Part A
Honestly, l have never been very confidence in my writing because l have never felt like it was good enough. I have always like the idea of writing in my writing journal. At the beginning of the semester, l wanted to leave the class because l didn’t like the idea of sharing my work with other people.
This year was the first year l’ve started to share my writing pieces and honestly l had no regrets whatsoever. I started writing poems and stories in my journal when l was in grade four because l was going through a lot and saw writing as my escape from the pain l was feeling. I write because it is while I’m writing that I feel most connected to why we’re here. I write because silence is a heavy weight to carry. I write to remember. I write to heal. I write to let the air in. I write as a practice of listening. I write mostly poem because because it fills my world and stuff, stuff that originated from someone who inspired me. Poetry let you express your emotions in a way that other forms of writing would not let you. Poetry helps me express my feeling better because not everything always has to rythm.
My voice in writing is always in second person however sometimes l switch it to first person. I always write in that way because l like to relate what l am writing about with other people and then relate it how it relates to me. I find this style easier because it is a way to tell other people that they are not the only ones going through what they are going through.
As a mentor, l would give advice to the future creative writers that “creative writing is always about being creative, write from your heart not your mind, you are going to make mistakes and nothing is going to be perfect and almost as important: write what you love.
Being able to explore my writing skills this years, l have realized that l never want to stop writing and l will continue to publish my work even after creative writing is done because l have realized that being able to write is a talent and l never want to lose the talent. I have fallen in love with writing and l never want to stop.
Part B
Beginning of the year l hated the idea of blogs. I didn’t want anyone being able to see what l was writing about. After a while, l became to like the idea of blogs because other people we able to see my blog and give me feedback on what l did write or what l should work on in the future. Honestly, l would change some things on my blog because l don’t like any of my writing structure. After this course finishes l wish and hope to keep on writing and keep on blogging because l wish to tell my story and inspire other people who are going through what l am going through. I follow Carmen, Aaron and Katherine because their writing style is something l wish to accomplish in the future. Honestly, l haven’t explore any professional blogger however it is something l wish to do in the future.
Part C
I have definitely enjoyed Creative Writing. It was a course that inspires me to keep writing no matter what and it also made me feel confidence in myself and what l write about. I have certainly enjoyed the writing, elderly home, walks and feedback. Creative writing has made me read more book l have ever read in like 5 months. My currently next plan was to read Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini. The best book l’ve read this semester would be Night by Elie Wiesel. It is about his experience with his father in the Nazi German concentration camps at Auschwitz and Buchenwald in 1944–1945, at the height of the Holocaust toward the end of the Second World War.
Reading has improved my writing because it has given me inspiration on what to write about. I would definitely take Creative Writing again because it has made me love writing more and feel confidence in my writing. To improve my writing l have decided that l would keep on reading more books to fix my grammar and improve writing and to keep writing so that l can keep on getting feedback.
Part D
This year for my Writer Seminar my group and l decided to do Sir Arthur Conan Doyle because his writing style was different from what we were used to. Writing mystery has always been something l am interested in. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle is significant because the way he writes his books and illustrate it is somehow powerful in a way that it makes a reader hooked and wanting to read more book written by him. Him writing style has empowered me to write something has is mysterious. I wish to write something mystery in the future. Recently, l have been interested in writing something mystery however, Sir Doyle has inspired me to write something similar. I did a emulation to one of his work on my blog (https://nicolenki007.edublogs.org/writers-seminar/).
I have enjoyed Carmen(http://exulansis.edublogs.org/), Victoria (http://ephemerallove.edublogs.org/), Katherina(http://1awayfromthez0mb13s.edublogs.org/) and Aaron ( http://origamicranes.edublogs.org/) blogs. They are such wonderful writers. The way the explore their writing style is something l wish l could be in the future. They have such a way of telling a story in such a powerful way.
Part E
Stuck in between a mirror, l am stranded.
I have no choice but to play with the cards l have been handed.
On either side is reality and a sort of dream,
It might be reality but it’s not quite what it seems.
I watched myself stare into the ice cold glass.
My reflection staring back with no way to pass.
A battle of which only one is fighting,
one the myth, the other the sighting.
A bigfoot of it’s own time,
yet this bizarre tale is mine.
Untouchable by the hands of man,
l have forgotten who l am really am.
So my reflection waits to make its move.
