Journal # 7 "The Myth of Technology"

"The Myth of Technology"

In the 1950's, futurists predicted that the invention of labour saving machines such as the household dishwasher and robots in factories meant that the common worker would enjoy a 3 day work week. Ironically, improvements in technology have led to the disappearance of better paying, skilled work and people working harder than ever before. What is your opinion? How much does technology improve your life and the lives of people in general?

Journal # 6 An Influential Person

An Influential Person

Write about a person or people you look up to or have learned from. These could be people who have become famous historically, celebreties or even people you know or are related to. You might admire their accomplishments, their personality traits or their values. How did you learn about this person? What makes him or her remarkable? How does knowing about this person impact who you are as an individual?

Journal # 5 Childhood

The concept of childhood as we understand it is a product of 19th Century Victorian ideals. Prior to that time, there was no general sense that there was any particular need to shelter children from the unpleasant side of life. Children were put to work as soon as they were able.

Almost two hundred years later, we have a sense that children should be almost entirely sheltered until they reach sufficient age. In our society, full adulthood is often delayed until individuals are well into their twenties.

What is your take? Do we overprotect our children? Feel free to reminisce about your own childhood and to speculate about the kind of parent you think you will be based on your convictions.

Arpita's Radio Plays

Radio Play 1 "Ah, Nessy"

Characters:
-Fay
-Ananda
-Pony
-Nia

(splashing sounds, people talking, footsteps on a dock)
Ananda: You're a beautiful woman. You don't have to worry so much. Just take your clothes off and jump in. Nobody cares.
Fay: I can 'know' that all day and it won't make a bit of difference. I'm insecure. The yoga book on marriage says that the biggest weakness of Woman is her insecurities. So, I'm embracing them. I won't skinny dip.
Pony: (laughs) Come on, everyone wants to see you! (laughs again)
Fay: Ha! That's the problem! If everyone would turn around, I'd be fine.
Ananda: Well, no one knows you here, so it doesn't matter.
Fay: I'm not wearing my contacts, so I'll have to trust you on that one. If Pony turns around, I could do it really quick.
Pony: (laughs) Fine, see ya in the water. (footsteps on the dock, then a splash as he jumps in)
Ananda: Okay, Fay, I'll race you.
(sounds of clothing rustling and falling on the ground, footsteps, two splashes)
Fay: (breathless, treading water) I did it! I did it! (a pause) Some of those guys along the dock looked familiar.
Ananda: Yeah, I think they're here for the Retreat.
Fay: So we know them?? I think I've worked with some of them before! They were looking us up and down like crazy!
Ananda: Oh well, like I said, you're beautiful! (laughs) It doesn't matter, come on, let's swim.
(swimming sounds)
Fay: Hi Nia! I didn't see you out here!
Nia: Hey, Fay, yeah, I'm chillin'. Sonaton just showed me a great synchronized swimming move. Do you two wanna guess what it is? (splashing sounds and faint grunting)
Ananda: ...Nessy? Is it Nessy from Loch Ness?
(hysterical laughter from Nia and Fay, then Ananda. Hysterical laughter continues for a long time then gradually starts to die down)
Nia: (gasping) Ha... ha... wow, what a good laugh. It's not Nessy --
(hysterical laughter starts again and continues)
Nia: (gasping) ... It's... a duck!
Fay: A wounded duck!
(hysterical laughter)
Pony: (yelling from the dock) You people are crazy! What's so funny?
Ananda: Does it matter? (gurgles on last word because her mouth goes underwater)
(hysterical laughter)
Fay: We're laughing about Nessy! I think...
(laughing)
Nia: What a great night! (laughs) This is what life is all about.

Radio Play 2 "Manifesting a Ride"

Characters:
Fay
Poni
Ananda
Driver

Ananda: That was a great hike, eh?
Fay: yeah, I feel full of sunshine.
Poni: You're sunburnt! (laughs)
Fay: well, I also feel sunny on the inside. It's so nice to be with nature, to walk through ferns, climb rocks, gaze at a beautiful ocean view, doze under trees... I feel replenished.
Ananda: God's Creation is perfect. It's up to us to realize that.
(pause, then a sigh from Fay) (sounds of their footsteps on a gravel road)
Poni: What time is it?
Ananda: 5:20.
Poni: I hope a car comes soon. Dinner is at 6:15.
Ananda: It's God's Will.
Fay: But we are God. Let's manifest a ride.
(sounds of their footsteps on the gravel road)
Poni: Still no ride. (laughs) what time is it now?
Ananda: 5:50.
Fay: Come on, manifest harder!
(laughter)
Poni: We're gonna be late. The food will be gone by the time we get there. And it's getting dark, not to be a downer or anything. (laughs)
Ananda: It won't get cold though. It's summer.
Fay: And we have water. We'll be fine.
Poni: Okay (as if shrugging shoulders), live in the moment.
(sounds of footsteps on gravel, crickets, sweet breeze)
Fay: that breeze smelled like mint.
Ananda: It's beautiful out.
Fay: There are Fairies everywhere. I can feel it.
Poni: We should sing to them. (laughs)
(They start singing a Sanskrit song: Om jai shri Ganesh, shri Ganesha Jaia... singing goes into background with crickets and gravel. They start walking to the beat of the music. Laughter.)
Fay: Look, a car!
Poni: Put out your thumbs! He'll stop for some pretty girls.
(laughter) (sound of car coming to a stop on a gravel road. Car door opens.)
Driver: Hi, where're you headed?
Poni: Salt Spring Centre of Yoga, or you could drop us at Blackburn Road.
Driver: Sounds good to me. Hop in.
(sounds of people getting into the car, door closing, car driving off.)
Driver: So what are you three up to on this fine evening?
Ananda: We finished a hike, and now we're on our way back for dinner.
Poni: What time is it?
Fay: (whispering) Time for you to get a watch. (laughs)
Ananda: It's 6:14.
Poni: Oh well, missed dinner.
Driver: Don't worry about it! I just got back from the lake. I have some fresh fish. You can join me and my wife for dinner if you want.
Poni: Wow, that would be great!
Ananda: God provides!
Fay: I guess manifesting things can only get us so far. The will of the Universe wins, and it'll always be exactly what's supposed to happen.
Poni: We're just along for the ride.

