Infestation...
It breathed a sultry sigh of terrible seduction down the rocky ripples of her spine, a gust of rotten hot air caressing her skin, prickling her hairs unwillingly. Hunched and alone, she waited as it stalked her. What else could she do? Run? It would only kill her immediately. A piece of meat ripe for the taking, easy prey to be slashed in half. Cry? Who would care for her lost tears when there were selves to save in her place? Everyone had left. Yes, even him. He who had pledged his everlasting loyalty and love to her, he who promised...he promised. Yet here she sat with it. This beast who followed through on every promise it had made. To hunt, to infest, to breed, to survive. Who was she to argue with its logic? Attack the strong, the brave, the men. Parasitically destroy its mutated host so that it might live. Vanquish all threat and deal with the weak, the feminine, the children at will. Take what it wanted, spit out the rest. Trash, they were. Vessels, merely.
It perused her neckline with a lover's pleasure, noting each blemish, each hair, each vein. Strangely, it was somewhat moved by her silent mutiny. Her body tightly wrapped in its own arms, fetal and vulnerable, yet defiant nonetheless. Intriguing, yes, a bit of delectable vehemence in an otherwise brutish infestation. All had gone fairly predictably. Charge, colonize, vanquish, breed. But this? Something looked different. Felt different. Perhaps it was the small of her back, ripe for the snapping and brittle with humanity. How it had secretly lusted after bones, any bones, to squelch its taste for something other than blood. There was so much blood, so many screams. It wasn't sure who...or what...was screaming any more. Shattering glass, bones, hopes? That was its design, its purpose. How stealthily it lurked, born a killer.
She sat in the bleak darkness, the electricity
of presence humming in her ears, the heat of the desire creeping under her skin. Like a childhood monster under the bed, it waited until she was comfortable, she was sure. Any moment, any breath could, should, be her last, and as the tendrils of her thoughts choked her consciousness she wept for what could have been.
It waited.
The choked sob morphed into a rush of exhalation that cared not for its intention. Come what may, she was a human being, one who felt and cared and loved and lost and cried and hated; she hated its gaze. Do it, she thought, just do it. Why make me suffer?
It cocked its head with intrigue.
Clenching tighter against her own warmth, imagining the golden flax of her mother's locks as they enveloped her with sunshine, her father's wooly whiskers that tickled her cheek and that she begged repeatedly for him to lose, only to find on a special morning that he was clean-shaven for her and her alone. With each clench she felt the love of her bedtime routine etched forever in her memory - the warmth of the bath but the intense despise for the washing of her curly knotted hair that truly housed a bird's nest or two. The laughter of her father as he tickled her to death as she screamed, "No Daddy!" but laughed hysterically as she half heartedly pleaded. The tender touch of her mother's caress as they watched, but didn't really watch, their favorite program, as the sensation of the caress took precedence over a silly tv show. The sunshine, the laughter, the warmth, the touch, the comfort, the looks, the hugs, the bond, the need, the family, the future, the peace, the life...
It was too much. Too much. It couldn't. It wouldn't. It wanted it. It could have her in an instant, this vulnerable piece of flesh. This pretty piece of meat. Circling in the darkness, it meandered around her core. Wandered slowly about her soul, taking it all in, knowing that each heartbeat could be her last, and soon would. And then there was power in that, a dominance that rushed through its acidic blood, coursing through its inner labyrinths a secret lust and hunger.
She felt the hairy bristles of a leg stroke their way slowly and deliberately, yet tenderly, down her spine. Bump...slow bump...tender lingering...slow caressing...smaller bump...bump...bump...and gone, a ghost...Familiar, in a way, reminiscent of a love she once knew. Catching her breath at the first caress, she wasn't sure when her last breath was. But all she knew was that it took her breath away - something erotic, shocking in fact. Her breath shaken, the rest of her body followed suit. Tingling with anticipation, it shuddered and quivered, and it knew it.
It was pleased. It had completed its work. He already knew her well, and could predict her every move. She had always hated that about him.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
JH #2
Author's note: Sometimes inspiration just doesn't come. I can't just say, "Yeah, I'm gonna go write now." Who can, really? The moment of inspiration for this piece was actually just now as I walked around reading through your coding. One in particular did a really nice job of picking out key words and connecting them together in a big web, which kind of reminded me of a found poem. So that's what I feel like doing. I think I'll just type a big list of words first, then try to rearrange in a meaningful way - and hopefully something completely different than JH, just to shake things up a bit...
