Reflection of CNF

1. What are your plans as a writer (how do you expect to use writing in your future)?
- I actually do not know, I am definitely going to proof read and re revise my fourth essay. I loved writing it the most. Because football was such a huge part of my life, this essay was a huge refection of my life. I think writing will continue to be a huge aspect of my life since I am going to be a teacher. I would like to try to write fiction, one of my goals is to write a story of a football player, who is more than just a "meat head". To sum it all up I have no clue as to what my plans as a writer are.


2. Describe any changes in your writing style
- In writing creative nonfiction or nonfiction in general I definitely became more reflective writer. I started to express and write in a more emotional way. My old writing style was just answer the question or write the way my professor would like. My style was dictated by the type of writing i had to do, or the type of writing that was the easiest. Now I take writing assignments and answer them all the way, but using my own style. I don't write the way others dictate, I use my own style. This class helped me form an identity as a writer.

3. Describe any changes in your writing process
-Well to start off I now use a draft process. I was one of those writers who would just sit down and type. Once I started, I would write till i was completely finished, then save it, and be done with it. Now I write a draft first and go from there, like we did in this class. Another thing is I do like a journal writing about any writing assignments I have. I will look at the questions, then write about what I think I should write, seeing what directions I could take to complete the assignment.

4. Describe any changes in your attitude toward/interest in/understanding of writing in general, and CNF in particular.
- Well before i took this class i truly didnt know what CNF was. To me nonfiction wasnt really creative, it was telling a story in a non boring style. Now i understand that CNF is an amazing writing style that takes awhile to completely understand it. I now have a great appreciation of what CNF is and actually going to strive to become a better CNF writer. My attitude went from thinking CNF was a boring writing style to enjoying it and looking forward to reading forms of it.



5. What have you learned about yourself as a writer?
- Well i didn't realize it, I was told by Dr. Chandler and others who read my works that I am a powerful story teller and i write from my heart. I didn't try to write like this, it is just the type of person i am. I do everything from my heart, in my eyes if you do things like that, your doing them to the best of your abilities, all the way till the completion. Also I realized that as a writer i point out the littlest details or I have the ability to capture the moment that i am describing. For example wroting about the moon light reflecting off the ocean. The way i did it was i closed my eytes and started to type, Not accurate, but i knew what i meant. So as a writer i discovered through this class i am a very "deep Person", i use all my emotions.

6. What features of your writing do you feel are most important for you to work on?
- Well my writing mechanics. I sometimes just am so excited to get my point across i dont follow proper grammar. Its my main handicap and I am working extremely diligently on correcting this flaw.

Public Venue Project

Essay: “Life In Between The Whistles”

Publication: Sports Literature (http://www.sportliterate.org/)

Subject Matter: Mostly about sports and how they affected the authors life. Could be about what it was like participating in the sport or going to stadiums or the food surrounding sports.

Voice: Personal Narrative, Reflective (emphasize to potential submissions, they want very reflective work)

Form and Artistry: Combination of segmented essays, Dialogue, Personal Narrative, Personal Writing.

Length: There isn’t a mandated word length. From reading some of the essays I saw that they easily extend past 2000 words. It seems that the site doesn’t want to put a limit on a creative nonfiction essay because they wouldn’t want to hinder anyone’s essay.

Audience: Anyone could subscribe to the magazine, but for the most part it’s a more of a sport type of journal. All the essays are based upon sports and the authors are reflecting on how these sports played in their life. You can tell this just by some of the titles you see on the website for example. “Heel of a Glove” , “Ballparks” , “Memories of Peanuts and Beers”.

Purpose: “Sport Literate is a literary journal focusing on honest reflections on life’s leisurely diversions.” They say that they do enjoy receiving essays on all types of sports stories, but they are more interested in the reason why we play sports and how sports affected their own life rather then the final score.

To Submit: Please send a self-addressed, stamped envelope with all correspondence.

Sport Literate

2248 W Belmont No. 20

Chicago IL 60618 or email our editor an attachment

Indicate the type of submission in your subject line

Editor-In-Chief: Wiliam Meiners

Or Managing Editor: Gina Vozenilek

*you can click on their names and it brings you to a page where it has a format where you enter your name and information and have a small text box so you can write what you need to.

Reading Dates: submissions are accepted year round and if chosen the author notified. The magazine is published biannually and a subscriber for 20$ gets two issues.
Pay: none, but they do have contests, the contest this month is football and it is a 15 dollar entrance fee and winner receives 300 dollars. The website shows that they offer numerous contests throughout the year, each one on a different sport or topic surrounding sports.

The relationship to my material was the main part of the composing part of my essay. Each one of my essays was about a important thing in my life which made it fairly simplke to write about. The way i revised my essay was actually the sam trechnique ill use for any other revision i reread what iw rote and try to refelect even more on what i am reading because it makes me think more abnout that particular day or time i was writing about.

Essay #4 "Life in Between the Whistles"

