Writing About Our Course Stories [Categories: Life Choice, Course Reading, Re-Genre]: Please complete the following:
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) Writing About A Good Man is Hard To Find [Categories: Life Choice, Course Reading, Re-Genre]: Please complete the following:
In this found poem I used the theme of family…and whether they are a blessing or curse. You could say that Bailey should have listened to his mother, or you could say the grandmother jinxed the family. Mother Knows Best THE GRANDMOTHER didn’t want to go to Florida “Here this fellow that calls himself The Misfit is aloose from the Federal Pen and headed toward Florida… “Yes and what would you do if this fellow, The Misfit, caught you?” the grandmother asked. “I’d smack his face,” John Wesley said. She had pinned a purple spray of cloth violets containing a sachet. In case of an accident, anyone seeing her dead on the highway would know at once that she was a lady. Just as she said it, a horrible thought came to her. The car turned over once and landed right-side-up in a gulch off the side of the road. “We’ve had an ACCIDENT! The grandmother was curled up under the dashboard, hoping she was injured so that Bailey’s wrath would not come down on her all at once. Behind the ditch they were sitting in there were more woods, tall and dark and deep they saw a car some distance away on top of a hill The grandmother had the peculiar feeling The grandmother shrieked. “You’re The Misfit!” There was a pistol shot from the woods, followed closely by another. The Misfit sprang back as if a snake had bitten him and shot her three times through the chest. “She would of been a good woman,” The Misfit said, “if it had been somebody there to shoot her every minute of her life.” In my second found poem I used the theme of faith. The grandmother clearly had strong faith and believed if she could get “The Misfit” to pray her life would be spared. Pray, pray, pray “You wouldn’t shoot a lady, would you?” the grandmother said and removed a clean handkerchief from her cuff and began to slap at her eyes with it. “I would hate to have to,” he said. “Listen,” the grandmother almost screamed, “I know you’re a good man. You don’t look a bit like you have com- mon blood. I know you must come from nice people!” “Do you ever pray?” she asked. “Pray, pray,” the grandmother began, “pray, pray . . .” “That’s when you should have started to pray,” she said “If you would pray,” the old lady said, “Jesus would help you.” “Well then, why don’t you pray?” Alone with The Misfit, the grandmother found that she had lost her voice. There was not a cloud in the sky nor any sun. There was nothing around her but woods. She wanted to tell him that he must pray. She opened and closed her mouth several times before anything came out. Finally, she found herself saying, “Jesus. Jesus,” meaning, Jesus will help you, but the way she was saying it, it sounded as if she might be cursing. “Jesus!” the old lady cried. “You’ve got good blood! I know you wouldn’t shoot a lady! I know you come from nice people! Pray! Jesus, you ought not to shoot a lady. I’ll give you all the money I’ve got!” For my third found poem I used the theme of reminiscing. Throughout the whole story the grandmother wants to go to Tennessee instead of Florida. She talks about all the memories she has of Tennessee on their drive to Florida. Reminiscing She wanted to visit some of her connections in east Tennessee and she was seizing at every chance to change Bailey's mind. "The children have been to Florida before," the old lady said. "You all ought to take them somewhere else for a change so they would see different parts of the world and be broad. They never have been to east Tennessee." She said she thought it was going to be a good day for driving, She pointed out interesting details of the scenery They passed a large cotton field with five or six graves fenced in the middle of it, like a small island. "Look at the graveyard!" the grandmother said, pointing it out. "That was the old family burying ground. That belonged to the plantation." They passed a large cotton field with five or six graves fenced in the middle of it, like a small island. "Look at the graveyard!" the grandmother said, pointing it out. "That was the old family burying ground. That belonged to the plantation." He and the grandmother discussed better times. Writing About Bullet in the Brain [Categories: Life Choice, Course Reading, Re-Genre]: Please complete the following:
Bullet in the Brian is a story about a book critic who seems to be angry at the world for its lack of creativity. He goes to a bank close to closing time. While waiting a teller closes her line and the women in front of Anders makes a snarky comment. Anders although mad about the line closing too seems to direct his anger at this woman. While making snarky comments back to the woman she begins to look over his shoulder in fear. He turns and behind him are two men with guns getting ready rob the bank. They tell everyone to be quiet but Anders cannot seem to keep his mouth shut and continues to comment on the robbers choose of cliques. One of the robbers steps to Anders and instructs him to be quiet. Anders begins to laugh in his face, and the robber shoots Anders in the head. Anders has a flashback while the bullet is going through his head. Re-Genre Analysis: Fatal Bank Robbery A bank in a small town was robbed at gunpoint today. A man in his sixties was fatally shot. It was near closing time when two men entered the front entrance taking the security guard hostage while