somehow loveable
eminently human
like ivy
chief jewel
veiled
sinister
thrust forward
sordid negligence
blistered and distained
black winter morning
black, sneering coolness
enslaved
digging
labyrinths
melted before his eyes
without bowels of mercy
a spirit of enduring hatred
even in his dreams it had no face
frost in the air
reflection
defiance
the other snarled aloud into a savage laugh
decayed
black secrets
would be like sunshine
If I could make the choice
fog
lit by the full moon
great flame of anger
fury
embattled
a haggard shaft of daylight would glance in between the swirling wreaths
the fog slept on the wing above the drowned city
lamps glimmered like carbuncles
unearthed
go my own dark way
change pointed to madness
dead
abject terror and despair
more to come...
somehow loveable
eminently human
like ivy
chief jewel
veiled
sinister
thrust forward
sordid negligence
blistered and distained
black winter morning
black, sneering coolness
enslaved
digging
labyrinths
melted before his eyes
without bowels of mercy
a spirit of enduring hatred
even in his dreams it had no face
frost in the air
reflection
defiance
the other snarled aloud into a savage laugh
decayed
black secrets
would be like sunshine
If I could make the choice
fog
lit by the full moon
great flame of anger
fury
embattled
a haggard shaft of daylight would glance in between the swirling wreaths
the fog slept on the wing above the drowned city
lamps glimmered like carbuncles
unearthed
go my own dark way
change pointed to madness
dead
abject terror and despair
more to come...
Friday, February 3, 2012
Blog Writing Goals
By the end of the unit, you must be able to:
1. Demonstrate several thoughtful responses to others’ writing
2. Demonstrate for effect:
Unique and cogent voice
Deliberate manipulation of a variety of sentence structures/syntax
Ability to purposefully organize
Depth of sophisticated analysis/integration of ideas
Deliberate and saturated diction
And finally, proper mechanics and conventions are a must!
(No dangling modifiers, etc!)
Each student will conference with Mrs. Woods to demonstrate proficiency in the above areas.
1. Demonstrate several thoughtful responses to others’ writing
2. Demonstrate for effect:
Unique and cogent voice
Deliberate manipulation of a variety of sentence structures/syntax
Ability to purposefully organize
Depth of sophisticated analysis/integration of ideas
Deliberate and saturated diction
And finally, proper mechanics and conventions are a must!
(No dangling modifiers, etc!)
Each student will conference with Mrs. Woods to demonstrate proficiency in the above areas.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Jekyll and Hyde #1
Author's note: I love this novella. The imagery, the syntax, the thoughts that it elicits...they all fascinate me. Everyone knows that I love horror movies, and I think that it's partly because people behaving badly is something that I'll never see in real life. And because it's not part of my everyday existence, I'm intrigued by the unknown potential of evil in us all, and what makes it reveal its ugly head, not to mention the fact that we just can't bear the truth of it... This is a response to the first three chapters of the novel...
No one likes to have a mirror held up to their face that shows them the truth about their ugliness. The silvery layered reflection of our deepest and darkest desires dwells within, and staring at ourselves and truly seeing who we are shatters the fragile outer veneer that we work so tirelessly to paint. Our masks that define who we are on the outside, our roles that we play to appease society, our lies that we tell ourselves to hide the truth can only temporarily subdue the truth that evil lurks beneath the surface of our souls and there is absolutely nothing we can do about it. It smirks with a "black, sneering coolness," and it brings out the "sweat" on Enfield "like running."
So why can't Enfield truly describe what Hyde looks like? After all, the horrific trampling of a young girl at 3 am (why she's out on the street so late is unclear!) occurred recently, so why should he fluster when asked? He says, "There's something wrong with his appearance; something displeasing, something down-right detestable...He must be deformed somewhere; he gives a strong feeling of deformity, although I couldn't specify the point...I can't describe him. And it's not for want of memory, for I declare I can see him at this moment" (11). Like looking to the stars in the darkened heavens and trying to focus on one solitary diamond, only to find that the only way to truly see the star is to look at it peripherally, Utterson finds that there is no direct way to encapsulate the source of the problem. But that's just it. He is human, he has walls that protect him from the truths that will undoubtedly tear him, and the rest of us, apart. Who can truly look death in the face and say, "Yeah, I'm okay with this?" Who can know the most forbidden Faustian knowledge without sacrificing part of themselves? We can't. We can't see the truth because it's too difficult to bear.