Since I was about 14 I was always told by my coaches that “The Game of Life is like the Game of Football”. When I first heard this I had no idea what it meant so I would always just smile and nod. Well Saturday August 22, 2008 was my last game ever in my career, I will never put on a helmet, lace my cleats, pack my travel bag, or sit in a locker room again. Since my career is over the only thing I have left is memories, thats the only thing you can take with. I remember my first day of practice my freshman year to my last play on Saturday. Once that final whistle blew and the clock read zero that was it for me, my time as a football player was over. Where did the last 8 years go, was I just along for the ride or was I actually apart of the ride making my own turns.
I remember the summer going into my freshman year in high school, if you wanted to play football you had to work out with the team three times a week. My first day my dad drove me to the school and as I got out of the car he grabbed my arm old me to relax and it would all be fine. I gave him a hug and looked for anyone I knew as I was walking into the weight room. Luckily I spotted my friend Aj and we walked in together. As we opened the door we heard Pantera blasting and we got hit with a breeze of a sweat smell. For those who have never been in a locker room or experienced that smell, when it hits you it knocks you back and you make that face when you have something sour in your mouth.
As we walked in I was shocked as I looked around,a ll these guys were huge, everyone of them was lifting crazy amount of weight. Right then and there I started debating in my head if I was really capable of playing football. Then it seemed in a domino affect everyone started to look at me and Aj. We both stood next to each other and had no clue on what to do. Then a big kid named Steve walked over top us and started to talk to us. He walked us around the weight room and introduced us to some other guys. Everyone was really cool, poking fun on how we looked when we first walked in. The they asked us if we ever played before and Aj did, I never did. I told them how I was a hockey player and that when I came to Raritan I found out that they didn't have a hockey team and since I enjoyed hitting people, I figure I try football. Aj told them how he was a wide receiver I told them I had absolutely no clue on what position I was going to play. Then they asked if we knew we were 2 hours early. We were like completely confused, we were told to be there by 6 am, 5:45am to be precise. In football and in like any team sport, “Your late when your one time, your on time when your 15 minutes early”. They told us how the freshman team worked out on their own at 8 am.
So after we talked to some coaches they told us we could hangout and learn some of the lifting techniques cause we never lifted before. The around 8 the rest of the freshman team started to roll in and we meant our coaches. They were both former players, the offensive coach was from Raritan, and the defensive coordinator ironically was from our rivals St. Johns. Once they introduced themselves they said that we would be the best conditioned team in the schools history, that debate of I wanted to play started up again in my head. We then went outside and started to run “gasers”, which is a a 200 hundred yard sprint, 50 yards down then back then down and back again. As we all lined up our coaches yelled out that we all had to be across the line in 53 seconds or it didn't count. The whistle blew and I took off and once I finished my heart was racing. We all finished in 53 seconds and the coaches said they were impressed. Once I heard that I figure how hard could it be, then he yelled how some of the kids weren't looking at him as he talked so the first one didn't count. Then he blew the whistle and we took off again. This went on until we did about 4 and my heart was racing and I felt dizzy. Then the coaches yelled that we were “dogging” it so we owed him one last one. He blew the whistle and we took off my legs felt like rubber, and I couldn't breathe as I crossed the line on the last on I fell to the ground and threw up. I felt so embarrassed and then I looked over and I was like 1 of 15 guys who were all throwing up.
So this went on like this all summer, we would get to the weight room, work out for an hour and go outside and run till we all puked basically. Every time we m,made the sprint in the time, there was some reason why it didn't count and we owed him another one. The season started as well as the school year and I was nervous, high school was going to be different. School started okay and then lunch came around I was looking around and had nowhere to sit when I heard my name and I looked over it was a table of football players. They told me to sit and we all sat and ate. So I felt great that I was part of a team and I got to wear my jersey to school and tell girls I was a football player. It was a great feeling and I felt special. The only thing that sucked was that I wasn't playing. When we had our games i just sat the bench. I felt down and then that big kid Steve that I met told me too get through it and after the season if it wasn't for me, I finished the year and did my best. So I figured that and I was planning on doing it and I finished the year and I was about to quite when my dad convinced me to try it one more year.
My sophomore year was about the same thing as my freshman year, the only difference was I was working out with the varsity, and going up against kids 3 times my size. So the year went on and the kid Steve was a senior and he basically took me under his wing. He would take me home after practice, pick me up for morning lifting, and always tell me to keep trying. The last practice in full pads of my sophomore year my coach told me how proud he was of me and how I had such a great work ethic . He then went on to say how he was going to find a spot for me on the field. That meant I was going to get game time. My junior year rolls around and at football camp I fought and got a spot as the starting right tackle. For those how don't know, I'm the guy on the far right who protects the quarterback those how don't know, I'm the guy on the far right who protects the quarterback. My dad was so proud of me and he called everyone he knew that night I told him I was starting.
My first game I remember walking in the lines as we made our way out onto the field. I heard the music playing and we all lined up under the goal posts on the far side of the field. They started to announce the starting offense in numeric order. Then they skipped me and I didn't know what to do. Then my head coach grabbed me and started to scream and the announcer pointing to my number. The announcer then called me and I ran out on the field to join my team, and as I was running I look up and the crowd was cheering. I felt so good and I felt on top of the world and the I realized I still had to play and I had to go against some kid I never met. As I was pacing around trying to calm down my dad called me and held up one finger. Not to represent number one but to say the first hit. He always told me that in a game its the first hit that matters most, because your showing the guy across from you that its going to be a battle. The whistle blew I ran on the field the play was called to my side, I ran at the defensive end, hit to the ground landed on top of him, as I looked up I saw my running back going to ward the end zone and then the crowd went wild. I was so excited, I did my job and best of all didn't mess up. My junior year we did okay, we made it to the first round of the playoffs and one. We won our Thanksgiving game which made a three way tie for our division, that was awesome.
My senior year started it and all my coaches kept telling me I had to take one a new role. I had to become a leader and be a example to the younger players. I never was considered a leader nor did I know what to do. Then after a practice I was walking to my car and saw a sophomore named Ed waiting for his ride, as I started to drive away, I stopped and asked and gave him a ride home. Since he was near my house I told him I give him a ride so his parents didn't have to. So after giving a ride home for awhile I was talking to him about playing and he told me that he was going to not return next year because he wasn't getting in the J.V. Games. I was about to say well its your decision and as I looked at him I saw myself sitting my passenger4 seat. I just realized I had that same conversation once before but it was me saying what Ed was and Steve was driving. I just smile and then went to tell him how I went through the same thing. I told him about Steve and how he helped me, and that I would do the same for him. So I picked a up little brother basically and this kid didn't everything with me that year. If I went to a party he was there. So my senior year was a blur we went undefeated and won a state championship. It was the first state title in school history and we were told we were all going to be inducted in the school's hall of fame. It was the greatest feeling of my life, then I found out that I was elected to play in the all-shore game which is an all-star game. So I felt on top of the world.
Then I came to Kean and played four years of football. The same things that happened to me in highschool happened in college. Starting as a freshman and not knowing anyone to going against kids that were three times my size. I then went through the program and became a leader on the team. Again I became an older brother to some of the younger guys and I thought I was just helping them with football. Then Saturday my last game came and we lost. It was terrible feeling walking off that field, not just because we lost just because it was my last time ever playing football again. So to be honest I was crying, and had my head down. My dad walked over to me and gave me a hug and told me how the past 8 years of coming to my games were the best memories me and him would ever have and how proud he was of the man football has made me. I walked away from him and as I walked into my locker room, a kind Named Alex came up to me and gave me4 a hug. He then told me what a pleasure it was to play with em for 3 years and how much I taught him. He then said that the things I told him not only helped him on the field but helped him in his life and how he was truly thankful for it.
I walked out of the locker room and headed to my truck and I thought about what Alex said. How what I told him helped him in life. I couldn't figure out how this could be then I thought about that quote, “The Game of Life is like the Game of Football”. It all made sense, the hard work, the never quiting, facing hard times, getting knocked down, getting back up, and no matter what keeping your chin up were all things that you needed in life. In life things aren't always going to go the way you planned or expected like in football, you got to call a audible and adapt to what the defense gives you. Football has made me the mad I am today. All the good qualities that I have in me are because of football. Yes, my parents brought me up right, but they could only tell me what to do not do it for me. Where in football I had to do what I said I was going to do. It wasn't about me and what I did for my own success. A team of other guys depended on me to do what I was suppose to, just like I depended on them to do what their supposed to. These are all qualities that I am going to need in life, I am going to depend on others just like I will be depended on. If either of us doesn't hold true to our word we will both fail. So to football I say thank you, to anyone I have ever suited up with it has truly been a pleasure , to my coaches I say thank you, and to my family I say I love you and thank you for all of your support.

