3/19/15 Fiction Portfolio Summary

          I have come to find that, in writing fiction, I can incorporate much more of myself
into my writing. This week, I wanted to talk about my writing process in creating a fiction
portfolio, and what I learned in my writing process.
          Obviously I can draw from personal experience when doing any type of
writing, however; I find that there are certain views or events that you can put into a
fiction writing that would seem out of place in poetry or be deemed laughable if put in a
non­fiction piece. Fiction leaves room for fantasy and with that, you open your mind up
to see things from a different perspective. How can I make this more fun? How can I
add a bit of magic to my writing? Do I want this character to be like me, or do I want to
make up all of his characteristics? These were a few of the things that I found myself
thinking of when doing these fiction assignments.
          Another thing that I learned, which was most helpful, was that I should never be
afraid to share my work with someone else. Feedback is essential to creating a
masterful writing. Writing from a single point of view is very one-­sided, where another
perspective can give insight into what a broader spectrum of readers will enjoy. I tried to
take the feedback that I was given and write new sections and add new details that I
thought would appeal to more people, rather than just myself. Even if I get negative
feedback, which is bound to make me feel less than spectacular, I know that I can take
that and add more to my writing, ultimately making it better. 
          Part of my writing process included finding a starting point. This could be anything
from a character, to a setting, to some event that happened. After that, I would decide if I
wanted this to be realistic or just kind of fun a silly. I am not much a fan of the fantasy,
but just knowing that I had the option led my mind to wander to places it usually would
not have and I was able to add more detail and fun into my writing. After that I would just
start writing. I would pause occasionally to reread what I had so far and decide if I was
going in the right direction. If not, I would consider revising. If so, I would simply continue
to write. I noticed that I incorporated music into my fiction quite often. Putting something
that I personally love into my writing gives it a little bit extra personality and helps me
connect to it on a higher level.
          The last thing that I learned was that the first draft is rarely perfect. Sometimes I
want to write and not revise. This is a bad idea because I found myself missing words
and spelling. In addition to spelling and grammar errors, I also found places where more
detail could fit, or where I seemed to run on a bit. In the end, the revision took a lot of
extra time, but it bettered my writing, and it was worth the extra time spent. To sum things up, I learned to look at things from a new perspective, consider
others point of views, openly share my writings, and always check for errors. Overall,
the fiction writing was very enjoyable.

Blog update (03/05/15)

          Hello again! This week I chose to write about the fiction story that we discussed for a bit in class, and tell a little about what I took from it, and why I chose to write about it. The story that we read was called "The Falling Girl". This story was about a girl who apparently fell from her roof top, whether voluntarily or not, I cannot say for sure, thought the connotation surely suggests the former. Upon falling, this girl seems to take in her surroundings and notice all of the people, places, buildings, and scenery that fill her view. The colors that are attributed to her clothing and surroundings are described as "glowing" or "bright", and, as I understand it, many people who decide to take their own lives develop a sort of peace-of-mind about their decision. Perhaps this is paying homage to that? The beauty in the colors might reflect the beauty that she finds in death. But this is just one possibility.
          On her way down, she passes many people who are of higher status, socio-economic class, and wealth than she is. These people seem to absentmindedly shrug off the fact that she is falling, almost as if it is something they see often. It is as if they could care less that this girl is falling from a building and will soon hit the ground in what will surely be a bloody mess. Alas, they seem to be almost eager for that end to come. The connotation suggests that these people take pleasure in watching the less fortunate fall, literally or figuratively. On the flip side, it seems that this falling girl revels in the thought of these rich people falling as well. This is all strictly speculation based off of my own assumption that the "falling" in and of itself if a negative thing, almost in relation to death.
          Another thing that I noticed was a certain guilt that seemed to arise within the falling girl. At one point, she passes a bystander who asks "where are you going?", and to this she replies simply "please do not make me say...". To me, this also suggests a hint of suicidal imagery. The girl has jumped from her building and feels guilt over the thought of the people she may have hurt in doing so, or the thought that she has given up on her life. Of course, these are strictly guesses.
          This is a story of fiction, so I have to take into consideration that this girl is simply a magical being who can more or less fly, and that is my she has the time and ability to speak to all of these by standers as she falls. She seems it take in so much around her as she falls, where I would think one would have nothing but the thought of the hard cement below them on their mind. Still, she seems to remain calm, almost contemplative. It is as if she uses this time to reflect on her true thought about her life and the lives of those around her. Do these people care if she is falling? Would they join her? At one point there is another girl falling, and time seems to change as this girl falls at a different rate of speed than her. This seems to reflect how quickly some lives can move in comparison to others, and how different the paths of ones lives can be.
          My final thoughts upon reading this story were about myself, and what I would think of if I were falling through the air. Would I find time to think of where my life has gone? Would I judge others for what they have done, or be bitter that they took pleasure in my downfall? Why would I be falling in the first place? These are all of the things that I took from this story, and these are the reasons that I was drawn to this story.

Blog update (03/12/15)

          Hello! This week I have chosen to write about the story we discussed I class called "Night Women". The basis of this story revolves around a single woman, raising a child, and partaking in certain "late night activities" with her clientele I order to make a living. Right at the start, the story begins talking about how much this woman loves her child. Throughout the story we see her taking precautions in order to prevent him from finding out that she is actually a call-girl, of sorts. If the boy does wake up, (as she and him sleep I the same room due to financial difficulties and limited living space) she would tell him that it was her father who came back to visit but will soon be going away again.
          The men, whom she calls her "suitors" are not strangers. She seems to know details about them such as that they are doctors, or if they are married. At least she is not exposing her child to a potentially dangerous situation, so that is good. However, some of these men are married, and that seems to go against the norms and values that we, in America, hold dear. One would think that she would feel guilt, and from certain passages in the text, I think that she might. One line reads "I could see the faces of their wives I the beads of sweat that dripped down their foreheads..." and to me, this implies that she sees the wives' faces out of guilt for sleeping with the husbands.
          Other parts of the text refer to times when these men would bring the child gifts, such as sound machines that would block the noise of the adult-themed events that were transpiring just a few feet from him. The mother kept a sheet up between their living spaces, so as not to allow the child to know what she is doing. Do these men bring gifts purely so the child does not know what they are doing, or do they start to actually view him as a child-figure?
          One other subject of my contemplation was whether or not this mother could find alternate means of income. Sure, she may make adequate income performing sex acts on rich men, but could she find a more appropriate, non-degrading job that would make her son proud? One passage explains that she does not envy those women that have to sew for hours, and then undo what they have created so as to create more hours of work for themselves. She finds this to be a waste of time. For her, the shame of having to lower herself to prostitution, essentially, is better than spending hours doing tedious hard-labor just to barely scrape by. It is almost as if she has accepted her social role and her status as it has developed and lives her life the only way she knows now. She does understand that she cannot lie to her child forever, but, for now at least, things seem to be working.
          The author is from the country of Haiti, where, I understand, this sort of thing is common. Perhaps this is a political statement meant to show the degradation that women go through just to make it through the day for their families. Perhaps it is a personal experience story, or the story of a friend of the author. My personal thoughts, to end my post, are that there are always better ways of helping your family than selling your body, but at the end of the day, you do what you must to get by. It is a sad but harsh truth.