entering the establishment. The robbers now identified as Marshal Smith, and Greg Johnson made off with about $5,000, but were later apprehended five miles away from the bank on their way out of town. The men both have extensive criminal backgrounds. We were able to get an interview with Lydia Murphy a woman who was inside the bank during the robbery. Murphy is a forty-year-old native of the town. She could not recall any major crimes like this one occurring in the town before. Although she was extremely shaken up Murphy managed to give us a recap of the events. She told us that the men came into the building wearing black ski masks and blue business suits. She almost did not notice them because she was in the middle of disagreement with Anders Williams. Anders Williams, the man who was fatally shot. The two men were holding the security guard with a gun to his head, they then went on to threaten the tellers saying “One of you tellers hits the alarm, you’re all dead meat. Got it?”. They handcuffed the guard and knocked him to the ground where he hit his head cutting it open. She began to sob at this point telling us how Williams the man who was fatally shot seemed to find the situation funny. She told us he began to laugh at and mock the robbers. Anders Williams, was a book critic in his sixties. According to Murphy he could not help himself but to laugh at the clichés Smith and Johnson were using. Murphy recalled Anders’s last words, fighting to hold the tears back she told us he was in conversation with Marshal Smith. Smith told Anders “F**k with me again, you’re history. Capiche?” At this Williams burst out laughing and responded with “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Caphice—Oh, God, caphice”. At this point Lydia could barely hold the tears back. She said after Williams last comment Smith was fed up so he raised his gun and shot Anders in his head. Lydia told us minutes before the shooting happened she looked at Anders with pleading eyes and asked him “Please be quiet”. But Anders rudely disregarded her pleads and continued to antagonize the robbers. Lydia distraught, with some of Williams blood still on her shirt from being just inches from Anders when he was shot remembers him muttering the words “They is” while he was falling to the floor. Murphy was not sure what these words meant but hoped his loved ones would have a connection to it. After getting in contact with and talking to Anders daughter she told us what these words could possibly mean to Anders. She paused thinking to herself to a little bit and then went on to tell the story her dad used to tell her as a little girl. When he was a little boy Anders and some neighborhood kid would always play baseball. One day one of the boys brought their cousin along. When the cousin was asked what position he wanted to play he said “Shortstop, Short’s the best position they is.” Anders became fascinated with that. He repeated “they is” over and over in his head. He believes this I where his love for language began and credits it for him becoming a book critic. Writing About Redeployment [Categories: Life Choice, Course Reading, Re-Genre]: Please complete the following:
In the story Redeployment we hear about Sgt. Price’s rough transition being home from deployment. He talks about how it is hard to relax. He is so use to having to scan his surroundings and constantly be looking over his shoulder. Even going to the mall something that seems so normal for us was hard for him. Re-Genre Analysis I am now going to write an alternate ending or an add on to this story describing why Sgt. Price shooting Vicar was the right thing for him. After the light was gone and I finally got my nerves calmed...or what was my new calm I began to focus on what to do with Vicar’s body. I went back to my truck and sat there in the cab for a little longer thinking about what to do. I remembered there was a shovel in the back from before I was deployed and grabbed it. I started to dig. I dug and dug and dug. Not really thinking or knowing when I was going to stop. I just lost track and kept going. Before I knew it I had a huge hole in front of me. I went over to where Vicar’s body laid lifeless and not all there. I picked him up and gently lowered him into the hole. I gave his back one last pat as a tear escaped from my eye. I buried Vicar there in the middle of the woods by the creek with the beautiful sunset. Once he was buried a sense of relief came over me. I knew things would never be how they were before and it would take a lot longer for me to get use to this new life but I knew I could do it. I sat there a little longer and then headed home to my wife. When I got home Cheryl was sitting on the couch watching TV. I stood in the doorway for a little and then walked over and sat with her. It was weird being able to sit and relax but it was nice. Putting Vicar down myself was hard and it brought me back to my deployment but it was what I had to do. It helped in the long run. Vicar’s Grave was now my place to come and collect my thoughts and to be with him. I visited often, pretty much every day. It was spot to go. Cheryl asked to come with me a couple of times but I could not bring myself to let her come. It was the one space I could go, think, let go of some of them emotions I have bottled up. It was my place to break down and although I wanted to I could not let her see me like that. |
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Erica O'Brien
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December 2017
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