Blog well who knows the real number, reflections on the comments

Well for the majority of the comments were all saying go fro the 4th essay ebing on football and i wasnt going to do it but as of 11-24-08 my football career is going to be over. Ill never pad up and play again unless im just fooling around at a park or somthing. So i think im going to write about the meaning of football in my life and how it has affected me and the development of my life. My coachs always told me throughty my years tyhat the game of football is very simialr to the game of life... To truly underdstand that you have to be a player, but i really didnt start top understand this untill the realization of my final week hit me that monday in class next week i am no longer a football player, it is now i used to be i am a former player...so i think im going to go to my old high school field, then to the fields where i played pick up games the im gunna go sit on my college field. No only am i dont iwth with football but i have been an athlete my whole life from august to about january i alwyas had a busy schedule and now i dont , so yeah the real world is going to set in......

writing about 4th essay

i have no clue on what i am going to write about. for once i am doumbfounded on a topic....i need some help.......i may write about my father or mother and the type of parents they have been to me. or i may write about football..........i really dont know

Draft for essay Number 3

I hope i did this correctly. but here goes for anyone who reads this i would love your optinions.


Everybody needs a place to go where they can “escape” from the world. For me this place is the beach. I am a jersey shore guy, I grew up with on the water and the beach. As long as I can think back everything something major has happened to me in my life whether it be good or bad I have always gone to my beach. In this place I am free from everything I leave my cell phone behind and walk the beach just thinking. My beach is about 15 minutes away from my house. Its a straight shot down route 36 I would give more details, but I don't want everyone trying to go to my spot and ruining it for me. This place has so many memories for me, both good and bad, that without it I dont think my life would be what it is today. Now I think about the important things that have happened to me throughout life and how this beach has been there like a friend holding my hand. I remember how I discovered this amazing friend.
When I was in high school I was living life as best as I could looking for fun in every situation. I met this girl through some friends and we hit it off, her name was Bridget. She didnt go to my high school and she wasn't like any girl who I had ever met before. The times we would only get to hang out would be late at night or like on sundays. Since we were only 17 and where we live there really isnt to much going on we were always looking for somwhere to go and hang out with some privacy. So one night I went to pick her up and as we started to drive she said she knew of a place where we could go to be alone. At that moment I was so excited ( and no not in that way) because first of all I was a prude and never had a girlfriend so my mind was racing with countless thoughts. We went down route 36 towards Sandy Hook and finally stopped at this part one the beach. We parked and walked onto the beach and I remember the first thing I thought was how beautiful the night sky looked. Tne moon light was reflecting on the ocean in that ways you only see in a movie. It seemed like god or something was using the moon to refect a path out to sea into the infinite unknown. I stopped and just stared and just couldnt believe I was witnessing something to amazing.
Finally, after staring Bridget grabbed my arm and started to pull me and so we started to walk on the beach. Ofcoure the first thing we both did was take our shoes off and throw them to the side. We were walking and I kept staring at the ocean as we talked about the most simple things. After about 15 minuntes of walking and talking we came to a very dark place on the beach and I decided to lay down and look at the stars. She first looked at me with an awkward face, but once I put my hand out and told her she could trust me and she was safe she layed down besides me. For a few minutes we just layed in silence staring at the sky. Where we are from there are always tons of lights on and you can only see some stars at night so personally I never really looked and cared for the stars, but that night it was different. The sky was black and the stars looked so bright and amazing.
We started to talk and attempt to describe the beautiful canvas we were looking and then she put her head on my chest and grabbed my hand. At that moment my heart started to beat faster. The sand had a slight coldness to it but it formed to our bodie making very comfortable to lay on. I remember the warm breeze and the sound the waves were making as there crashed on the shore. I closed my eyes and felt her warmth at my side as I smelt the salt water. To say the least I was at a moment of pure happiness. Then conventantly her phone went off and well we had to leave. We layed there for a few minutes and then she got up. The moonlight hit her eyes and she put her arm on the other side of me and looked at me. I gazed into her eyes and honestly couldnt move I was frozen in that spot and all I could feel was my heart beat. Then slowly we moved in and we had our first kiss. I know it sounds like a movie scene or I made it up but it was that perfect. We layed there and kissed and slowly got up and I gently held her hand as we walked back to my truck and I took her home.
Senior year came to and end and so did my night on the beach. Like most first love stories it had an end. We both got into college, ofcourse mine was 2 hours from hers. We tried to talk as much as possible but like all good things it had to end. We parted friends and still talk presently. After that one night, I fell in love with two things, Bridget, and the beach. Every weekend I could, I would go and walk the beach especially at night and smile. It was my place of solitude and happiness.
Though the beach has great memories there, it also has a few pain memories as well. These were the times I was in a dark place in my life and well if it wasnt for the beach who knows what would have happened. The worse one is the most painful of them all. When I think of this day and night I get a sharp pain my side and I breath very heavily.
It was my freshman year in college and I had a lot on my plate. I decided to be a double major, get a job on campus, as well as play for the schools football team. So to say the least I was coming to the complete understanding on what stress truly was. One day I was getting out of practice and was turning my phone back on when I saw that I has two voicemails. The first was from my friends just seeing how I was doing and such and the second was from my mother. When I got to hers, she wanted me to call home as soon as possible, and I knew from the sound of her voice that somthhing was wrong. So I dialed immediately and to this day I still can here the phone ring.
When she picked up she told me she had to tell me something and that I had to promise her that I would be strong and not freak. So I agreed and then got quite to hear what she was slowly going to tell me. Then I heard something that was so painful it was like I just got punched in the face by a boxer. She told me that my father was just diagnosed with cancer. My world just collapsed as I listened to her expalin what they found out. My dad hadnt been feeling well, he kept having terrible stomach pain so he went to the doctors and after some test they discovered that he had bladder cancer and needed to immediatelty go for radiation treatment. She then told me that this was going to be riskful because he was a older, out of shape, and not in healthy standards. After she told me this and asked me if I was okay, we hung up and I just fell on a bench. I couldnt breath and couldnt believe this was happening.
I know how cancer can be beaten these days and how there are so many medical advances that I should be more positive. The only thing that kept replaying in my head was how we lost my dad's mother, father, two uncles, and greatgrandmother all to cancer and other related medical issues that occurerd after they were all diagnosed with cancer. I was so scared, I didnt know what to do or where to go. So I went to liqour store bought a bottle of Jack Daniels and a box of newports and then got back in my car and started to drive. All I was doing was crying and just staring at the road I knew I had to be strong for my dad and I needed to clear my head. So before I knew it I was on the parkway going south and the I realized how close I was to my beach. I figured that is such a place of happiness for me I should go there.
Once I got there I parked and started to walked with my head down. All I could think was how could this happen, what did my dad do wrong to deserve this. Then I started to think how me and him werent as close and the last thing we did togther was fight over something stupid like coming home late. The I sat down on the sad, and it had the same cold feeling I was used to and I started to drink. I just kept rubbing my hand in the sand as I drank thinking of all the worse consequences that could lead from what I had learned. As the night progressed and my tears continued to flow and the drunker I got the more depressed I got.
After I was about 3 quarters of the way through the bottle I decided I had to walk a little so I started to walk down the beach and I felt dizzy and needed to sit. When I finally got my head straight I realzed where I was sitting the same spot where my and Bridget layed countless nights. I then did the only thing I could think of, I closed my eyes and started to pray. I remember I was clenching the sand so tightly and punching the ground and asking god why. Then I sat up and looked at the ocean and there was that same moonlight path I had seen before. I closed my eyes and and took a deep breath, as I was tatsing the seas air I gently felt the breeze hit me. I stood up and started to walk more on the beach. Thats when I decided I wasnt going to let this beat me or my father. I was going to be there for him and together we were going to get through it. As I stumbled back to my car I picked up what remained of the my liqour and dumped it out and then threw it on the ground. The I looked back at the bottle and ran over to it and throw it in the garbage. Then I went and passed out in my truck and in the morning I took another walk on the beach feeling reborn.
For the months that my dad was going through his treatments I was probably at the beach 4 times a week just walking it and thinking. As upset as I would get or what ever mood I would be in the minute I started to walk and breath that seas air and feel the sand on my feet all my feelings would go away. My dad is now in remission and doing a lot better. He still has to go get checked to make sure that the cancer hasn't returned, and on those days I make sure I take a walk on my beach to wait for the news. So far so good and im keeping my head up with everyday and making sure I let my dad know how much I love him.
The beach has done so much for me, it has given me my first and always love, while it also helped me get through a very difficult time in my life. The night when I was there with Bridget the beach took the role of being a setting for our moment together, and just let us have it in the best way. Then the night I went there because of what I learned about my father, it took the role of being there and listening to my sarrow and not judging me. It was like the times when your friends sit and just listen to you vent and dont say a word. There are many other memories I could talk about that me and the beach share and I know in my heart there will be many more. I believe in my heart that everyone needs a place like this to go and feel free but also feel safe. A place of pure happiness that can never be tarnished no matter why your there.

