A11 – The Book of Carrots and Bilingual Mastery

This is so us. Read it if you haven’t already:

Creandomology

Last assignment for Summer Creative Writing 2015!

Aaron – you’re welcome.

Sabweena – I apologize in advance.

The Book of Carrots and Bilingual Mastery

The Book of Carrots and Bilingual Mastery

     Ms. Gaines closed the final draft of the Book of Carrots and Bilingual Mastery. She only had to read one more entry, and then she’d be forced to make a decision as to whether her company could publish the randomness she held in her hands. She sighed. To be totally honest, she didn’t think so.

The publisher turned over the almost completed manuscript, and glanced once more at the cover.

Summer Creative Writing class of 2015 presents

The Book of Carrots and Bilingual Mastery

Melody, Lindsey, Daniel, Emma, Trina, Rebekah, Jonathon, Isaac, Michael, Sarah, Katie, Aaron, and Jason sat crammed into the front rows of the small church. On stage, Benedict the camera bug, and Snedward the book worm stood next to each other.

“I…

View original post 919 more words

Advertisements

A11: Me?


This poem relates the struggles of a self-hating Christian. The first stanza sets the premise for the rest of the poem, showing the person’s shame, and it also goes into the characters view of humanity in general.

The next stanza relates his growth from a child to a teenager and parallels the child and the teenager, calling the child “life-filled” and the teenager “death-filled”.

The third stanza begins by showing what other teenagers think of the character, using words such as “introvert” and “bookworm”, but then morphs into how the teenager sees himself. Again, a contrast is made in the middle of the stanza between other teens thinking of the character as “easily satisfied” and the character himself feeling “easily dissatisfied.”

The fourth stanza goes further into what the character thinks and feels about himself and God. It ends with the question, “What does He [God] see?”

Finally, in the last stanza the teen’s question is answered and God speaks, telling the character that He loves him.

I use similes (“as green as greed”), repetition of the word “Afraid” in stanza three, and rhyme throughout, as well as other literary devices. The poem is free verse and does not have a consistent rhyme scheme.


16212329146_5a8bc91f27_kLooking Up” by Ricardo Williams. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0


My deep, dark self
Hiding, ever hiding
Never opening up
Always in the dark.
I am dead.
I am a fiend, a ghost.
I will only hurt you,
If I let my true self show.
Unless I hide, I will be repulsed by my own being.
Myself is not something worth seeing.
I am damp, dark, and foul.
I am as red as blood,
As green as greed,
As blue as bruises and scars.
I am despicable.
Look away!
You don’t want to know me.
Trust what I say.
Leave, or you’ll regret it.
If you see me, you won’t forget it.
But you are ugly too.
You are gross.
You are lost.
We all are.
We all hide.
We all deceive.
No one. . .
No one wants to see.
Slam the door!

~Child~

Loud.
Boisterous.
Noisy.
Uproarious.
Funny.
Annoying.
Awkward.
Silly.
Crazy.
Life-filled.
Death-filled.
Hiding.
Distraught.
Masking self.
Trying to impress.
Trying everything.
Wanting to be heard.
Wanting to be left alone.
Quiet.

~Teen~

They call me,
“Kind.”
“Mature.”
“Introvert.”
“Shy.”
“Short.”
“Unimpressive.”
“Ordinary.”
“Friendly.”
“Uncultured.”
“Bookworm.”
“Easily pleased.”
But I know I’m
Easily dissatisfied.
Escaping earth.
Sheltered since birth.
Out to get, not out to give.
Out to lust, not to love and live.
Out for friends, not out to be one.
Out to be seen, not to see them.
Afraid.
Afraid.
Afraid.

Do they see
~Me?~

Myself
I
Who?
How?
Why?
I don’t know
Who I am.
They don’t know
How I am.
No one knows
Why I am.
Who am I?
Who’s I am?
Who has He made me?
Who have I made Him
In my head?
He feels dead.
I don’t know
Who He is.
They don’t know
How He is.
No one understands.
Who?
How?
Why?
Why does He want me?
What does He see?

You are beautiful
My son, My friend
Because I made you, you are whole.
You don’t really know yourself.
Right now, you see the dark.
You see the damp.
You see the sin.
You see evil in everything.
If it could be,
You’d see it
Even in Me.
But you don’t know Me.
You don’t know yourself.
You see one truth.
I see another.
You are your hater.
I am your lover.
And though you feel lost and perverted,
And though you are underserving,
I love you.
Though you are a whore,
I want you.
Though you look for more,
You have Me
You don’t understand,
But I do.
And you don’t have to.
I died.
You lived.
That is all.

