Yes, this is correct - I wrote a poem about Doctor Who. To exacerbate the geekiness, I'm only posting it in my ENGL 403 blog so I have a link to it for a message board discussion.
"What I Learned from the Doctor"
There’s an odd sort of man with no country or clan
Who has a ravenous need to roam –
Chasing the stars, he’s traveled so far,
Such a long way and time from home.
There’s so much to see, so much one can be
With a probing mind and some curiosity.
And he hungers for new worlds to explore;
The moment he lands, he flings open the door.
But the years grow unkind to one who can’t find
A friend who might share his sky.
Your adventure begins with his mischievous grin
As he asks you, “Stay or fly?”
He holds out his hand, which offers new lands
And a promise your feet will tread on new sands.
And it’s time you withdrew the limits you once knew –
There’s a wild old universe waiting for you.
And once you’ve been ‘round, you’ll see that you’ve found
A few words of wisdom to give:
If you have the chance, take time to dance
On the days when everyone lives.
Finish your task, leave no unknown masked,
Find the answers to questions that nobody asked,
Don’t be waylaid by mistakes you’ve made,
And know that you can be brave even when you’re afraid.
When the path is dark, and you can’t see your mark,
You may need to draw your map.
And don’t be distressed – you always possess
The means to escape any trap.
For the battle’s not won with size or with guns,
But instead by being the cleverer ones –
With spirit and might and a lust for the right
And just enough of a plan to keep you in flight.
That is all.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Monday, September 27, 2010
Video Literacy Narrative
Here's my video literacy narrative. Technical ineptness aside, I didn't like making this as while as I liked writing the print narrative. I find that, for some reason, my fingers are a lot more eloquent than my tongue. When I write, I can take all the time I need to craft my sentences just the way I want them. I can (hopefully) come across sounding smart and well-spoken.
When I speak unscripted, even when I take time beforehand to think about what I want to say and how I might want to say it, it comes out wrong. My tongue trips me up, I lose my train of thought, and not all of my dots end up getting connected. I don't really like that.
One advantage of the video format is that it allows me to incorporate visual aids, which I did in this narrative. I explained the collection of commonplace notebooks that I use for writing down quotes from books/poems/movies/songs/plays/TV episodes that I like, and I was able to show some of them to the camera, pointing out specific quotes from different books.
Anyway, here's my narrative:
And here's my post-narrative reflection:
Youtube links for now - I couldn't get the videos uploaded directly. If I can figure it out later, I'll change that.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Random Threads on Print Literacy
When is the first time you can remember writing something or reading something, anything? What do you remember about this experience, and why do you think that this experience has stuck with you?
My earliest memories of books and reading begin when I was quite young, and my mother read to me. We began with picture books, as parents and children often do - I was especially fond of The Bernstein Bears. As I learned to read, I started finding picture books for myself. I would ransack the church library every Sunday, and whenever we drove into town and went to the public library, I would check out as many books as I could carry. Sometimes, I'd bring plastic bags with me so I could take home even more books. My mother continued reading to my brothers and me throughout our childhoods, moving on to longer and more complicated books such as The Chronicles of Narnia and the works of Madeleine L'Engle. Eventually, she and I started reading books together, taking turns reading the chapters aloud. I particularly remember reading Edward Bloor's Tangerine and Ruth White's Belle Prater's Boy this way.
What did you read and write when you weren't in school? Why? When? Where?
Oh, I read. I read and read and read. In elementary school, I remember reading plenty of novels (one called Daphne's Book stands out in my memory), but I was mad about a number of different series. In elementary school, I tore through the Sweet Valley Kids books, graduating to Sweet Valley Twins when I got a bit older. Around 4th grade, I discovered Animorphs, and I eagerly waited for each new installment - I usually bought them through the book order forms we received at school. For as long as I can remember, I've enjoyed lists and order, and I very much enjoyed tracking down every part of a particular series.
I would read pretty much any time and anywhere. I had spare books in my backpack everyday that I could produce before class, whenever I was finished with my work, whenever bad weather necessitated indoor recess, and on the very long bus rides home (my family barely lived within the school district, and I would sit on the bus for close to an hour every day). At home, I would read in my bedroom, on the floor of my parents' room (beside the heating vent), and any number of places outside. I would bring books with me any time we had a remotely long car trip.