Life is the only myth it seeks to prove,
a being with no heart is still a being
As dark as evil it goes without seeing
Bloody drops of desire fall from my eyes.
What fails to fall in truth is reflected in lies
My heart drops from the black gallows,
my mind drowns face down in the water shallows
A sequence of fiery betrayal.
My reflection dives into its own eyes so pale,
Disappearing beneath the white waters
Leaving a trail of cold logistical slaughters
Every breath burdened but existence at fault.
Every breath locked away in a vault.
With one eye open l watched my fate,
With broken legs l stand and wait,
Through my crumbling foundation,
Comes a sickening realization.
My heart’s deepest inflection,
Was behind my reflection.
The girl glaring back at me,
through the golden plaited mirror
looks somewhat different.
Somehow changed.
From the girl who looked before,
Scarcely a month ago or more
Confidence flows through the body,
It pulses through her vein,
Her face stands tall,
Her eyes recall.
A different girl from the one l saw
Sparkling and shining, l stare in awe.
What happened to that reluctance,
To that familiar rosy flush.
The girl who wore her innocence
In one accidental blush.
Those fragile insecurities unwritten from your face
Leave the old girl behind without a single trace.
She used to look away
Scared of her own reflection,
Ashamed by the way she looked.
Hoping for some correction
But now she’s not afraid,
Not ashamed of what is displayed.
But it isn’t glass l look through
To reveal the girl that’s glaring back.
I’m staring at a mirror.
It’s me that’s glaring back.
Different, but somehow comparable,
To the girl who was finally repairable.
Correction has come at last.
All my worries should finally disappear.
But the girl who looks directly at me
Reminds me of the one l used to fear.
The type who made me dwell on my imperfections
Is why i’m still scared of my own reflection.
This poem was mostly inspired by Carmen’s post. There are moments in life where we see our own reflection in the mirror and see someone we can’t recognize. We’ve all heard the sayings, “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” and “Beauty on the inside is what really counts.” They’re normally just something we nod our heads at and act like we agree with; and, generally, we do agree. But for some of us, it’s just not that easy. It is not always about beauty on the outside but the inside. You are beautiful, no matter what everyone say. I wrote this because they are moments l feel like l am not beautiful enough. I honestly did not have any challenges with this piece.
This is an emulation l did from the poem “To This Day” by Shane Koyczan. I wrote this poem because it connected to my friend who committed suicide because she was bullied. Sometimes people think that it is fine to bully other people, but it’s not alright. What is it going to take for others to stop bullying. Haven’t they done enough. Many people are committing suicide because bullies have done so much to lead to their death. I wrote this in class because l felt so connected to the poem in someway.
Remember me! The boy you bullied.
Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will kill a soul.
I know this won’t faze you though because your heart is black as coal.
Your hurtful words are like a painful blow to the heart,
reverberating everywhere until they go right back to the start.
When will you realize that l have done no wrong?
When l ended my life, did you see it all along?
Did it make you happy to see me suffering everyday?
Did it fill you with joy in all the wrong ways?
When you read this l hope you realized,
You were the reason for my demise.
It’s too late now to pretend.
Because my life has already reached its ends.
When l put the gun to my head.
My mother found me dead,
she cried everyday since then but l found peace
and l was grateful to be at ease.
Congratulations, bully.
I hope you read this and knew
you were the reason l was covered in blood from head to toe.
Right about now you are probably standing with your mouth agape.
And you may call this suicide, but l call it an escape.
l realized now that none of the thing you said were true.
Now l know that the real coward was you.
Although you never hit me, your words were rough.
- What is the TITLE and what is the significance of the TITLE? (embed a link to the work, on the title).
BEAUTIFULLY BROKEN (https://nicolenki007.edublogs.org/2017/10/22/self-condemnation/)
I named this blog “Beautifully Broken) because it was a story l was telling how all the past years l have been broken and feeling hurt because of my best friend’s death.
- In 17 words summarize what your piece is about in terms of theme and what happens.
Sometimes we are oftenly blaming ourselves because of an event but we are stronger because of it.
What was your purpose and audience for your piece?
Its purpose was to let other people know that feeling like it was your fault because of something that happens, there are so many other people who feel the same way.
What/who influenced the creation of your written product?
My best friend
Discuss the craft/ style decisions you made, provide examples.
My idea was to write to her and let her know how l felt and how l feel now. I also wanted to let myself know that her death was not my fault. It happened for a reason.