Tuesday, July 31, 2007

morning writing exercise-writing from a smell

The Vase was of roughly hewn rock, with jagged ends, razor-sharp. Inside the Vase was a large bouquet of gaudy garden flowers, made for show, smelling of commercial success in some retailer across the country. It would have to be across the country—across the sea, more likely—because the Vase’s Owner lived, frugally, upon a remote atoll in the ocean. The Vase did not merit any collectors’ qualities. The Owner simply liked the rough and roguish charm of razor-sharp rock and its juxtaposition with the flowers.
It was daytime when the Owner set out to fish. The Owner, being an fisherman, did not like to fish. What soul who had engaged in forty-eight long years of fishing would like to? The Vase made for an excellent fish-catcher when attached to a rod of any wood. As for the flowers? They made an excellent garland on the sea—the Owner could get more from where they came from.
The Owner’s routine was always the same. He woke up, he fished, he ate, he cleaned the Vase, and he slept. It was always the same on the solitary island. His routine was broken on a Wednesday morning, however, when a dark, cloaked stranger approached the cave. He bore a letter in his hands, stamped with the seal of a far-off king. He wore a long, sharp knife at his belt. The Owner shivered.

Saturday, July 14, 2007

(Voledads is the imaginary country I created in school.)

[Set opens in VWTV (Voledads World Television) Studio. Bryant Ethers, the imperious anchor of "Nightly Newsflash" and co-host on "Meet the Media", walks in.]

Shuffles papers.

ETHERS: Welcome to VWTV Nightly Newsflash. Last week, we brought in some IRS, or Interal Reserach System, personnel, to speak with them about the developing story with computer crashes at Aeronautic and Space International Administration. The largest operating organization in space travel, ASIA was devastated by the computer crashes. Today we're speaking with Hester Crola, a representative and spokeswoman for the company that sells the operating system ASIA computers were working with, Ceiling XP. Welcome, Hester.

CROLA: Thank you, Bryant. We've done thorough tests of our operating system, Ceiling XP, which packages fine-tuned surveillance systems, high-speed operations, and automatic save programs embedded in all areas. We've also brought in some skilled technicians from such renowned companies like Gazillion.

ETHERS: For those of you who don't surf the internet on a regular basis, Gazillion is a highly popular search engine also sporting Gazillion Videos, Frazillion (a shopping area), and GBlogger. Anyways, back to the story. When will the investigations end?

CROLA: We don't want to set timetables, but we want a clear path for clear operations and we wish best of luck to ASIA.

ETHERS: Thanks, Hester. Hester Crola, representative and spokeswoman for Megasoft, creator of Ceiling XP.

CROLA: Thanks, Braynt. Good night.

ETHERS: An air of mystery still hangs over the ASIA computer breakdowns, and ASIA administrators are citing possible physical flaws in computers, the physical bodies of which are mainly manufactured by Natel. In a written statement, Natel "assures ASIA all computers are inspected and made for top standards," and "denies purposeful involvement in breakdowns." For more info on the ASIA breakdowns, go to our site at nightlynewsflash.net.vo. For our next story--how would you feel if a stranger replied to a Philippalist advert for a violin, saying that he'd like the violin-and he'll pay nine hundred grand? That--when we come back.

[Viole soap commercial.]

[Voledads provincial statement warning parents about new booster seat laws.]

[Tod-toys commercial.]

[Middle-school math commerical.]

[Rac sports shirts commercial.]

Theme music for Nightly Newflash comes back on.

Ethers shuffles papers.

ETHERS: Phillippalist, an increasingly popular website sporting lists of attic amusements, the occasional piece of furniture, the bed coverlet, vintage wine, even violins. From varieties like confectioner's darling "Honey-string Caramel" to the more serious Tiolan "Treiss" brand, one violin is special. We're talking with correspondent Ezekiel Baker to get the story on one big-bucks violin.