Blog 15

Well when i think of important places heres the list i come to think about.
1. My Beach
2. The Beach front
3. Spyhouse
4. Sandy Hook Bridge
5. The Scenic Route
6. High School Football Field.
Each one of these places has its own very special meaning to me. The top of my list is my beach, yes i call it my beach cause i go at night when no one is ever around and its just me and the water. i walk and close my eyes on that beach i feel like im just cruising along while the outside world is speeding past me. This place is very meaning full because its where i had my first kiss. I know pretty sad but it is i remember that night and it always makes me laugh. We were laying the sand argueing over the stars and then she put her head on my chest and looked at me, and i swear the moonlight hit her eyes like ive never seen before and she leaned in and we kissed, and i remember i layed there having no idea what the hell i was doing. this beach has so much feelinng to me its not even funny when things go wrong in my life i always find myself there staring at the water just letting go. This is the same place that my third essay is going to be aboubt. I always was searching for a phrase that describes how that place makes me feel and i finally found it in a book " The Perks Of Being A Wallflower" the character bryan is talking about hwo he feels when he heard a song and i feel the same way when im on my beach with my eyes close. "At that moment I felt infinite" Its hard to explain what that means but i wihs everyone has a place where they can feel that. The best part is every time i make my way back to my beach i always get this feeling and its always more powerful then the last time. First kiss, love, sorrow, pain, sadness, anger, hopelessness, happiness, and freedom is what the ebach has done for me. I dont care where i go or how far i am away i will always make a trip to my beach. i think im going to go there now so on that note..................

Blog 14

For the third essay im going to write about a place that means a lot to me. Its the beach. im from 117 on the park way its a beach town so i grew up on the water. I have a picture of the beach on my cell. Well i dont want to give to much away but the beach has been a place ive grown up and well alot has happened their. its my place of thinking. You know everyone has a place where they go to clear their heads or to think. Its that place when everything has gone wrong that day you can to clear your head. So its like my first essay i have a lot to write and im just gunna start and see where it takes me

Blog 13

The phrase "dont judge a book by its cover" certainly doesnt apply to this assignment. i actually was alittle confused by this but here i got. He has black gymk shorts on . He is wearing a a school jacket with a white tee shirt. He has a facial which is clean kept and looks to be maintained. He has dark eyes. he has a gold chain on with what looks like a cross as the charm. In his left he carrying car keys as he walks to a blue SUV... He smiles as he passes people,

Blog 11

So this weekend when i went home i went through of my draws in my kitchen much to my mothers delight. in them i found some weird stuff. I found first of all like 20 old batterier( mom says you never know when you will need them). I then found old cell phones. You know the ones that are huge but back in the day were the coolest things in the world. In on draw i foud some old pictures of me and my brother and sister when we were younger. Most of all the draws i went throught all seemed to hold stuff that my mom saved but i guess forgot about. I found coins to disposable camers with pictuires remaing on them, found birthday candles. The one thing that i found in my desk draw in my room which kinda made me think was my first ever wallet with my middle school in it. I remember that when i was a fresh man my grand father god rest him gave me what he called an adult wallet which i still have and use today. But i remeber that i saveed my old wallet jsut incease i needed it but when i looked at it i thought of those thinsg we put in ouyr wallets back in the day to what we put in them now and laughed. I went and told my brotehr who recieved the same gift as me but in a different color and he showed me he still had is and still used his. The one thing we laughed about is how when my aunt gave use new wallets last year we both just threw them in the kitchen junk draw cause we were attached to the ones our grandfather gave us

The Final Show Down 1 vs 2!!!!!!!

Well in the final battle between essays i have decided to pick ( cue drum roll) the first one is the winner because i want to look more into what i wrote and reflect more on it. There is alot i didnt touch upon and after in reread it i want to get down to the nitty gritty of it. Also i want to add some more and take some away, basically like cooking im going to cut the fat and give you a lean piece of amazing food lol ( sorry im very hungry). The second essay i like alot cause i want to revise it on my own time and give it to my mother cause i think she will really like it. So the winner is the first essay in the long hard fought battle, but it came out on top.....So i cant wait to finalize it and maybe get it published

Blog 9 Essay 2

So here is my second essay. It wasnt hard to write but i did get a little emotional while writing it because i remember it greatly.



