen a leprechaun,
Eddie touched a troll,
Laurie danced with witches once,
Charlie found some goblins’ gold.
Donald heard a mermaid sing,
Susy spied an elf,
But all the magic I have known
I’ve had to make myself.”
Shel Silverstein
When I was little, my mom would always read me stories. I loved all of them, but of course I had my favorites. I wanted to write like that. I wanted to write like the authors that could make any child happy by reading a funny or exciting story, one that you would always imagine yourself being in. I wanted to write a story like that. But before I could write like that, I had to learn to…well…write!
It started with my name, even though it took me a while to get over the fact that my mom spelled my name with a ‘qu’ instead of a simple ‘k’. Once I mastered that, my love for writing took off. I loved how I could put down on paper the words, thoughts, and even ideas that were in my mind. I discovered early on that I loved to write narratives; I loved to tell stories. In elementary when we were asked to “Write About A Time When…” I always got so excited. My little mind liked to come of with the funniest story it could think of, even if it meant changing it a little. I wanted to make someone-ANYONE- laugh.
Because of all the reading I did, I was good at spelling. I was always the best speller in my class. In fourth grade, I won our class Spelling Bee and made it to the Region Bee at the High School. I got out on the word romanticism, only because I forgot the ‘r’ at the beginning of the dumb word. Stupid, I know. In 5th grade I missed the class Bee because I faked sick so I could go home and finish reading Where the Red Fern Grows. In 6th grade I made it through six rounds at the Region Spelling Bee. I loved it!!!
Entering writing contests for me was no problem. No matter what the topic, I would sit down and my fingers would struggle to keep up with my brain as the words kept flowing. Every once in a while I would stop, read what I had written out loud, then change whatever I needed to make it sound exactly the way I wanted it. It had to be perfect.
Over the years, nothing has changed. It still has to be perfect, and I still get things done the same way. I have found, though, that I LOVE writing for an audience. I love it!!! Most people whine and complain about having to speak in church, I would do it every week if I could. I am completely in my element when I have people listening to me…I love being listened to.
I think that poor writers don’t know that writing can be fun. When YOU write, YOU control what happens in the story, like Shel Silverstein says in the poem at the beginning of my paper. YOU have complete and utter control of what your characters do, and YOU choose exactly how it ends. It’s fun…because it’s up to you.
“Sandra’s seen a leprechaun,
Eddie touched a troll,
Laurie danced with witches once,
Charlie found some goblins’ gold.
Donald heard a mermaid sing,
Susy spied an elf,
But all the magic I have known
I’ve had to make myself.”
Shel Silverstein
When I was little, my mom would always read me stories. I loved all of them, but of course I had my favorites. I wanted to write like that. I wanted to write like the authors that could make any child happy by reading a funny or exciting story, one that you would always imagine yourself being in. I wanted to write a story like that. But before I could write like that, I had to learn to…well…write!
It started with my name, even though it took me a while to get over the fact that my mom spelled my name with a ‘qu’ instead of a simple ‘k’. Once I mastered that, my love for writing took off. I loved how I could put down on paper the words, thoughts, and even ideas that were in my mind. I discovered early on that I loved to write narratives; I loved to tell stories. In elementary when we were asked to “Write About A Time When…” I always got so excited. My little mind liked to come of with the funniest story it could think of, even if it meant changing it a little. I wanted to make someone-ANYONE- laugh.
Because of all the reading I did, I was good at spelling. I was always the best speller in my class. In fourth grade, I won our class Spelling Bee and made it to the Region Bee at the High School. I got out on the word romanticism, only because I forgot the ‘r’ at the beginning of the dumb word. Stupid, I know. In 5th grade I missed the class Bee because I faked sick so I could go home and finish reading Where the Red Fern Grows. In 6th grade I made it through six rounds at the Region Spelling Bee. I loved it!!!
Entering writing contests for me was no problem. No matter what the topic, I would sit down and my fingers would struggle to keep up with my brain as the words kept flowing. Every once in a while I would stop, read what I had written out loud, then change whatever I needed to make it sound exactly the way I wanted it. It had to be perfect.
Over the years, nothing has changed. It still has to be perfect, and I still get things done the same way. I have found, though, that I LOVE writing for an audience. I love it!!! Most people whine and complain about having to speak in church, I would do it every week if I could. I am completely in my element when I have people listening to me…I love being listened to.
I think that poor writers don’t know that writing can be fun. When YOU write, YOU control what happens in the story, like Shel Silverstein says in the poem at the beginning of my paper. YOU have complete and utter control of what your characters do, and YOU choose exactly how it ends. It’s fun…because it’s up to you.
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