For this Blog post, I will responding to questions based on rewriting our narrative project. What is Fan Fiction -- and why is it making people nervous? (Stephen Downes), Rewinding and Rewriting: The Alternate Universes in Our Head (Hidden Brain Podcast)
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In this blog post, I have rewritten a scene from The Yellow Wall-Paper (Charlotte Perkins Stetson). Also, I have written a short personal scene about a negative decision that I made that had impacted my life.
As John walked out the door, I thought this is the day. I am going to get out of this room with the yellow wallpaper. I quickly gather my notebook and pen and stuff them into a bag. I dart out the door and down the stairs. Before I reach the bottom step, I heard a voice. It must be Mary! She usually takes the baby out around this time, I was not expecting her to be here. I hesitate on what to do next, but before I could, I see Mary go out the side door off the kitchen, with the baby in her stroller. Now I am alone, and it is safe to go. As I swing open the grand double doors, I realize I did not have much of a plan after this point. I can’t get anywhere by foot due to the house being in such a desert location. I slowly sit down on the gravel. I can feel a lump in my throat as I am trying to hold back tears. Why did I think this would work? How stupid could I be to not think about how I would escape this house? Several minutes go by, and I here voices again. I quickly duck behind a column on the side of the house. I am watching and waiting frantically, but I can’t see anybody. All of a sudden I feel a light hand on the back of my shoulder. I jolt around and see mary. “What are you doing out here?” Mary says in a curious yet frightening tone. I didn't’t know what to say. I was frozen. “Mary, you have to help me. I am not ill! I need to get out of here.” “OK, follow me.” I quickly follow Mary down an old path in the woods. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Dad, can I please drive your car down to Temple tonight? I can park right outside Christina’s apartment.” I asked my dad, hoping he would say yes since I had no money for an uber. “I guess so. Be super careful.” Since I didn't have my own car yet at that time, my dad was very lenient on lending me his. I was always super careful when I drove, especially since it was a leased car. I arrived at temple, but the spot I had in mind to park on was full. I ended up parking a couple blocks away, but the only problem was I had to move the car by 7am the next morning. No problem I thought to myself, Ill just set an alarm and go home early. As the night went on, my girlfriends and I became very bored. Our plans fell through, and we all ended up going home pretty early, around 12am. Christina and I were not tired at all. We stayed up for a couple hours more, watching netlfix and making all sorts of desserts. Around 3am is when the night took a turn for the worst. “Hey christina, since were still awake and we have to leave by 7am, why don't we just drive home now?” I said to her, not thinking about the possible outcomes. “OK sure, but how about I drive since you had a couple drinks.” Christina got up and starting packing her bag. “Okay but be really careful.” About ten minutes into our drive, our GPS kept rerouting. We ended up on this shady street, still in North Philly. I rolled down the window to get some fresh air, when all of a sudden I heard a painful screeching noise. I looked the the left, and saw a large black car colliding with our car. As soon as the other car realized what happened, he took off. In shock, I told christina to pull over. I jump out the passenger door, praying the damage wasn't too bad. But in fact there was a large, thick black scrape all along the driver and back door. None of this would have happened if we just stayed. In this blog post I will be creating a new scene in the short story Bullet in the Brain (Tobias Wolff). Also, I will be writing a short scene from my life that includes symbolism. As Anders is staring up at the ceiling, having flashbacks on his childhood, he wonders is this really it? But the robber brings his gun down from under Ander’s chin. “If you say one more smart thing you're done old man” The robber says as he stares Anders down. Anders slowly nods his head. The robbers make their way over to the tellers. “I want every one of these bags full of cash!” The tellers quickly do as the man with the guns say. What the robbers didn’t expect, was there to there to be an undercover policeman in line. He was waiting for the perfect moment, for the robbers not to notice him. The robbers focus is one the tellers, so the cop takes his chance. “Drop your weapons now!” says the undercover cop, showing his badge to the robbers. The robbers hesitate, but they dont drop their weapons. One of them raises his gun to the cop but before he can shoot, the cop shoots first and kills the robber. The second robber shoots the cop right in his chest, and he instantly falls to the ground, and is bleeding out. Now there are two dead bodies on the ground, and the second robber looks a bit uneasy. “Come on, move it! Move it! All the cash you got now!” The tellers continue to stuff the money into the bags. About five minutes later the robber is out the door, with all four bags of stolen cash. In this blog post, I read and linked What is Creative Nonfiction? (Lee Gutkind) | Making Scenes in Memoir (Lee Martin . My professor asked us to take a present scene form our lives and write about it. Most of my time is spent at my job... As I park my car outside our storefront, I think to myself, what will it be today? What customer is going to make me want to climb over the counter and shake them to death after I answered the same questions five times? This is not an exaggeration because in fact I probably feel this way at least once a day. As I am clocking in, I can already tell by looks of the store that this will be one hell of a saturday. The sales floor looks like a clothing crime scene. There are hangers on the floor, all sorts of clothes thrown over racks, and a half finished milkshake thawing into the shoe shelf. How wonderful! But as my duty as the manager, I put on my painful 24/7 smile, and go about with my day. “Maia, this customer wants to know if she can get a refund for these clothes. I told her we don’t do refunds, but she’s insisting on speaking to the manager.” My co worker Gabby whispers to me, as a middle aged women glares at us from across the counter. I walk over to the stubborn women. “Hello Ma'am. As Gabby said, we don't do refunds, but I can happily help you pick something else out, or give you a gift card instead.” “What kind of store is this? Is this a joke? I want my money back now.” She reaches into her purse and slams her credit card on the counter. “Put it back on my card” She barks at me. This is that kind of moment when I wish I could jump over the counter and scream back in their faces. “I am so sorry for the inconvenience but these are our policies, and always have been. Now I would be happy to refund you a giftcard if you don’t have the time to shop today. What is your first name for the return?” My fingers are on the keyboard, waiting for her to respond back with her name. “F*** this store! F*** you! All I want is my damn money! I am going to have you fired, you b*****.” She gathers her clothing, stuffs them back into her bag, and storms out the door. “Enjoy the rest of your day Ma’am!” I reply back, with a giant smile of my face. 8:30 pm comes right around the corner, which means it’s time to clean up for closing. I look to Gabby, she looks at me, and we clean and conquer the store like we were competing for one million dollars. Gabby vacuums, I count the registers, and at 8:55 we are locking those doors, not phased by the fact that we have to do this all over again in 12 hours. |
MaiaI will use this blog to write about personal experiences and rewritten stories. Archives
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