You know going to college has made me reflect upon a lot of things in my life. You start to look at those things that maybe you take for granted every day in a different way. Well the thing that I reflected on the most is the relationship I have with my family. It all started my freshman year at Kean during football camp. I remember those 16 days like they happened 2 weeks ago, I could never forget those days as hard I tried. Those 16 days was the time I truly realized how much my mother meant to me.
That summer I was very lucky I was given a unique opportunity to continue my football career into the the college level. To say the least I was extremely excited. I never thought that I would have the ability to play in the next level, I was under the assumption that I would finish my senior season in high school and then go on to college and so on and so forth. After talking to my high school head coach and my father, I came to my decision to come and play football at Kean University. This was great because I wanted to become a teacher and Kean is known for education, also playing football helped me in receiving financial aide. So thats always a good thing, coming from a family of 5 with an older brother in college at Rutgers( where tuition was increasing like gas prices these days) and a younger sister who went to every event possible. Money didn't grow on trees in my house but my mother could sure stretch it.( as every kid watches their mother do) So all summer I trained and pushed myself to get ready for college ball. I was going out every night partying and having fun barely seeing my mother. At that time I didn't even think it was a big deal because I was 17 and all I wanted to do was enjoy my life.
Well the night before I had to report to camp came before I knew it and I was sitting my family room helping my mom pack my suitcase. After we finished she gave me a kiss and told me that no matter what that she loved me. She said all this because my and father and I had to leave my house at like 6am so she wouldn't be awake when we left. I remember that night I couldn't sleep, I tossed and turned all night because that feeling of excitement turned to that feeling of fear and nervousness. All night I just tried to keep telling myself how great college life was going to be and how my wish of getting out of my house was coming true. So eventually I fell asleep and what to me felt like only 20 minutes my dad was waking me up to get ready to leave. We packed the truck I took one last good look around and got in the car. As we started to pull away I saw my mom sitting in my bedroom looking at my window crying and she waved to me. I smile and waved back. I was thinking why is she crying I was only going 30 minutes up the parkway and its not like I wasn't ever going to come back.
Once we arrived at Kean it was a culture shock I had no idea where to go or who to see. I was up there twice for recruiting visits, but you don't pay attention you just listen to the players about parties and what college girls are like. After walking around for a little we finally found where we had to be. The head coach gave a speech and once that was over the parents could help the players move into the dorms. My dad helped me and once we were done I walked with him to his car and gave him a hug and I was on my own. I remember getting this feeling of freedom and I then went back to the dorms and got to know my room mates. At 6 we had dinner and after that we had meetings, I saw on the schedule they gave us each day for the next 16 days was planned out, every hour you were somewhere basically. So I went to my first college football meeting and well to say the least my head was spinning, because in high school they teach you one play or maybe two and your done for that meeting. In college you not only learned that play you learned how to identify a defense, how the play changes based upon a defenses alignment, so I realized quick that college ball was in the classroom as much as it was on the field.
So camp went on for a few days and you get into a groove where every day seems like its repeating the previous and all along I had this pain my stomach like I was sick. I didn't know what it was I just played through it trying to prove myself to the older guys. So finally around day 5 I knew why I was in pain, I missed home, I hated practice the coaches were always yelling at me, but most of all I missed my mother. I just wanted to hear her voice and see her. Then on day six I came in from practice and saw I had a missed cal on my phone and had a voice mail. The call was from home and when I saw that I was excited. I got the feeling you get when you wake up on Christmas morning, so it was great. I showered and then headed to lunch and started to listen to my voice mail. When I heard the dial tone click and started to hear my message, I started to cry so I ran off to hide behind a building so I wasn't to be seen. The message was from my mom asking me how I was doing and saying she loved me, but also telling me about the things that were happening at home. So to say the least as I wiped my tears I started to get that stomach pain again and I became really upset. The worse part was I couldn't bring myself to call home because I felt like a terrible son, after the way I was never home over the summer.
The whole night after meetings I didn't sleep because all I thought was I had an entire summer to spend some time with my mom and just let it slip it by. I was up all night and went to breakfast that morning looking like a zombie. After practice again I had a message from home and when I listened to it, again it was my mom saying the same stuff and telling me stories about home, but the difference was at the end she asked why I haven't called home in over a week. After I heard that part I broke down again and my only rationing was to turn my sadness into anger and use it on the field. You can only do that for so long I quickly figured out, this plan worked for my for about and hour. That night I left my phone in my room when I went to meetings and when I returned I had a text message from my brother asking me how I was doing, what it was like, and he ended saying how mom was really worried that she hasn't heard from me and I was to call home at my next available time. I read that and felt like crap, not only did I let my summer slip by now I was making the one person I truly missed most upset. I started to slip into a type of depression and I was getting worse as the times went by.
Around the 10th day my phone went off when I had free time, and the call was from my brother so I answered. To my surprise it was my mom and the minute I heard her voice I started to cry. Like all moms she knew I was upset and she started to talk to me. All I could say was how sorry I was and how much I missed her and how much I loved her. My mom is a very strong lady and she wont let me know shes crying, so she put a front on as she tried to calm me down, but I knew she was upset too. I told her how much I hated it and how much I wanted to come home. All she said was that she really wanted me to try to fight through one season and if afterwards I quite then hey I tried right. I didn't even want to look that far ahead all I was thinking about was coming home after camp for our one day off. So we talked some more and finally I made her a deal that I would call home every night and we would talk, and if I wanted to it could be about football, but if I wanted to talk about something else that was fine as well.
So every night I called home and we talked for about a hour and I had to lie to my room mates so they didn't think I was a wimp or something so when I would call home I would just tell them it was my friends on the line. Every night we talked and every time I heard her voice on the line at first I would cry. Things started to get better and my stomach pain started to dwindle into nothing. Some nights we would talk about how our puppies were or what my sister was up too or anything. She even asked me about if I had my eyes on any girls. Of course being my mom she said it be nice if I brought home a nice Italian girl with dark hair and dark eyes contrary to my previous girlfriends, who were all had blond hair with blue eyes. That made us laugh and helped me so much when I was so home sick. So it came down to that last night of camp and like usual we talked and that night it was about what I wanted to do on my day off. She told me that I could have my friends over to drink and she would cook on the grill for us. I told her how that sounded and great and how I couldn't wait to see her.
The next day took forever because of instead of focusing on the scrimmage I was in, I just kept looking at the clock planning my route home. Once the clock read quad zero I ran to the locker room. I got ready and waited in the parking lot for my dad to come. After a little bit I saw his car ran to it, threw my stuff in and told him to get me home as fast as possible. In the car he was asking me questions about camp and the entire time I just was giving him short answers, because my mind was on seeing my mother. We turned the corner on my street and I saw my house and as we pulled up my mom came and stood on the porch. I remember seeing her and I started to tear, once we came to a stop I got out of the car and walked to her. I got to my mom looked at her and just put my head on her shoulder and she held me. I was so happy to be in her arms and having he hold me. I look back and laugh because that had to be a funny site, me 6 foot 265 built football player leaning over to hug my tiny 5'5 mom.
We went inside and my entire family was waiting for me and I was ready for my brother to bust my chops about calling mom every night. After awhile of waiting he didn't say a word and I was surprised and kind of confused. I asked my mom about it and she told me that those calls were between me and her and no one on the house knew they happened. I hugged her and laugh, she then asked me what time my friends would be over and how much she would have to cook. I looked her in the eyes and said no one is coming and would she mind if we rented a movie and the family watched it together like we use to when we were all younger. She smiled said of course and that night we had ice cream and watched a comedy. I don't remember the movie but I do remember sitting next to my mom on the couch laughing with my family. It was a great time, that next night I had to go back to school for practice and this time my mom took me. She gave me a hug and I got out of the truck she looked at me and said that she be waiting by the phone for me to call at our usual time. So that night I called her and went like that my entire freshman year.
That was I realized how close I really am with my mother. Its funny because the personality I have got from her. Every good thing in me is because of her so I will say it proudly and will admit to it if I am ever asked. I am and will always be a momma's boy.