My reading habits grew less voracious in junior high and high school. I still enjoyed reading a great deal, but I was reading longer books which took more time to get through, and I had more schoolwork do demand my time, as well as band, choir, drama, and speech). Not as many particular books stand out in my memory during this period. I remember reading Little Women after falling in love with the film, and I very much enjoyed Gregory Maguire's books. While I grew up playing Lord of the Rings with my brothers, I didn't read the books for myself until high school - as my older brother had read the entire series when he was nine and we were constantly borrowing the old cartoon films from the library, I was well-versed on the story before I began. I also came to the Lemony Snicket books rather late in the game, but I took to them wholeheartedly raced through the series to date as quickly as I could get my hands on them.
Think about memorable experiences with reading. What made these so memorable?
Certain books and authors in my life have grabbed me quite intensely. I remember the first time I read Gregory Maguire's Wicked. It was shortly after the musical first came out, and I'd obtained the book through inter-library loan. I utterly lost myself in Maguire's version of Oz. I remember that I began reading when I got home from school on a Friday, read solidly until dinner, and then read further until my mother told me I had to go out and socialize with my little brother and his friends, who were playing broom ball that night. As I have less than zero interest in sports in the best of times and I was up to my elbows in wicked witches at this point, I begged for a reprieve, but I was made to join in for an hour-and-a-half of broom ball followed by a movie at someone's house (it was the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie). It was after one when we finally got home, and I read for another hour before my eyes were too bleary to make out the words. The next day, the only times my family saw me were at meals, and by the time the sun went down, I was finished.
Like I mentioned earlier, I had a similar experience with Lemony Snicket's books. The first book in A Series of Unfortunate Events isn't terribly long, and I read it in a little over an hour, in one sitting. This became my template for the series - a Lemony Snicket book should be enjoyed in its entirety, uninterrupted. However, each book in the series gets progressively longer, and by the time I reached the 11th book in the series, I was very annoyed to discover that I was expected to put my book down and come to supper.
I also especially remember reading the last book in the series. It was the first time I'd started reading a series while it was in progress and carried it through to the end (I lost interest in Sweet Valley Twins and Animorphs, and both Tolkien and Lewis were dead by the time I read their books). I remember how excited I was to read it - I was in college at the time, and I drove to Barnes & Noble before class so I could buy it. I read it in my usual Lemony Snicket style, all at once. I remember how much I appreciated the ending, but also how forlorn I felt when it was over. No more! Nothing left! I didn't know what to do with myself.
The books that get me hooked on a particular writer always stand out in my mind. I can't make a good attempt to pin down my favorite Jane Austen book, but Northanger Abbey will always have a sentimental place in my heart, because it was the one I read first. I was in college, working in a tutoring center, and I remember reaching for the book whenever I had a free moment. I remember the way I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing and disturbing the other tutors.
With Tom Stoppard, I didn't get fully reeled in with the first place I read (Rosencrantz & Guildenstern are Dead), though I do love it. It led me to seek out his Coast of Utopia trilogy, and when my mother found Arcadia sitting in a closet, I took it, curious to read more by this interesting playwright. Arcadia is the one that got me excited. I wouldn't necessarily say I like it better than the previous works I'd read, but for whatever reason, something clicked with me, and I realized I needed to read anything I could find by this man.
In all these cases, it's the excitement that I remember, the insatiable need to keep reading. It's a wonderfully spectacular feeling. While it can be quite problematic when the pesky business of living gets in the way, I love getting swept up in a book and letting my self be carried away by a desperate hunger for the words. So satisfying.
My earliest memories of books and reading begin when I was quite young, and my mother read to me. We began with picture books, as parents and children often do - I was especially fond of The Bernstein Bears. As I learned to read, I started finding picture books for myself. I would ransack the church library every Sunday, and whenever we drove into town and went to the public library, I would check out as many books as I could carry. Sometimes, I'd bring plastic bags with me so I could take home even more books. My mother continued reading to my brothers and me throughout our childhoods, moving on to longer and more complicated books such as The Chronicles of Narnia and the works of Madeleine L'Engle. Eventually, she and I started reading books together, taking turns reading the chapters aloud. I particularly remember reading Edward Bloor's Tangerine and Ruth White's Belle Prater's Boy this way.
What did you read and write when you weren't in school? Why? When? Where?
Oh, I read. I read and read and read. In elementary school, I remember reading plenty of novels (one called Daphne's Book stands out in my memory), but I was mad about a number of different series. In elementary school, I tore through the Sweet Valley Kids books, graduating to Sweet Valley Twins when I got a bit older. Around 4th grade, I discovered Animorphs, and I eagerly waited for each new installment - I usually bought them through the book order forms we received at school. For as long as I can remember, I've enjoyed lists and order, and I very much enjoyed tracking down every part of a particular series.