BAKER: It was a plain Elvernian day--the six-thirty shipments, the seven 'o clock, the newspapers delivered at ten o' clock sharp. Lisa Meyers, a single mother, is living out another day in the Elvernian apartment complex "Otto's Ivy." A working-class neighborhood, Otto's Ivy is plain; the concrete building is whitewashed. Balconies are luxurious, and the only adornment in the parking way is a fastidiously polished hybrid. Even this, Meyers says, doesn't belong to one the "apartners." It's the developer's car. Other than some pieces of furniture from dumps, garage sales, and bumped shipments, Room Number 55, Meyers' apartment number, is empty. Meyers works from her apartment; she can't afford daycare for her two kids. Meyers sells random items on Phillipalist, translates for international translating company Linguistics Line, does nights working at next-door factory Wells', and keeps track of money. One day while looking through a box left in the kitchen, Meyers finds an old violin. "I mean, I didn't think it was anything special," Meyers reflects. "It was a kind of dusty brown color, and there was no shoulder rest. It said "Citae" on the back." As it turns out, "Citae" is a now out-of-production violin, first produced in the seventeen hundreds. Meyers' violin was extremely rare--produced in the nineteen twenties, historian Robert Michel says it's amazing it stayed in such a good condition. Citae violins are renowned for extreme sound quality, and put up at prices up to a million dollars by collectors. Meyers is not a musician, so she put the violin up for sale on Phillippalist. "I didn't really think it would really bring in much money. I thought it was a fairly nice violin, and I polished it." The next day Meyers recieved a call from instruments collector Andre Vermont. "He said he'd pay nine hundred grand for it. I was amazed." Meyers immediately closed the deal. The nine hundred grand, put together with other savings, has allowed her to move out of the working-class neighborhood. "I'm really grateful to the violin," she says.
ETHERS: Thank you, Ezekiel. That's tonight's Nightly Newsflash. Thanks for listening. I'm Bryant Ethers. See you next week.

Thursday, July 12, 2007

[Typed up from journal]

We just went swimming. More off topic, here are my thoughts on Washington's education system:

Washington State needs higher standards. We are in the lower middle as standards go, meaning many of our students get an easy way out of learning.

We pay for technology yet we hardly ever use it. Some schools have plenty of desktop computers, etc., and yet there are no classes in Internet research skills, until maybe higher grades, by which time a lot of a kid's enthusiasm and flexibility is gone.

We should introduce history, art, and music to classes. Not just cutout art--learning shading, pastel, etc., from an artist, and learning art history. We should also have music history, not just singalongs.

Lastly, improve school food. The current cafeteria is an often unhygienic and dreaded place. Greasy pizza doesn't stimulate the brain as much as...whole wheat bread. Instead of French Fries, how about chickpeas?

JOURNAL [typed up]

Having sadly left this book to its own devices in the whitewashed bookshelf on the left side of my mother's office, I once again take gel pen in hand.

The world is faring oly mildly well. Oh yes, there are the occasional water balloon fights to lift our lethargic spirits, but other than fruit sorbets, blueberry pie, cookies and cream ice cream, and our guinea pigs (Sherlock and Minnie), it is, on the whole, unexciting. there is more al-Qaeda news on CNN. I do not mean to sound either unpatriotic or uninterested but I do admit I wish there was more of a nuance of news. From...Luxembourg, for example. Us United States people are so arrogant in what we report. As a resident of small town Redmond, I might also add most news channels--even sometimes local Seattle ones--do not condescend to even give us weather on their forecasts, much less check how we're doing.

It must be admitted Redmond does not provide very meritable stories. We seem to have uilt the media upon murder, fraud, and other "hard" news, and pleasant suburbia sacrifices fame because of it.

Monday, July 09, 2007

A Frequently Asked Question

A question I'm frequently asked about is where to get a publisher. Publishers are many and close between, but an exceptional one I've noticed lately is called LaunchPad, at www.launchpadmag.com. It's a magazine devoted to starting kids off in creating writing and drawing. They're receiving contributions from kids six to twelve. I'd suggest LaunchPad to all kids.

