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
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Short Story Final Draft - untitled
Author's Note:Sometimes I like to complete the assignments that I give along with my students. It's partly to model the writing experience along with all of its successes and roadblocks so that they realize that writing is most certainly a painstaking process, a work of art sculpted over time and with intense attention to detail But...I admit that I really wanted to write again - it's been such a long time since I wrote creatively, and I just wanted to see if I could. After struggling with a topic for awhile, then settling on a girl who was in the open water and would inevitably drown or maybe even already be dead, I just started writing. From there evolved a bunch of new ideas - the seductive/protective juxtaposition, the different layers of understanding and layers of the air and sea, the loss we feel at her death. Then it occurred to me .... more after the story...
With an electric, explosive effort, and with the echoing beating of her own heart playing as a drummer's intense percussive rhythm in her clogged ears, she breathed. She surfaced. She convulsively inhaled the salt-licked air that fused with the depths of the unknown that cradled her. Rocking back and forth, up and down, the frantic panic still possessed her with a daunting omnipotence, a dominance that both frightened and seduced her. Something unfathomable and primal haunted her still, an eerie sensation that at any moment something might have the courage to nip at her toes, to caress her arms, to envelop her soul. A kiss in the dark, taking her breath away. But her memories were a frighteningly cold and heartless leviathan, immeasurably angry, and betraying to a shocking degree. And that was only at the surface. Darkness blanketed the sky above in various hues of deepened blues and pinks, the twinkling stars in a furious dash around the world, racing against the sun, failing at their charge day in, day out. Diamonds in the sky teased her with their freedom, their speed. Lured into a slumb’ry dream, the persistence of the watery clouds bleeding across the sable velvet of the evening heavens waned, content to relinquish their form to the winds once more. But in the undertow of her soul and at the core of her liquid heart she drowned in the knowledge that what lay beneath lurked ominously - a predator, a force parasitically preying on optimism…softly, gently, rhythmically. Threshing within inches, with smooth, musical strokes, the precision of the movement cast a current of energy through her veins. Lustful, charming, with fiery purpose and hunger, the desire consumed her entirely as she relinquished her soul to the knowledge that eluded her until now.
Tempted by her innermost secret and dark desires, she floated on the bed of waves, the cooing sway of the water playing with her hair as it would the grassy seaweed. She did not, for many moments, think, or otherwise dreamily peruse on it; but sleepily--so sleepily--she came to doze upon it with flirtatious moaning, and to cling hungrily to its presence, as towards the scent of her mother. Down, down, she drifted deliriously through the frenzied shadows of the dark and deceptive deep; quiet, quiet was the roll of thunder upon her heart lost in a storm of pressure; still, still seemed the murky below, the warmth a mere mist, frozen in seas of solitude. Far, far went the siren's swan song, falling gently with mermaid-like grace. Below the cold, into the dark, beyond the light, without a hope.
Fathoms below, the haunting remnants of the light danced and tickled each other through the invisible currents. There, the chill of the deafening silence was warming and tender. One could easily get lost in the prismatic lure of the beast’s belly, with its enticing amniotic hum of the deep and the safety of knowing that the outside world was miles away. It was the seductive desire of her soul to release itself--to offer salvation to its own torment--to crave love for love's sake only--that lured her to follow and finally consummate the fury she had suffered from the offending brute. This night, in these shadows, she whirled a waltz around the lights and sung songs through the wide open sea; --sung songs with the tears bleeding from her eyes, and with the loneliest remorse in her heart; --sung songs because she knew that he had loved her, and because she had given no reason of offense; --sung songs because she knew that in doing so she was resurrecting her heart--a glorious heart that would so illuminate her immortal soul as to deliver it -- if such a thing were possible -- even to the pulse of the frightened hearts of her most beloved and most devoted family.
Washed away.
Author's note cont: that there was a pretty girl named Natalie Holloway who went missing in Aruba, and that a guy she met may have either killed her or she had an epileptic attack - but when he dumped her body at sea, she may have still been alive. That haunts me...
***************
Mimic Phrases: From Poe's "The Black Cat"
“This latter was a remarkably large and beautiful animal, entirely black, and sagacious to an astonishing degree.”
I did not, for some weeks, strike, or otherwise violently ill use it; but gradually -- very gradually -- I came to look upon it with unutterable loathing, and to flee silently from its odious presence, as from the breath of a pestilence.