A10: Escape from the Institution


An old man living in a futuristic society hears an announcement one morning stating that all the elderly and any other people seen as liabilities will be immediately terminated. He teleports to his adopted son, hoping for help, but who should be waiting for him there other than a member of the Institution, the very dictatorship that announced the killing of all elderly? The man and his son must escape this Institution worker, but how? It seems like the Institution is in control of everything. Is there some way to flee such a dominant world power?


IMG_9557


“It has been issued by the Institution that all citizens over the age of seventy and anyone else who could be seen as a liability shall be terminated within the span of the next two to three months,” the newsman says, his hologram displaying in my hard, glass living room.

I am seventy-one.

I swipe my hand in front of the newsman’s face, and slowly, the man’s image fades out until I can no longer discern his dark, cold features.

I remember Sned’s contact info: SnedwardWhite@EastAfrica.home. Then as I remember, I feel myself towards him.
Suddenly, a red light starts flickering from the corner of my glass ceiling.

Beep!

A voice speaks:

“Warning: do not move or attempt any escape.”

Beep!

“Again, I repeat: do not escape.”

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

I take no heed, though, and my body loses all mass as I begin to teleport towards Sned.

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

The part of me that’s still at home sees the whole room flashing. The beeping is only growing louder.

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beeeeeeeeeeeep!

My body grows again, but now I see my brown-haired, brown-eyed, average-height, adopted son standing in front of me, and the beeping and flashing are gone.

Suddenly, I feel an arm reach out to grab me from behind.

“I said, do not escape!”

I turn to look.

It is a young man with dark black eyes, blond hair, and an Institution badge on his chest. He must have teleported at the same time I had. As the keepers of the MindNET, the Institution’s workers have access to all MindNET transactions, so they could have perceived Sned’s address.

“How dare you defy the Institution!” the man shouts, grabbing a gun from one of his pockets.
Snedward pushes him off of me.

“Don’t touch my father!” he shouts.

The man growls. “Now, you are both under arrest for violating the Institution!”

“Catch us if you can,” Sned says, mockingly. He leads me down a staircase, into an underground garage. The man is following close behind, shooting his gun as he goes. The walls are dented.

Sned opens the door of his car, one of the few remaining automobiles on Earth, and helps me in.

“You can’t get away from me!” the Institution worker yells, catching up to us. His blond hair reminds me of burning fire.

I slam my door and lock it, and Snedward jumps on the man, reaching for the gun. The man slings him off his shoulders and shoots.

Whiz!

The bullet flies past Snedward’s head and hits the wide, metal door behind him with a bang, and again it leaves a huge dent on the building.

Snedward pushes a button next to the garage door to open it and jumps in the car next to me. The man runs after him and tries to open one of the car doors, but they are locked.

He screams a curse and says, “You can’t get away from me forever! You just wait. Your consequences will come in due time.”

But we’re speeding away so fast that he can’t actually do anything other than scream and shoot bullets that will only escape into the polluted air. Soon, he’s out of sight.

“Where are we going?” I ask Snedward, as we race on the dusty street.

“A remote village a little way from here,” he responds. “They don’t have MindNET connections there, so none of the Institution’s people will be able to teleport there. We’ll be safe there since teleporting is the Institution’s only remaining means of transportation.”

“Safe?” I whisper.

Strike-Through


I’m not very super clever at using strike-through, so I guess I’ll post something now to get it out of the way have fun with it!

And since I have to add a picture to each post, here’s one of a skeleton-filled, haunted normal house:

IMG_9826

I hope you are terror-filled by enjoy all my strike-throughs!

A9: The Novel Tourist


A young girl named Tabitha falls asleep while reading a book and ends up in another land. She finds a portal in front of her with a secret message involving her book. She can only open the portal if she uncovers the message. She has to find a way to use her book to open the door, but after three tries, she is still unsuccessful. Will she ever be able to open it? What will be waiting on for her on the other side? Will Tabitha ever be able to find her adventure?


She had no suitcase, no luggage. All she had was a vehicle, but that was enough.

The young girl sat perched on a strong tree limb, novel in hand. Her cheeks shone chestnut red against her dark skin, and on her face was a blissful smile. The child liked climbing trees, and she liked reading. Nothing pleased her so much as an afternoon where she was free to do both.