A Summary of Our Life

I must admit, ninety-five is the highest heat I have suffered. As it happens, that was only a few weeks ago in Atlanta (where I appeared on CNN.) It was a program called "Young People Who Rock". We do not have a proper air conditioner anywhere, just a dusty fan in my mom's office that stirs up such a conflagration of noise that its disruption of the heat inferno is more of a disruption to us. Speaking of conflagrations, have you heard the havoc being wreaked by the merciless wildfires? There is one raging in Washington currently, although I don't think it's anywhere near us. Today our monotonous lifestyle grabbed hold of us yet again. We rise at promptly eight-something and proceed to the breakfast table, and this routine is repeated throughout the all-too-hot summer days. We went swimming today. I am able to jump off the diving board, hold my breath for about ten seconds, backfloat, and swim in the deep end.

Saturday, July 07, 2007

Women in the Civil War (Class)

To see more of our class activities, go to http://www.seedsoflearning.blogspot.com/
The Civil War expanded women’s responsibilities within the traditional sphere of home and family. Women were forced to manage estates in husbands’ absences, sew bandages and clothes, and nurse soldiers. Even the whitest hands did not hesitate to write to revered friends, brothers, fathers, and cousins fighting in the battle. Women helped raise important funds for troops. Rising prices, invading soldiers, and food shortages did not daunt these women; so remember the ladies.
Many women managed—and protected—property in their husbands’ absences. Women often hid valuables and livestock from the all-too-eager hands of invading soldiers. Mrs. Burge, the wife of a plantation owner, wrote in her diary, “We were just rising from breakfast when Ben Glass rode up with the cry: ‘the Yankees are coming, Mrs. Burge, hide your mules!” Another quote from Mrs. Burge’s diary reads: “The report is that the Yankees have left Covington for Macon, headed by Stoneman, to release prisoners held there. They robbed every house of its provisions, sometimes taking every piece of meat, blankets, and wearing apparel”. Women such as Burge hid valuables, livestock, and even resting Confederate guests.
Women became farming and financial gurus, managing budgets and sometimes working alongside slaves in the fields. Despite the fact many women were “not cut out” for physical work, farming became a “necessary evil” for many. A distasteful chore became a patriotic duty. Financial wisdom became an essential part of surviving in a world where coffee beans could sell for seventy dollars per pound.
Even the belles of the ball did not shirk writing. One of the few activities considered “ladylike” before and during the Civil War, writing was not only a rest from the grueling activities of wartime, but a gossip page and a vehicle of emotions. Letters were a major part of every war-family’s life, sending and receiving. Louisa May Alcott portrayed this in Little Women, making “the letter from Father” (a “chaplain” in the army) a major part of the sisters’ lives. Many soldiers looked at writing letters as ways to get news. “It is with the utmost diffidence that I commence a letter to you so soon after forming your acquaintance without first having asked your permission. But Chum is in Page and I have no correspondent in Augusta to give me news from you.” Clinton Hatcher, the author of the letter, was later killed in battle. Letter-writing was a service to the soldiers, a way to share news of home and keep up morale.
Some women aided soldiers by becoming nurses. Many hospitals at the time of the Civil War were makeshift and unsanitary, making life an unlikely draw in many cases. Mary Ann Bickerdyke, Louisa May Alcott, Clara Barton, and Dorothea Dix were some of the most important nurses at the time of the Civil War. Nursing was not only limited to the battlefield. The following quote from the Staunton Spectator, a community newspaper in Virginia’s Augusta County, illustrates this. “We have been requested by the ladies of Staunton to meet this Tuesday evening at five o’ clock in the basement story of the Lutheran church, for the purpose of adopting ways and means to provide for the relief and comfort of the soldiers.” At home, bedsheets, pillowcases, and rags were mercilessly snipped and sewn for bandages and clothes for soldiers.
Raising money for soldiers was an important activity for women. Raising money for soldiers replaced donations that had once been given to temperance societies, charitable work, church bazaars, and other social events. The Republican Vindicator noted this about women raising money for the troops-“They immediately, in obedience to their instinct of fervent patriotism, resolve to raise all the money they can.”
The war made life anything but glorious. Prices could skyrocket overnight. Houses could be ransacked by soldiers, leaving occupants homeless and hungry. Trade routes and roads were often cut off by soldiers, making transporting goods difficult. Many doubted the stability of Confederate dollars; in the Union, the secretary of the treasury introduced paper money not backed by gold. Luxurious clothing was a doubtful idea. High-class women could be plunged into jobs they had almost no experience in. Neighbors could be kidnapped while girls sewed bandages in the assumed safety of home. Despite the troubles of Civil War life, women persisted and proved that they were anything but second-class citizens.