It was this unfathomable longing of the soul to vex itself -- to offer violence to its own nature -- to do wrong for the wrong's sake only -- that urged me to continue and finally to consummate the injury I had inflicted upon the unoffending brute. One morning, in cool blood, I slipped a noose about its neck and hung it to the limb of a tree; -- hung it with the tears streaming from my eyes, and with the bitterest remorse at my heart; -- hung it because I knew that it had loved me, and because I felt it had given me no reason of offence; -- hung it because I knew that in so doing I was committing a sin -- a deadly sin that would so jeopardize my immortal soul as to place it -- if such a thing were possible -- even beyond the reach of the infinite mercy of the Most Merciful and Most Terrible God.
With an electric, explosive effort, and with the echoing beating of her own heart playing as a drummer's intense percussive rhythm in her clogged ears, she breathed. She surfaced. She convulsively inhaled the salt-licked air that fused with the depths of the unknown that cradled her. Rocking back and forth, up and down, the frantic panic still possessed her with a daunting omnipotence, a dominance that both frightened and seduced her. Something unfathomable and primal haunted her still, an eerie sensation that at any moment something might have the courage to nip at her toes, to caress her arms, to envelop her soul. A kiss in the dark, taking her breath away. But her memories were a frighteningly cold and heartless leviathan, immeasurably angry, and betraying to a shocking degree. And that was only at the surface. Darkness blanketed the sky above in various hues of deepened blues and pinks, the twinkling stars in a furious dash around the world, racing against the sun, failing at their charge day in, day out. Diamonds in the sky teased her with their freedom, their speed. Lured into a slumb’ry dream, the persistence of the watery clouds bleeding across the sable velvet of the evening heavens waned, content to relinquish their form to the winds once more. But in the undertow of her soul and at the core of her liquid heart she drowned in the knowledge that what lay beneath lurked ominously - a predator, a force parasitically preying on optimism…softly, gently, rhythmically. Threshing within inches, with smooth, musical strokes, the precision of the movement cast a current of energy through her veins. Lustful, charming, with fiery purpose and hunger, the desire consumed her entirely as she relinquished her soul to the knowledge that eluded her until now.
Tempted by her innermost secret and dark desires, she floated on the bed of waves, the cooing sway of the water playing with her hair as it would the grassy seaweed. She did not, for many moments, think, or otherwise dreamily peruse on it; but sleepily--so sleepily--she came to doze upon it with flirtatious moaning, and to cling hungrily to its presence, as towards the scent of her mother. Down, down, she drifted deliriously through the frenzied shadows of the dark and deceptive deep; quiet, quiet was the roll of thunder upon her heart lost in a storm of pressure; still, still seemed the murky below, the warmth a mere mist, frozen in seas of solitude. Far, far went the siren's swan song, falling gently with mermaid-like grace. Below the cold, into the dark, beyond the light, without a hope.
Fathoms below, the haunting remnants of the light danced and tickled each other through the invisible currents. There, the chill of the deafening silence was warming and tender. One could easily get lost in the prismatic lure of the beast’s belly, with its enticing amniotic hum of the deep and the safety of knowing that the outside world was miles away. It was the seductive desire of her soul to release itself--to offer salvation to its own torment--to crave love for love's sake only--that lured her to follow and finally consummate the fury she had suffered from the offending brute. This night, in these shadows, she whirled a waltz around the lights and sung songs through the wide open sea; --sung songs with the tears bleeding from her eyes, and with the loneliest remorse in her heart; --sung songs because she knew that he had loved her, and because she had given no reason of offense; --sung songs because she knew that in doing so she was resurrecting her heart--a glorious heart that would so illuminate her immortal soul as to deliver it -- if such a thing were possible -- even to the pulse of the frightened hearts of her most beloved and most devoted family.
Washed away.
Author's note cont: that there was a pretty girl named Natalie Holloway who went missing in Aruba, and that a guy she met may have either killed her or she had an epileptic attack - but when he dumped her body at sea, she may have still been alive. That haunts me...
***************
Mimic Phrases: From Poe's "The Black Cat"
“This latter was a remarkably large and beautiful animal, entirely black, and sagacious to an astonishing degree.”
I did not, for some weeks, strike, or otherwise violently ill use it; but gradually -- very gradually -- I came to look upon it with unutterable loathing, and to flee silently from its odious presence, as from the breath of a pestilence.