I would read pretty much any time and anywhere. I had spare books in my backpack everyday that I could produce before class, whenever I was finished with my work, whenever bad weather necessitated indoor recess, and on the very long bus rides home (my family barely lived within the school district, and I would sit on the bus for close to an hour every day). At home, I would read in my bedroom, on the floor of my parents' room (beside the heating vent), and any number of places outside. I would bring books with me any time we had a remotely long car trip.
My reading habits grew less voracious in junior high and high school. I still enjoyed reading a great deal, but I was reading longer books which took more time to get through, and I had more schoolwork do demand my time, as well as band, choir, drama, and speech). Not as many particular books stand out in my memory during this period. I remember reading Little Women after falling in love with the film, and I very much enjoyed Gregory Maguire's books. While I grew up playing Lord of the Rings with my brothers, I didn't read the books for myself until high school - as my older brother had read the entire series when he was nine and we were constantly borrowing the old cartoon films from the library, I was well-versed on the story before I began. I also came to the Lemony Snicket books rather late in the game, but I took to them wholeheartedly raced through the series to date as quickly as I could get my hands on them.
Think about memorable experiences with reading. What made these so memorable?
Certain books and authors in my life have grabbed me quite intensely. I remember the first time I read Gregory Maguire's Wicked. It was shortly after the musical first came out, and I'd obtained the book through inter-library loan. I utterly lost myself in Maguire's version of Oz. I remember that I began reading when I got home from school on a Friday, read solidly until dinner, and then read further until my mother told me I had to go out and socialize with my little brother and his friends, who were playing broom ball that night. As I have less than zero interest in sports in the best of times and I was up to my elbows in wicked witches at this point, I begged for a reprieve, but I was made to join in for an hour-and-a-half of broom ball followed by a movie at someone's house (it was the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie). It was after one when we finally got home, and I read for another hour before my eyes were too bleary to make out the words. The next day, the only times my family saw me were at meals, and by the time the sun went down, I was finished.
Like I mentioned earlier, I had a similar experience with Lemony Snicket's books. The first book in A Series of Unfortunate Events isn't terribly long, and I read it in a little over an hour, in one sitting. This became my template for the series - a Lemony Snicket book should be enjoyed in its entirety, uninterrupted. However, each book in the series gets progressively longer, and by the time I reached the 11th book in the series, I was very annoyed to discover that I was expected to put my book down and come to supper.
I also especially remember reading the last book in the series. It was the first time I'd started reading a series while it was in progress and carried it through to the end (I lost interest in Sweet Valley Twins and Animorphs, and both Tolkien and Lewis were dead by the time I read their books). I remember how excited I was to read it - I was in college at the time, and I drove to Barnes & Noble before class so I could buy it. I read it in my usual Lemony Snicket style, all at once. I remember how much I appreciated the ending, but also how forlorn I felt when it was over. No more! Nothing left! I didn't know what to do with myself.
The books that get me hooked on a particular writer always stand out in my mind. I can't make a good attempt to pin down my favorite Jane Austen book, but Northanger Abbey will always have a sentimental place in my heart, because it was the one I read first. I was in college, working in a tutoring center, and I remember reaching for the book whenever I had a free moment. I remember the way I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing and disturbing the other tutors.
With Tom Stoppard, I didn't get fully reeled in with the first place I read (Rosencrantz & Guildenstern are Dead), though I do love it. It led me to seek out his Coast of Utopia trilogy, and when my mother found Arcadia sitting in a closet, I took it, curious to read more by this interesting playwright. Arcadia is the one that got me excited. I wouldn't necessarily say I like it better than the previous works I'd read, but for whatever reason, something clicked with me, and I realized I needed to read anything I could find by this man.
In all these cases, it's the excitement that I remember, the insatiable need to keep reading. It's a wonderfully spectacular feeling. While it can be quite problematic when the pesky business of living gets in the way, I love getting swept up in a book and letting my self be carried away by a desperate hunger for the words. So satisfying.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Ruminations on Writing Spaces
When I was young, I remember writing my first stories in colored folders filled with loose leaf paper (better than notebooks, since I could add or removes pages as I needed). I wrote in my bedroom, at the kitchen table, on the couch, on the stairs, in the corn crib of our family farm, and occasionally in the grove behind our house. My grandfather, who had a wood shop, made me a portable "lap desk" that could be used both to write on and to store works-in-progress in an inside compartment. It even had a handle on the side so I could carry it anywhere.