The faceless and nameless evil that swims in our veins is better left unearthed. Ignorance is bliss, and if we only have a short amount of time here on earth, and we really don't know what happens next, then why not just enjoy each moment for what it is? A moment. A gem. But, alas, poor Utterson. Now that he's seen "evil," he can never go back. Formerly, it was "his ignorance of Mr. Hyde that had swelled his indignation; now, by a sudden turn, it was his knowledge" (13). That forbidden fruit is just too destructive, and part of me wishes that Adam and Eve didn't bite, that we could just stop wondering and be at peace with the world, ready to just hang around and love the beauty that is life. Why are we so damaged and flawed? It drives me nuts. Childhood was blissful until I discovered that other girls made fun of me for my talented ability to gallop like a horse, leaping picnic benches like Olympic rails. And I was GOOD at it! Gosh! I could leap those wooden benches like I was a true Palomino, but all they saw was a dorky animal lover lost in her own world, singing to her own tune, prancing to her own beat. My point? There's always that moment when we "understand."
Our ancient ancestors damned us to this knowledge. There's no turning back. So what now?
So where am I going with all of this? I think it's me just dealing with the fact that even if we can't name or describe the evil, it is still there, and we collectively know it. Psychoanalytic theorist Carl Jung's notion of the "collective unconscious" poses that there are certain "original set of archetypes common to all members of a group, and out of which they formulate meanings, contexts, and patterns within the group" (http://csmt.uchicago.edu/glossary2004/collectiveconsciousness.htm). On some deeper level, we KNOW when we look into one anothers' eyes that our thoughts and desires are their thoughts and desires. It just icks us out to truly acknowledge this. Hyde's evil is Utterson's, is the girl's, is ours. That icks us out, too. We can't HYDE it! How "punny!!!"
No one likes to have a mirror held up to their face that shows them the truth about their ugliness. The silvery layered reflection of our deepest and darkest desires dwells within, and staring at ourselves and truly seeing who we are shatters the fragile outer veneer that we work so tirelessly to paint. Our masks that define who we are on the outside, our roles that we play to appease society, our lies that we tell ourselves to hide the truth can only temporarily subdue the truth that evil lurks beneath the surface of our souls and there is absolutely nothing we can do about it. It smirks with a "black, sneering coolness," and it brings out the "sweat" on Enfield "like running."
So why can't Enfield truly describe what Hyde looks like? After all, the horrific trampling of a young girl at 3 am (why she's out on the street so late is unclear!) occurred recently, so why should he fluster when asked? He says, "There's something wrong with his appearance; something displeasing, something down-right detestable...He must be deformed somewhere; he gives a strong feeling of deformity, although I couldn't specify the point...I can't describe him. And it's not for want of memory, for I declare I can see him at this moment" (11). Like looking to the stars in the darkened heavens and trying to focus on one solitary diamond, only to find that the only way to truly see the star is to look at it peripherally, Utterson finds that there is no direct way to encapsulate the source of the problem. But that's just it. He is human, he has walls that protect him from the truths that will undoubtedly tear him, and the rest of us, apart. Who can truly look death in the face and say, "Yeah, I'm okay with this?" Who can know the most forbidden Faustian knowledge without sacrificing part of themselves? We can't. We can't see the truth because it's too difficult to bear.
The faceless and nameless evil that swims in our veins is better left unearthed. Ignorance is bliss, and if we only have a short amount of time here on earth, and we really don't know what happens next, then why not just enjoy each moment for what it is? A moment. A gem. But, alas, poor Utterson. Now that he's seen "evil," he can never go back. Formerly, it was "his ignorance of Mr. Hyde that had swelled his indignation; now, by a sudden turn, it was his knowledge" (13). That forbidden fruit is just too destructive, and part of me wishes that Adam and Eve didn't bite, that we could just stop wondering and be at peace with the world, ready to just hang around and love the beauty that is life. Why are we so damaged and flawed? It drives me nuts. Childhood was blissful until I discovered that other girls made fun of me for my talented ability to gallop like a horse, leaping picnic benches like Olympic rails. And I was GOOD at it! Gosh! I could leap those wooden benches like I was a true Palomino, but all they saw was a dorky animal lover lost in her own world, singing to her own tune, prancing to her own beat. My point? There's always that moment when we "understand."
Our ancient ancestors damned us to this knowledge. There's no turning back. So what now?
So where am I going with all of this? I think it's me just dealing with the fact that even if we can't name or describe the evil, it is still there, and we collectively know it. Psychoanalytic theorist Carl Jung's notion of the "collective unconscious" poses that there are certain "original set of archetypes common to all members of a group, and out of which they formulate meanings, contexts, and patterns within the group" (http://csmt.uchicago.edu/glossary2004/collectiveconsciousness.htm). On some deeper level, we KNOW when we look into one anothers' eyes that our thoughts and desires are their thoughts and desires. It just icks us out to truly acknowledge this. Hyde's evil is Utterson's, is the girl's, is ours. That icks us out, too. We can't HYDE it! How "punny!!!"