Tabitha had just borrowed this novel from the library, and she had not even read the first page. She opened the large volume, the first in a series of ten, remembering the title, Vehicle of Adventure.


8555554515_b3209b30c2_kand read all over” by Jonathan Cohen. CC BY-NC 2.0

There was something marvelous about the name, and since Tabitha loved marvels, she started reading.

This book is the key to your adventure, the first line read.

She wondered at the line. Most stories did not use the word ‘you’ other than when characters were speaking.

In lands of grass and shrubs, where no one has heard bugs, this book will be your guide.

Tabitha felt suddenly drowsy.

Walk in. Do not fly. An open door awaits you.

She could not keep her eyes open. Maybe she had done too much climbing for one day. She so wanted to keep reading, but she couldn’t. Her eyes thudded shut. Before giving completely into sleep, Tabitha shifted to rest her back against the tree trunk so as not to lose balance and fall over.


At least an hour later, Tabitha opened her bleary eyes and found herself not on a tree branch but in a wide, flatland. It took her a while to realize her surroundings, but when she did, she was not so much startled as perplexed and curious. As far as she knew, she might be in a dream or in a shadow of a dream.

In front of her, Tabitha saw a great portal with an inscription that read, This book is the key to your adventure.

Where had she heard that before? Suddenly, she remembered. It was the same line that had started her novel. What was this place? How had she gotten here? Tabitha looked down at her small, dark hands. There she still held her ebony-colored book.

In a moment, Tabitha realized that somehow she could use this book to unlock the portal, but she was not sure that she wanted to. The child wondered what would be waiting on the other side. Couldn’t she just walk around the entrance without using the door anyway? She tried it, but all she found on the other side was more flatland and an occasional bush or twig.

So, Tabitha decided, I must open the door. It’s the only way to get to my adventure. I only have one problem. How am I supposed to use my storybook to open it?

The girl tried reading the first line of the story, but that did nothing. Then, she tried reading the book’s title, but still the door was locked. Finally, the child wondered if there was an actual key somewhere inside the book that she had somehow never noticed. That would be strange. She would have felt it if it were there. She searched and searched and found nothing.

She was frightened of this new place and of what might be inside the door, but her curiosity was stronger than her fear.

The young girl slumped down onto the hard ground and sat in the grass, thinking of some way to open the door.

Tabitha looked at the keyhole. It was large just as the door was large, yet it was not too large.

A thought came to her. What if the book was the key? The inscription on the entrance did say This book is the key to your adventure not This book holds the key to your adventure. It seemed obvious, but something in Tabitha decided it could not be the answer. The book was too large to even fit in the keyhole, let alone open the door. She would have to try it anyway.

Slowly, Tabitha got up and walked towards the portal. She slid the book closer to the hole.

When it reached the keyhole, something happened which Tabitha did not expect.

The book changed. Instead of a large, black volume, it was now a small key, though still black.

The door creaked open without Tabitha touching it.

“Come inside,” said a voice. “You have unlocked your adventure.”

Tabitha saw no form inside the doorway, but the light streaming forth from its entrance was so bright that she could not look at the opening without shielding her eyes.

Tabitha tiptoed through the opening to the other side. The door banged shut behind her.

All around her a million colors and shapes burst into life.

“Come inside, come inside,” said a little figure, the same one who had been talking to her earlier though she could not see him. “Welcome.”

Tabitha looked down at the creature. He was shorter than her, though he was an adult and she was a child. He had brown, hairy feet and a plump frame, and his eyes reminded Tabitha of her grandfather.

“Hello, my name’s Bilbo Baggins,” the little creature said.

“Bilbo?” Tabitha asked. “But you’re not real.”

Of course, none of this was real. Tabitha knew a storybook could not really open a door, and that if the portal had been real, she would have ended up on the other side of it in the flatland, not in some other place entirely.

“You’re right,” the hobbit said. “I’m not real, or not in your sense of the word anyway. You’ve entered our world through that portal in the sky.”

He pointed up, and Tabitha could see a shining doorway in the sky, the same one she had just passed through. That must have been why when the door had opened it had looked so bright inside. She had seen the light of the sun.

“You’ve entered the Novel Lands,” Bilbo continued. “We are the citizens of the Novel Lands, the characters, and now you are one too.”

Tabitha was confused.

“This is the world where all characters live,” Bilbo explained. “You are a character now. Jason has written you.”

She thought she was beginning to understand, but she wasn’t sure what it all meant. Who was Jason? What was real? Was this the adventure her book had brought her to?