An Entry From My Blurty Blog

We went to Europe in September-October (five weeks) in 2006.

To any ladies and gentlemen out there who have been to Europe and knows what it feels like to get jetlagged, and also those who have not entered that beautiful continent and eaten French crepes and chocolate buns and Italian gelato and pizza, here is another oh-so-tragic--and at times, if you really think so, oh-so-comic-- tale about my unfortunate--and more fortunate-- experiences in and out of Europe. HEATHROW AIRPORT"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times" as I stepped off from our enormous international plane, still feeling slightly queasy from our rather rough landing. I was of course, relieved to be in England after a tiresome day watching T.V. reruns on waxy earphones, attempting to wake up a snoring sister so I could play Twenty Questions, sleeping, waking up to go to the bathroom, coming back, and sleeping again, but I could not say I was feeling my best in that airport either. It was hot, humid, and sweaty, and the smells of bad perfume, sweat, and thousands of unwashed people (including myself, I might add) were all mixed together in one long line at Immigration and Customs that seemed to twist on and on and on for eternity. It took us about one hour or more to finally reach the end of the line, and by that time there were thousands of other poor saps in the back who were looking at us enviously. Once we had had our passports stamped and all the special things were done, we idly walked around a little bit pretending to be doing things until we finally came to our senses and went outside to wait for a taxi. There were quite a few other people there and there was some conversation but for the most part we sat huddled together, sometimes crouching or squatting, other times standing or pacing around, waiting and waiting and waiting. I was rather surprised when three large black cars drove up. I was used to the Yellow Cab taxis of America but realized these were taxis--England style! Those were followed by a few others, not all solemn black, one a glorious, majestic, shining red, a few with ads painted on their doors. One was a gorgeous dark purple, but, alas! again, we had to wait. Finally we caught a taxi--black--to our hotel, the Sheraton--and here we will begin a new chapter, telling the tale of that pleasant place, and all our adventures in it. THE SHERATON HOTELThe Sheraton Hotel was a very glamorous-seeming hotel, with a shiny floor and a well-lit lobby and an enormous reception desk in the front. Our room was not the best of rooms in all of my experiences but it was still quite spacious and nice. There were two large beds with fresh sheets perfectly lain out and striped blue coverlets, and we were provided with a lovely bathroom and a table, on which we ate a meager dinner of snacks we had saved from the plane and some free snacks provided by the hotel. It was a great hotel but a measly dinner. We spent one night there, and in the morning we went to the apartment our mom had rented, even better than the hotel. Unfortunately, something would go wrong that day. Very, very, very wrong.

To see more entries on my other blog, go to http://blurty.com/users/weaselofdoom

Thanksgiving is a pretty boring holiday by a lot of people's standards. Almost every American schoolkid knows the origins of Thanksgiving--a bunch of pilgrims came over on a ship, called the Mayflower, came to the New World (U.S.), starved, and were eventually rescued by the Native Americans. There was a feast, some Native American chief brought ninety or so men, and killed five deer, etc. That is the story of Thanksgiving, summarized version. Unfortunately, Thanksgiving seems to be an All-American holiday. Okay, it has roots in the mistreatment and persecution of the pilgrims in England. But it's not creepily ancient like Halloween, with origins steeped in the magical mystery of druids and etc. The one great thing about Thanksgiving is the food. I am not remotely ashamed to say this but the only thing I was pretty much thankful for on Halloween--no excuse me, the only thing I was conciously thankful for--was the great food. I'm always thankful for the fact I have a laptop computer, the fact I don't have to go to a horrifically boring regular school and do banal cut-out construction paper excercises, but I don't think about things like this all the time. My--no, our--Thanksgiving was quite the event of the month. My dad wore himself out marinating duck, mashing garlic, cooking cranky cranberries with a bunch of the rest of the fruit shoved up into our freezer, mashing sweet potatoes, cooking rice (actually my sister did that), making shrimp salad, cooking salmon, making eggs-in-tea (a Chinese delicacy, which, in my opinion, makes the outside of the egg taste bitter and horrible)...We also baked a bunch of mini-quiches, bought in bulk from Costco. I am addicted to these quiches and I can devour around twelve at a time--on Thanksgiving I ate around six. This filled up a great deal of my already bulging stomach and I had to force myself to eat rice, shrimp, sweet potato, and the delicious cold cranberry sauce. For dessert we had pumpkin pie, rhubarb and strawberry pie, and apple crisp pie, as well as French Vanilla Dreyer's Ice cream. I ate some more later. We also played the game Cranium. I was the captain of the losing team--my sister was the captain of the winning team. They were two spaces ahead of us and, since our Cranium was a turbo edition, acquired one or two more cards than us, before us. And even if I didn't eat very much, there was always leftovers.