Jekyll and Hyde Online Text Link
http://etext.virginia.edu/toc/modeng/public/SteJekl.html
Please copy and paste each chapter into a word document so that we can text code on the computer! Feel free to do so electronically or print the chapter and code as normal. But please know that I will not be copying the chapters anymore so we can save some paper!
Please copy and paste each chapter into a word document so that we can text code on the computer! Feel free to do so electronically or print the chapter and code as normal. But please know that I will not be copying the chapters anymore so we can save some paper!
Monday, January 23, 2012
Response Format
COMMENT FORMAT:When commenting on others' work, please write: a few specific things that they did well, questions and ideas to consider for improvement, overall impact/effect...
Friday, January 20, 2012
URL Addresses
http://Writingwithwoods.blogspot.com
http://alexzabel14.blogspot.com
http://zoelorainkanavas.blogspot.com/
http://youngsterkc.blogspot.com
http://tylerstanczak.blogspot.com/
http://marissa1123.blogspot.com/
http://btenpas.blogspot.com/
http://johnsblog09.blogspot.com/
http://saigeswrittingcorner.blogspot.com
http://unseenunknownlit.blogspot.com/
http://extendedrealityfixingsociety.blogspot.com/
http://andshewroteforever.blogspot.com/
http://sri-languagearts.blogspot.com/
http://jastern33.blogspot.com
http://morganiscoolerx4.blogspot.com
http://www.thewritingsofelenalorraine.blogspot.com
http://ggeanon.blogspot.com/
http://alecsterling.blogspot.com/
http://jarry-joesblog-jarry.blogspot.com/
http://thenewjennifer16.blogspot.com/
http://www.biederi.blogspot.com
http://alliehohmann32.blogspot.com/
http://bailzisawesomex13.blogspot.com/
http://emmalee-gill.blogspot.com
http://mirandarae20.blogspot.com/
http://bdaul.blogspot.com/
http://mandaa721.blogspot.com
http://myworldofwords6.blogspot.com/
http://www.emmajansen.blogspot.com
http://katiewood14@blogspot.com
http://www.kittensnomnom.blogspot.com
http://joeporter14.blogspot.com/
http://speak-kailtyns.blogspot.com
http://restlessthinking24.blogspot.com/
http://brennaxoxo.blogspot.com
http://abbyswriting.blogspot.com
http://somethingcooltolookat.blogspot.com/
http://liamselfors.blogspot.com
http://danielleswriting-dani.blogspot.com
http://andescandies777.blogspot.com/
http://livritch99.blogspot.com
http://sarahwritingblog.blogspot.com
http://sammswriting-samm.blogspot.com/
http://www.michaelaklimko1234.blogspot.com
http://i-get-bored-teahsblog.blogspot.com/
http://justbreaathex0.blogspot.com/
http://dabney40.blogspot.com/
http://parkersefcik.blogspot.com
http://gabby-renee.blogspot.com/
http://zkanavas.blogspot.com/
http://b1englishfranda.blogspot.com/
http://alexj4568.blogspot.com/
http://alexzabel13.blogspot.com
http://jessswriting.blogspot.com/
http://hopelessbuthopingxoxo.blogspot.com
http://thewordsunwritten.blogspot.com/
http://theodubiel.blogspot.com/2012/01/short-story.html
http://hman33.blogspot.com/
http://abbeyvanhulle.blogspot.com
http://emmysensi.blogspot.com/
http://www.steviewondaaa.blogspot.com/
http://tayloriscoolx4.blogspot.com/
http://marissafritz.blogspot.com/
http://joanstarichenlglish.blogspot.com/
http://gloskyl.blogspot.com/
http://evanswriting2012.blogspot.com/
http://courtney-mywriting.blogspot.com/
http://kylerkylerkyler.blogspot.com
http://teammeatball96.blogspot.com
http://rachelkoski.blogspot.com/
http://lesliegriger.blogspot.com
http://emilycollins24.blogspot.com/
http://shawn833.blogspot.com/
http://atoureene.blogspot.com
http://bnaggs10.blogspot.com/
http://cartysparty.blogspot.com
http://jayconroy.blogspot.com/
http://tannerschoenike.blogspot.com
http://kellylandry09.blogspot.com
http://livelaughlove-sarahsblog-2012.blogspot.com
http://mouradianwriting18.blogspot.com
http://thinkingbeast.blogspot.com/
http://maggschauer.blogspot.com
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)