Blog 8

Well for my second essay I kind of in a bind of what i want to write about. I mean when you look back on your life you have stories to tell and things you want to share but you dont know where to start and how to get going. Thats what im facing right now i actually dont know what i want to write about. But after having my conference i think im gong to talk about my family. Alot of you dont know me or the type of person i may be, but i am extremely close to my family especially to my mother. She is the reason i have my personality and the reason well i am the man i am. I mean dont get me wrong my father is a huge part of my life and with football but comparing the two is like comparing black and white. Its impossible to make a comparison. So i think my second esssay will be about my family and how my mother has had a huge impact on the way i treat women and such. In a way right now im just writing what i am thinking.
I think im going to tell about the talks that me and mother have and the type of relationship we have. You know how you can always tell your mother somthing and the two of you will keep it from your father. Its like a bond thats is never spoken of but known. She has giving me so much and i know i can go to her about anything and how she will never judge me and will do everything in her power for me or my brotehr or sister. Its always us first. But i think my mother and I have a special relationship cause well my sister is my fathers baby, my brotehr is the first and oldest and thats special i am the middle child and the youngest boy. She was the middle child as well so i actually dont knwo where i am going to start or where its going to lead me. I think im going to talk about the times where its just me and my mom. Like the times i would take her to dinner, or how the conversations ill have with her over the phone while im at school. Or maybe when i go out drinking and come stumbling home drunk at 4am she will be up waiting fo rme , help me in and then make me breakfast. I dont know those are some of my ideas and i think im going to talk to her and she what she thinks.

Blog 7

Well to start the thing that went well in my essay was writing it. At first i was real nervous about writing it all up you know thinking would it be hard to get across would it be enough. Basically all the emotions you feel about any paper. But once i started going and thinking about my story it went very well. Well after handing it in and having my one on one with Our professor I actually am very proud of what i wrote. I know that i have to add some more reflective pieces in the essay. Also after doing what Professor Chandler said as thinking as a segmented essay as a a movie and every segment is like writing a movie scene, i know how i am going to revise my essaye and turn it into a really good one.
In my next essay I am goin to try to be more refelctive using the techniques that i have dicussed with our Professor Chandler. I definetly am going to use the italicized ( i murdered that word) technique that she told me about. So i am actually very excited to get started on my next essay. I was at first nervous because i had no clue what my next essay was going to be about, and hopw would i be able to top my first essay. But after talking to it out with our professor and thinking about it, i think im going to try to focus on my family or my mother, if i have, i'll just telll a bunch of different family stories that involve my mother and her side of the family and reflect on that.
But definetly in my next essay i am going to try to be a little less detailed and a little more reflective. Also im going some new techniques. Now that i think about it i dont have a clue how i am going to write it. Im just going to do what i did last time, sit n my laptop watch my rooma mate argue about NCAA, put my head phones on, out my itunes on shuffle and start typing and see where it takes me. So basically my next essay may just be a huge free write lol, who knows.

Blog 6 according to the numbeirng-but heres my draft..8-)

When i started doing the essay all i kept saying is there is no way i can type 5 pages on a story. I thought of every which way to stretch the essay if i had to. Like you know if i finished and it was only like 3 pages i had my plan layed out. But once i started going it wasnt is it going to be enough it turned out to be do i have too much. And the funniest thing was once i started to think about the day and story i was telling the memory became so real that i remember the day exactly.......So heres my draft god i hope i didt it correctly and before anyone passes judgement, it is a working title ....so for those who read it, heres the preview its 7 pages double spaced.......and i hope you enjoy so without further delay............

" The Realization that your a puppet"