Redmond Derby Days

This Saturday we went to the Redmond Derby Days. The Derby Days are Redmond's annual festival, featuring the Redmond Medical Center Kids' Parade, the Venture Bank Grand Parade, the Microsoft Entertainment Stage, the Bicycle Criterium, free kids' activities, food, beer, and wine garden, Funtastic Carnival, and Fireworks Finale at 10 PM. Not to mention free promotional giveaways, etc. Promotional giveaways included: stickers, temporary tattoos, frisbees, pens, magnets, post-its, pens, bookmarks, magnetic clips, stuffed animals, candy (Starbursts, saltwater taffy, Three Musketeers), free swim passes, pins, and American flags. Each kid on wheels wearing their helmets in the Kids' Parade also got two dollars (in golden John Adams coins) from City of Redmond. The Kids' Parade was rather sluggish. Being our first time participating, we arrived bright and early at 9:15 at the Redmond Medical Center to sign up. We were all in "Anything Goes" group. We waited around with a gaggle of noisy kids until the parade began at ten 'o clock. Other groups included: Love our Earth, Redmond's Birthday, Freewheelers, Furry Friends, etc. I would have liked to be in Love Our Earth but I was unable to think of a suitably environmentally friendly decoration (what, drag the family's recycling bin on the back of my wheel?). I went for the "Country Milkmaid" look--I wore a sleeveless pink corduroy dress over a white tank, purple-and-black striped stockings, white sandals, and a purple satin ribbon around my neck. It is a sizzling seventy-something degrees, a smokehouse for us poor Redmonders, used to the drear of constant rain and eternal fog. Not to mention it seems like the entire population has been uprooted and dragged to Derby Days, so with the dust, heated food, people, bouncy houses and slides, it felt like an oven, pardon the cliche. In any case, I shall depart to risk the outer flames.

Romance Novels

In response to one of my reader’s questions, I believe romance novels are boring and artificial. Although I can’t say I have read many real “romance novels” (even in the depths of lethargy), the tedious, clichéd, unrealistic romance demonstrated in the few I have read have been deplorable.
Romance novels are tedious. The Miss Whatever and Mr. Whatever are involved in a heart-wrenching separation and finally find love…who wants to read about fifty-five pages detailing the melodramatic sobbing of the Whatevers, to find that abruptly, miraculously, the conformist characters are reunited again? It is, in the least, a waste of time.
Romance novels are clichéd. The Miss Whatever and Mr. Whatever are always the same under-developed characters. They are fluorescent lights compared to flora and fauna. Miss Whatever will be the weak, beautiful woman, and Mr. Whatever will be the strong, macho guy. At the end, they will ride off into the sunset or hold hands on the honeymoon balcony.
Do we expect to see an average, TV-watching, fast-food eating, couch-lounging teenager or adult fall desperately in love for the first time, face a heart-wrenching separation, and finally have a happy ever after? Romance novels are unrealistic. First, most people think they’re desperately in love, and find someone else to think they’re desperately in love with after the first person is gone. Eternal fidelity is rare, since most “desperate loves” are crushes. Furthermore, the “ride off into the sunset” after the honeymoon is going to end up a “blight on the rest of your life” because you’re in debt after spending so much on the expensive honeymoon suite.
Romance novels are unrealistic, tedious, clichéd, and deplorable. They only mask our vision of the real world, increase our lethargy like saltwater to thirst, and bring us the fast food of the literary world.