It was this unfathomable longing of the soul to vex itself -- to offer violence to its own nature -- to do wrong for the wrong's sake only -- that urged me to continue and finally to consummate the injury I had inflicted upon the unoffending brute. One morning, in cool blood, I slipped a noose about its neck and hung it to the limb of a tree; -- hung it with the tears streaming from my eyes, and with the bitterest remorse at my heart; -- hung it because I knew that it had loved me, and because I felt it had given me no reason of offence; -- hung it because I knew that in so doing I was committing a sin -- a deadly sin that would so jeopardize my immortal soul as to place it -- if such a thing were possible -- even beyond the reach of the infinite mercy of the Most Merciful and Most Terrible God.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Short Story 5.0
Here's the yucky mess that I have so far. I admit that at this point I'm tired of the girl in the water. And, I've been consumed with helping kids revise their work. But I promise that I'll complete it soon!
:)
With an electric, explosive effort, and with the echoing beating of her own heart playing as a drummer's intense percussive rhythm in her clogged ears, she breathed. She surfaced. She convulsively inhaled the salt-licked air that fused with the depths of the unknown that cradled her. Rocking back and forth, up and down, the frantic panic still possessed her with a daunting omnipotence, a dominance that both frightened and seduced her. Something unfathomable and primal haunted her still, an eerie sensation that at any moment something might have the courage to nip at her toes, to caress her arms, to envelop her soul. A kiss in the dark, taking her breath away. But her memories were a frighteningly cold and heartless leviathan, immeasurably angry, and betraying to a shocking degree. And that was only at the surface. Darkness blanketed the sky above in various hues of deepened blues and pinks, the twinkling stars in a furious dash around the world, racing against the sun, failing at their charge day in, day out. Diamonds in the sky teased her with their freedom, their speed. Lured into a slumb’ry dream, the persistence of the watery clouds bleeding across the sable velvet of the evening heavens waned, content to relinquish their form to the winds once more. But in the undertow of her soul and at the core of her liquid heart she drowned in the knowledge that what lay beneath lurked ominously - a predator, a force parasitically preying on optimism…softly, gently, rhythmically. Threshing within inches, with smooth, musical strokes, the precision of the movement cast a current of energy through her veins. Lustful, charming, with fiery purpose and hunger, the desire consumed her entirely as she relinquished her soul to the knowledge that eluded her until now.
Tempted by her innermost secret dark desires, she rested on the bed of waves, the cooing sway of the water playing with her hair as it would the grassy seaweed. She did not, for many moments, think, or otherwise
***************
And here I end for now. Below are my notes and mimic phrases so I don't lose them.
Any advice or comments are appreciated!
I did not, for some weeks, strike, or otherwise violently ill use it; but gradually -- very gradually -- I came to look upon it with unutterable loathing, and to flee silently from its odious presence, as from the breath of a pestilence.
Fathoms below, the haunting remnants of the light danced and tickled each other through the invisible currents. There, the chill of the deafening silence was warming and tender. One could easily get lost in the prismatic lure of the beast’s belly, with its enticing amniotic hum of the deep and the safety of knowing that the outside world was miles away.
“This latter was a remarkably large and beautiful animal, entirely black, and sagacious to an astonishing degree.”
It was this unfathomable longing of the soul to vex itself -- to offer violence to its own nature -- to do wrong for the wrong's sake only -- that urged me to continue and finally to consummate the injury I had inflicted upon the unoffending brute. One morning, in cool blood, I slipped a noose about its neck and hung it to the limb of a tree; -- hung it with the tears streaming from my eyes, and with the bitterest remorse at my heart; -- hung it because I knew that it had loved me, and because I felt it had given me no reason of offence; -- hung it because I knew that in so doing I was committing a sin -- a deadly sin that would so jeopardize my immortal soul as to place it -- if such a thing were possible -- even beyond the reach of the infinite mercy of the Most Merciful and Most Terrible God.
Evil thoughts became my sole intimates -- the darkest and most evil of thoughts.
Mimic Phrase from Black Cat: I like it because it is descriptive without being trite.
“This latter was a remarkably large and beautiful animal, entirely black, and sagacious to an astonishing degree.”