I remember the first time I realized that the people that surround us sometimes dictate our decisions and how we live our lifes, contrary to how we may really feel. This day was so long ago, but when I close my eyes and remember it, this day feels like it happened not even 24 hours ago. It’s funny as I look back on this day I remember how my mother use to always tell me to never let anyone else dictate the man I am or the man I am becoming. As always I would smile and agree because I was 17 and knew everything. Truly I wasn’t in charge of my life that day, all my decisions were made by my “friends” and my true emotions had to be hidden to prevent being judged.
When I was 17 and a senior in high school I would always hang out with the same group of friends. I mean we did everything together, from going to the same gym to eating dinner at each others houses. The group consisted of seven guys which were never called their true names. Being like any close group of friends we all had nicknames for each other. The group went as: Fur, Mell, Shanal, Goomba, Ant, Butt, some of the names would need some explaining, but that’s a whole other story for each one and I would need a lot of time to tell it all. Where we lived was a small suburban town named Hazlet, where basically nothing happened. It’s one of those towns where everyone waves to each other and you know everything about everyone else. So like most young teens we would have to make our own fun out of the simplest ideas.
It all started one day over Easter vacation, when we were all arguing on where we wanted to eat that day. So after probably about an hour of arguing about different places to go Shanal came up with an idea that when I think about now, I see how immature we really were. His idea was to put all the food places in New Jersey that we knew of in a tournament bracket like they do in college basketball. I mean every place we could think of, from restaurants that everyone knows to the deli (whose name we didn’t know) in that town (which one of us would only remembered because of the food from deli) one of stopped in with our families one day. Each place would be ranked and then placed in the bracket following the rules the NCAA uses. The two places would then go head to head and the winner would move to the next battle. The winner was chosen by a flip of Ant’s wallet, because of course on that day no one had any change on them, so we resorted to what we could. So the pace with home court advantage would be given the back of the wallet and the visitor would be given the part where the wallet closed, then Shanal would flip the wallet in the air spinning of course at least 5 times and the side it landed on would be the winner.
We planned to go for lunch, but after we made the list and saw we had about 170 places to go it was going to take longer. So we started the “Restaurant Tourney” as we called it and about 3 hours later, and god knows how many wallet flips we had our winner. It was a little Italian pizza place in Red Bank only about 15 minutes away from our house. As we left it was decided (well we were kind of forced) that because me and Fur had trucks that we would drive. So we all piled in the two trucks, in mine was me, Ant, Mell, and Goomba, and in Fur’s was him Butt and Shanal, then off we went going on the direction of what Butt remembered. After turning to what should have been a 15 minute ride into an hour we got there and ate. On the way out me and Fur were fighting saying who could get home faster, so we all raced to the trucks and raced out.
We were driving like idiots, cutting people off and weaving in and out of traffic to try to get ahead of each other. As I strategically driving trying top find a way to get the best of Fur, I could here the guys in my truck talking and planning something to do to Fur’s truck. Before I knew it Mell had his pants down and was mooning every car on the road. As we passed Fur his truck was in hysteria with laughter so we figured whatever we would do it to other drivers. I didn’t say that I thought it was a dumb idea and not to do it, and how the entire time I was laughing I was really freaking out that sometime bad would happen. So we kept going and seeing how other drivers would either laugh or put a real angry face on, as we kept going I saw that a light green Altima that looked “hooked” up(which means we thought it was either teenager or younger adults car) was changing lanes as I did . So I slowed up and the guy got along side of us and gave us a signal to pull over.
We saw that the guy driving was a bigger guy and he looked pissed. I remember exactly what happened next, I started freaking out and asking what to do, screaming at them and everyone in my truck yelled basically to do whatever it takes to get away from him. I was petrified I didn’t know what was going to happen and all I wanted was everything to go to normal. Luckily we thought we were close to our home town so we knew all the side roads in the towns we were passing through. I punched it and started to drive really out of control and every move that I made this guy made and kept right on my tail. So I pulled in a parking lot trying to loose the guy, as I sped through the lot I was dodging people, cars, shopping carts, and it seemed every 2 seconds I had to slam on my brakes almost hitting something. So I was shaking, sweating, and breathing in a crazy manner, and the laughter that once filled my truck turned into a quite scared silence. Every time we thought we got away this guy would wind up back behind us. We left the parking lot and shot into a development that has tons of side roads so we thought we defiantly loose him.
After about a 1 hour of driving around in and out of different developments we came up with an idea. We called Fur and asked for help, together we planned that we would have Fur wait for us on a corner we knew and I would go around him and he we would then cut this Altima off. Then he would slow this guy down and I would slip away. I was basically drenched with sweat and pale as a ghost, but this plan gave me hope. So we get to the corner and see Fur’s truck waiting for us. I pull around him and thinking we were going right when Fur thought we were going left, we both turned the wrong way and our trucks hit, not stopping I gunned it. Now I was going crazy and said screw it and pulled over. We were all mumbling saying how no matter what happens we would all stick together. As I looked in my rear view mirror I saw what I knew immediately was. The guy in the car was holding a badge. He gets out and walks along side my car and asks for my credentials and not being stupid I ask to see his. He shows me his badge and I.D. and he turns out to be a sheriff from a town I can’t actually remember anymore. As Sheriff Lopez takes my information 6 police cruisers from 3 different towns come pulling up extremely fast and surround my car.
Two were from Holmdel which borders Hazlet, two were from our town Hazlet, and the final two were from another bordering town called Middletown. The cops all got out and started screaming at me and flipping out. A few cops even pulled there guns and had them pointed at my truck. Easy to say at this point I was shaking and had the vomit feeling in my stomach, I could barely talk and kept think I was going to pass out. I thought I was done, the cops all kept saying that I was going to be arrested and put in jail and my trucked impounded as well as my license being taking from me .Then Sheriff Lopez took my stuff and walked away, he took my P.B.A. card and threw it telling me it was pointless. Thank god as he did this the officer who he card belonged to pulled up and saw the whole thing. The officer is named Mike; my mother is his children’s babysitter and he actually a good friend of the family. He gave me the card on my 17th birthday and told me not to get in trouble. That’s ironic now that I think of it. I was then taken out of the car and sat on the curb.
As I sat down, my mother pulls up with my older brother. Mike and Sheriff Lopez walked over to me and had me stand up and explained why there were six patrol cars surrounding my truck and how my mother came to be there. I didn’t think she just happens to be driving by, but maybe she knew my luck. So what happened was Sheriff Lopez was driving with his wife and saw what Mell did and tried to pull us over to talk to us. As I sped away and started driving like a moron as he put it, he then used the radio he had in his car and contacted the local police in the town we were in for help. Since we cut threw Middletown and Holmdel they were contacted and we trying to help corner us. Every time they thought they had me, I would change direction. So when I stopped the chase ended and they all caught up to me. Then Sheriff Lopez and Mike asked why I didn’t pull over. I then explained how I was always told to never pull over for an unmarked car and how I was scared and really didn’t know what to do and mostly was listening to what my friends said. I always explained Sheriff Lopez’s car didn’t look anything like a cop car and how we didn’t see his badge until I stopped.
After hearing my end they talked for awhile and came back and laid out my options. First they told me how I was right to not stop for an unmarked car, but that still didn’t excuse for what I allowed Mell to do. That it was still my responsibility t control what the passengers in my truck were doing. They said that running from the police would be forgotten and that speeding would be forgotten too. The only thing was the hit and run that Sheriff Lopez witnessed and how that was an automatic revoking of license. Then I said how we knew the diver and that was it part of the getaway plan. So they said to get Fur and everyone that was in his car to come here. So we called him and then convinced him to come. We then waited, I was still outside my truck and my friends were all sitting in my truck looking around. I couldn’t look my mother in the eyes, I was so embarrassed.
As Fur pulled up Mike walked over to his truck and asked for his end of the story. Our stories matched up and so Mike laid out three options for Fur. First he could press charges against me, which would put me under arrest and I would loose my license. Second he could go along with the plan and we would both be arrested me for the hit and run, him for adding in a felony. The third option was we would all forget this happened leave and take car of the damage to our trucks at a another time. So obviously Fur took the third option. As he left I thanked him and we actually laughed over it.
I then saw that Mell was arguing with an officer and then given a seatbelt ticket because they said if he was “mooning” people he obviously couldn’t be wearing it. All the cops then started to leave and Mike went over to where the P.B.A. card he gave me was thrown and he picked it up and walked back to me. He then handed it to me and smiled then started to walk back to his cruiser. I asked why he had given the card back, he smile and said: “Your mom watches my kids and besides that everyone makes a mistake”, he then smile and drive off. My mom hugged me and asked what happened and I told her the whole story and why I haven’t been home in two days. She smile and we agreed not to tell my father.
I got back in my truck took everyone home, drove to my house and passed out. Ten minutes later my phone went off, Fur was having people over for drinks and he thought I could use one. I went over and his dad looked and me and smile. We all sat in Fur’s basement and just started to laugh. Everyone waiting their turn to tell the story of the infamous car chase. When it came to my turn I smile and told it the same way everyone else did. Except in my own mind I thought how lucky I was and the feeling of fear and paranoia that I had the entire time. As the next person told their account I looked around the room at each of my “friend’s” faces and thought how I didn’t have one segment of control of the day, how they the complete control and I was basically their puppet.

Blog 7.. 8-)

After reading this story, first of all i got a little sad because i have a few friends over in Iraq and other locations, and it made me think of them and what there doing to keep their minds at ease. I send my prays to them and their families and hope in my heart that i will get to see them again and shake their hands thanking them for what they do. I know this is off topic but for those who read this blog, you may not support the war and the reasons behind it but supports our troops. They took an oath to protect our freedoms, so they are doingt what they are being told is needed to to protect these freedoms. So next time you see a soldier say thankyou because their sacrificing for us.
Well after reading this essay is the truth about war and how it affects people. How the story about Curt and Rat tells the things that we may not know. How even in the worse of situations people like Rate and Curt who are just trying to make the best of their situation suffer. how a simple game to take their minds off the war ends up with Curt dying. Then rat thinking he is doing a great thing makes him mad. I guess he thought that writing this letter would result in a return letter from Curt's sister and then Rat would have someone to write to. This being maybe another way to for minutes escape the situation he is in. But when he doesn't recieve the letter this makes him mad and bitter. So finally to me this story is about the effects that those who actually witness the horrid events of war actually feel and go through.
The word truth to me is a huge part of the title because, we can read and ask about what happens in a war all we want but in reality those who know the truth are those who are actually there. That why when you somtimes ask someone who was in a war event or even a tramautic event don't like to talk about or even hear about it. So the truth can never truly be understood unitl you actually go through what they went through.