Nowadays, I have a writing folder on my laptop, and that brings with it all the legibility and no-hassles editing that computer technology can provide. I have subfolders to divide my work by long or short story, poetry, drama, or screen work, and my computer makes it much easier for me to dabble with different media. When I wanted to make a screenplay out of a novella I'd written, it was incredibly handy to copy and paste sections into a new document and adapt it for my new purpose, rather than copying laboriously by hand.
Despite these advantages, I still hand write a great deal. First of all, a binder filled with paper, pockets, and pencils is easy to bring wherever I choose, and I don't need to worry about how long my battery will last. It's also convenient to pick up and put down on short notice - my job includes a certain amount of downtime, and I like to write when I'm free, but I have to be able to spring into action at the drop of a hat. Springing is ill-advised if there's an expensive computer in my lap.
More than that, however, initial writing seems to come more easily for me when I do it by hand. For some reason, my mind feels freer to explore. That seems odd, since a Word document allows infinite opportunity to do and redo to one's satisfaction. Yet, it feels natural for me to sit down to a fresh sheet of paper and simply begin writing. I hardly ever maintain a steady flow when I use my computer - unless I have a rough draft sitting beside my laptop, ready to be typed.
I think part of my issue is that, especially in early stages of writing, I often like to pull myself in different directions, and I like to be able to keep my varying ideas on hand, in case I want to incorporate a previously discarded idea later. I like scribbling notes in the margins and musing about what order in which I want to arrange my assortment of stanzas. While I suppose I could open multiple documents for one work or be less generous with the "delete" button, I have a hard time operating that way on a computer. My laptop tends to be the place where I type my rough drafts, where I work in the notes I've added and maybe take a short detour in a new direction. As I edit, I might remove, replace, or add sections, but only after I've already written my initial words and copied them into the computer - after my eyes have passed over them often enough to see that they're ineffective or incomplete. Between this important condition and the pluses I mentioned in the previous paragraph, I can't imagine myself going wholly computerized anytime soon.
(On a side note, I wrote this posting entirely on my laptop in one sitting, with no college-ruled assistance. School work, it seems, plays by different rules.)
Nowadays, I have a writing folder on my laptop, and that brings with it all the legibility and no-hassles editing that computer technology can provide. I have subfolders to divide my work by long or short story, poetry, drama, or screen work, and my computer makes it much easier for me to dabble with different media. When I wanted to make a screenplay out of a novella I'd written, it was incredibly handy to copy and paste sections into a new document and adapt it for my new purpose, rather than copying laboriously by hand.
Despite these advantages, I still hand write a great deal. First of all, a binder filled with paper, pockets, and pencils is easy to bring wherever I choose, and I don't need to worry about how long my battery will last. It's also convenient to pick up and put down on short notice - my job includes a certain amount of downtime, and I like to write when I'm free, but I have to be able to spring into action at the drop of a hat. Springing is ill-advised if there's an expensive computer in my lap.
More than that, however, initial writing seems to come more easily for me when I do it by hand. For some reason, my mind feels freer to explore. That seems odd, since a Word document allows infinite opportunity to do and redo to one's satisfaction. Yet, it feels natural for me to sit down to a fresh sheet of paper and simply begin writing. I hardly ever maintain a steady flow when I use my computer - unless I have a rough draft sitting beside my laptop, ready to be typed.
I think part of my issue is that, especially in early stages of writing, I often like to pull myself in different directions, and I like to be able to keep my varying ideas on hand, in case I want to incorporate a previously discarded idea later. I like scribbling notes in the margins and musing about what order in which I want to arrange my assortment of stanzas. While I suppose I could open multiple documents for one work or be less generous with the "delete" button, I have a hard time operating that way on a computer. My laptop tends to be the place where I type my rough drafts, where I work in the notes I've added and maybe take a short detour in a new direction. As I edit, I might remove, replace, or add sections, but only after I've already written my initial words and copied them into the computer - after my eyes have passed over them often enough to see that they're ineffective or incomplete. Between this important condition and the pluses I mentioned in the previous paragraph, I can't imagine myself going wholly computerized anytime soon.
(On a side note, I wrote this posting entirely on my laptop in one sitting, with no college-ruled assistance. School work, it seems, plays by different rules.)
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