:)
With an electric, explosive effort, and with the echoing beating of her own heart playing as a drummer's intense percussive rhythm in her clogged ears, she breathed. She surfaced. She convulsively inhaled the salt-licked air that fused with the depths of the unknown that cradled her. Rocking back and forth, up and down, the frantic panic still possessed her with a daunting omnipotence, a dominance that both frightened and seduced her. Something unfathomable and primal haunted her still, an eerie sensation that at any moment something might have the courage to nip at her toes, to caress her arms, to envelop her soul. A kiss in the dark, taking her breath away. But her memories were a frighteningly cold and heartless leviathan, immeasurably angry, and betraying to a shocking degree. And that was only at the surface. Darkness blanketed the sky above in various hues of deepened blues and pinks, the twinkling stars in a furious dash around the world, racing against the sun, failing at their charge day in, day out. Diamonds in the sky teased her with their freedom, their speed. Lured into a slumb’ry dream, the persistence of the watery clouds bleeding across the sable velvet of the evening heavens waned, content to relinquish their form to the winds once more. But in the undertow of her soul and at the core of her liquid heart she drowned in the knowledge that what lay beneath lurked ominously - a predator, a force parasitically preying on optimism…softly, gently, rhythmically. Threshing within inches, with smooth, musical strokes, the precision of the movement cast a current of energy through her veins. Lustful, charming, with fiery purpose and hunger, the desire consumed her entirely as she relinquished her soul to the knowledge that eluded her until now.
Tempted by her innermost secret dark desires, she rested on the bed of waves, the cooing sway of the water playing with her hair as it would the grassy seaweed. She did not, for many moments, think, or otherwise
***************
And here I end for now. Below are my notes and mimic phrases so I don't lose them.
Any advice or comments are appreciated!
I did not, for some weeks, strike, or otherwise violently ill use it; but gradually -- very gradually -- I came to look upon it with unutterable loathing, and to flee silently from its odious presence, as from the breath of a pestilence.
Fathoms below, the haunting remnants of the light danced and tickled each other through the invisible currents. There, the chill of the deafening silence was warming and tender. One could easily get lost in the prismatic lure of the beast’s belly, with its enticing amniotic hum of the deep and the safety of knowing that the outside world was miles away.
“This latter was a remarkably large and beautiful animal, entirely black, and sagacious to an astonishing degree.”
It was this unfathomable longing of the soul to vex itself -- to offer violence to its own nature -- to do wrong for the wrong's sake only -- that urged me to continue and finally to consummate the injury I had inflicted upon the unoffending brute. One morning, in cool blood, I slipped a noose about its neck and hung it to the limb of a tree; -- hung it with the tears streaming from my eyes, and with the bitterest remorse at my heart; -- hung it because I knew that it had loved me, and because I felt it had given me no reason of offence; -- hung it because I knew that in so doing I was committing a sin -- a deadly sin that would so jeopardize my immortal soul as to place it -- if such a thing were possible -- even beyond the reach of the infinite mercy of the Most Merciful and Most Terrible God.
Evil thoughts became my sole intimates -- the darkest and most evil of thoughts.
Mimic Phrase from Black Cat: I like it because it is descriptive without being trite.
“This latter was a remarkably large and beautiful animal, entirely black, and sagacious to an astonishing degree.”
Purpose of the Blog
So here we are! A class of writers, thinkers, artists. My hope in using our blogs is to have access to each others' writing more often as well as to comment on others' writing in a helpful and collaborative manner. Therefore, I'm going to ask that you authentically engage in the Blogging process.
Each student must have a Blogger page. Please email the URL to me. I will compile a class list of all 88 Blogs. Yes, 88. However, I'm only going to ask that you follow a minimum of 25. These Blogs can belong to any current HE10 member, not necessarily those from your specific class.
Please post all of your writing! Start with your short story.
ALL posts, comments, pictures, etc., MUST BE SCHOOL APPROPRIATE. When in doubt, please ask.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: For school assignments, please include an author's note that briefly explains the assignment, the background knowledge needed, what you're trying to get across in your writing, etc.
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...
Each student must have a Blogger page. Please email the URL to me. I will compile a class list of all 88 Blogs. Yes, 88. However, I'm only going to ask that you follow a minimum of 25. These Blogs can belong to any current HE10 member, not necessarily those from your specific class.
Please post all of your writing! Start with your short story.
ALL posts, comments, pictures, etc., MUST BE SCHOOL APPROPRIATE. When in doubt, please ask.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: For school assignments, please include an author's note that briefly explains the assignment, the background knowledge needed, what you're trying to get across in your writing, etc.
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...
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