Blog 6

Well when being asked to rank the essays we have read based upon how well they meet the requirements for my own essay is was at first quite hard but then became easy so heres my list:
1. Orwell - Shooting an Elephant
2. Danticat- Westbury Place
3. Drummond - Alive
4. Lott - Toward a definition of creative nonfiction
5. Schwartz - My father always said
6. Didion - On keeping a Notebook
7. Alexie - Superman & Me
8. Kincaid - Biography of a dress
9. Montainge - That Men Should Not Judge
10. Jo Ann - Out There
11. Theil - Crossing the border
12. Oliver - Decent

Well making the list went more smoothly then i originally assumed but i guess that's why they make that saying "you should never assume". The first essay is loved the best and i think will help me the best because i still haven't picked what my personal essay topic but i do have it down to three possible ideas. I just have to figure out which one i want to write about the most. The first essay like i was saying i think will; help me the best cause the way he writes his own feelings and the emotions he was feeling during all the events. I liked how he showed the personal internal struggle he went through. in my one possible idea i had the same struggle obviously not about shooting an elephant but my own problem. My number 2 is "Westbury Place" because i had a similar thing happen to me when i was a child. I actually told the class about ti already but like our narrator in the story i was so involved in television's fictional plots that i would forget my surroundings. My number 3 although i have my own arguments and opinions about the piece but i loved the way you could feel the emotion the narrator felt and what she was going through. So that technique and writing style she used i may copy in my own personal essay. My Number 4 i chose because of the definition he gave of creative nonfiction, which opened my eyes completely and helped with the understanding of what CNF truly is. I have a bunch of lines marked in my book and noted which personally think are powerful and moving. To me they are the base of the CNF and everyone should follow his definitions.
To be completely honest with you after number 4 i really didn't enjoy the other readings. though they are interesting, they really didn't effect me or show me any styles i would use for my own personal essay. Nor did the experiences or stories told relate to me in any way so i don't know. I hope that justifies my reasoning for not explaining observations or experiences from the other essays. But hey though its only one mans opinion.

Blog 5

In the first essay that I read "Westbury Court" by Edwidge Danticate is the story of the author's childhood realization of her surroundings. The author tells about how when she (I think the speaker is female) was about 14 she would watch a soap opera called General Hospital. That everyday she would pick up her younger brother and then rush home to watch that day’s episode. One day though while when she was doing her daily routine a fire occurred and the only way she found out was when the firemen came to her door. She then tells about the two children that died in the fire and how she remembers their mother's face. After that she goes into telling about all these other deaths that surround her. So to me the point of the story is that we can become so involved in fiction that we start to not pay attention to the world that surrounds us. The story is written in chronological order and the way she describes the fire and the deaths surrounding her ads to the feeling you get from reading it.

The next reading “Alive” by: Laurie Lynn Drummond is about a former female police officer. She is now a civilian and in Baton Rouge there is a serial killer on the loose. She tells how she is on high alert and always ready to go in to hyper alert. She then tells about how while she was buying a newspaper she sees this guy who seems to be suspicious. Hoe every time she does something or goes somewhere the same guy is there. How while driving this guy is behind her for five intersections, and how she is noting his description. While reading this I could feel what she was, her nervousness and her fear. The man goes away and she starts to relax and continues her trip home. The story is written in paragraph segment form and this added to the feeling of the story.

Both essays I enjoyed greatly and am looking forward to discussing them. They both kept me hooked and wanting more. I too am really into television shows and some days I get so fixed on the show that my world around me fades to a distant second and I miss things.

Blog # #

The two essays to start are both brilliant and I enjoyed them greatly. They both share similar qualities, while making themselves unique with differences. Both are written from the first person point of view and this way you can become involved with the essay by feeling what the writer was thinking during the segment. In Orwell you could feel how it was like to be a "ill-educated" minority in Burma. How nobody likes you and the ironic part is, it's his job to protect all those whom hate him. Also I liked how you were in his head as during his internal debate of whether he should shoot or not. Because of the way it is written and how Orwell describes his status of the town, I got the feeling though he justified the shooting because it was the right thing to do, that he kind of felt a little pressure because everyone was watching. Besides doing what was right he also took in probably what would have happened if he didn't shoot what the people what have done to him. Montainge from what I understood from the reading is not so much talking about himself, death and history. Death wasn't looked at by him as a way to judge ones life.

The differences of the two essays are for one Orwell's work is a storyline that follows a path from beginining to ending. Montainge used examples of others work to comprise his own. He is though using the technique we saw in Lott by writing in the relationship of oneself to the subject manner. I got the idea that Montaigne's essay was about his own take on death and what he thinks it is all about. The tone of both overall works are different, while reading you get taken to a different place. Also the writers wording was quite different as well.

Blog # 2

In Jamaica Kincaid's "Biography of a Dress" she continously while telling the story of her dress, tells the reader what knowledge she had when she was a child to what she knows now as a adult. As she tells her story you see she uses the tool of reflection. This teaches the reader that when you look back on things from your past you may realize things that may have had a different perception to you at that present moment. As I read Kincaid's essay I could picture her as a child going through the events leading up to and the day of her birthday all the confusion and curiosity she was feeling, but when she as she retells the events with her more mature knowledge, you can see how she understands the things she didn't as a child. None of the other readings used this technique of going back in forth it was like she was using a reflective "time traveling" effect.

Lott's essay actually opened my eyes greatly to what my definition was to creative non fiction. In the second paragraph he has a line, which im going to use as my own defintion. He states "Creative nonfiction is, in one form or another, for better and worse, in triumph and failure, the attempt to keep from passing altogether away the lives we have lived."(p.270,Winding Roads). I agree with that entirely and believe that is a very powerful statment. Also Lott opened my eyes to seeing that creative nonfiction can take place in any form. My understanding was the creative nonfiction was only seen in newspapers or journal type literature, but now I know differently. I also really enjoyed the concept of writing about oneself in relation to the subject at hand.

Both essays help add to my growing understanding of what creative nonfiction truly is and the types of forms it takes. Also they showed me tools and techniques I could possibly use when creating my own works of creative nonfiction.

Definition of Creative NonFiction

After reading the articles and speaking with some of the members from class, I was able to come up with a simple definition of creative nonfiction. Creative Non Fiction is a writing style which anyone can use, but is commonly used by journalists or reporters, which entails telling the truth of a certain event or situation in a manner that grabs the reader and keeps them wanting more. Short in sweet definition basically is gets all the facts across in a non boring way.