Radio Play

Wally: "Come on, come on... Pick up, pick up..."

Emily: "Hello?"

Wally: "Hi... Emily? It's Wally. How're you?"

Emily: "Oh. Hi Wally. I'm fine."

Wally: "I don't really know why I'm calling, but I just, sometimes I text you and you- you don't reply. I just, I miss you... You know I do. And I've been thinking, about you- I've been thinking..."

Emily: "Wally I'm getting married in a month- you know you can't be calling me. You know we shouldn't be talking."

Wally: "But when we do text, your responses are so short, they are barely replys..."

Emily: "What do you want?"

Wally: "I want to talk to you Em."

Emily: "Then talk, but this is the last time."

Wally: "What if you're making a mistake, what if he's not the one?"

Emily: "You called, just to talk me out of marrying Cole?"

Wally: "No... Yes. No. No, I called to talk. Ugh, I've been thinking- what if he is your one person, but you're mine. What do I do then? What about... remember that time we talked for hours-when we went to the cottage, under the stars?

Emily: "Yes... Why?"

Wally: "What if you really are my inspiration for my art, what if you're the only reason I paint, and draw... What if, once you marry him. Cole. I can't seem to paint anymore, and than what do I do... My art is all I have, you know that.

Emily: "Stop, you are much more than just an artist. You select one part of yourself, one piece of the puzzel and you hold onto it. You need to stop doing that, that is one of the reasons I had to leave. You never look at the whole picture, just the frayed and burnt corner and you whole-heartedly believe that, that insignificant edge is everything. Perhaps the reason you haven't been inspired is because you have taken the artist in you, and made it everything you are- and you have held it so tightly in your hand, and squeezed and squeezed until it's turned to ash. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

Wally: "You always were so poetic. But what else am I, besides an artist?"

Emily: "Seriously? You are an amazing artist yes. But you're funny, and so sweet, romantic too. You have the potential to be such an incredible boyfriend, and eventually a husband."

Wally: "Do you miss it? Do you miss us."

Emily: "I can't answer that, I'm getting married Wally."

Wally: "Please... Just, answer."

Emily: "Parts. I miss parts of it. But that's as much as I can say. It's not fair to Cole. You know it.'

Wally: "Do you really think I care about what is fair to Cole?"

Emily: "Don't be rude."

Wally: "Emily... Emily, I love you and you're making a mistake."

Emily: "Goodbye Wally, please don't call me again."

Wally: "No, don't go. Will you just stay and talk to me... Don't."

Emily: "I can't stay. I'm sorry."

Wally: "I love you Emily, I lo-"

Operator: "Please hang up, and try your call again. Please hang up. Please hang up, and try your call again. Please hang up. Please hang up, and try your call again. Please hang up..."

Sample Radio Play

Glimmers, A One Act Radio Play, by Kiana Kidd

[Enter an elderly woman, about 70, in an abandoned movie set. The woman is visibly unsettled. Props are strewn throughout the room. It’s about ten at night.]

Helen: Oh my. Will you look at the mess of the place? In all my years, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a place in disarray quite as bad as this. I nearly killed myself tripping over that cable back there. Drat, where are the lights?
Ahhh, there they are. Much better. Well, the good news is I can see. But the bad news is, now I can clearly see just how messy this place is! Where is that old Alfred now? He’d have a fit if he saw the place like this. Over by that busted window is an overturned table, over by that escape door are about fifty cables, and the rest of the room is covered in ash from the fire of ‘57. Could you imagine if Alfie saw this mess? He’d surely have a heart attack! Ha ha ha.
Ooh yes, will you look at that. I almost looked right over my favourite prop of all, that big lounge sofa. Other than a bit of smoke damage, the fabric is still in pretty decent condition. The memories I made just on this sofa alone could last one a lifetime. I remember when I was still working as an understudy, I would come into the studio after hours, and pretend I was Judy Garland. I would pretend to boss people about, and lounge in this sofa, sometimes even falling asleep in the chair. Then there was my big break. In one scene, I was to lie asleep on the sofa, and wait for my leading man, Johnny Fairchild, to come in and kiss me. Not many people know this, but he was my first kiss! He wasn’t very good at it as he didn’t have much experience, he was rather new on the acting scene. But he had piercing blue eyes, a full head of jet black hair, and a Scottish accent! Oh I was the envy of all my girlfriends. Oh my, I do believe I’m getting quite flushed! Is it warm in here, or is it just me?
(Chuckles) Well, I suppose that’s a rather silly question. The heat hasn’t been turned back on since that fire. When I think about it, I’m really acting quite foolish. Hell, I don’t even know why I’m here. It’s not as if there’s someone here to talk to, for the past few minutes I’ve been talking to myself! And the place is a complete wreck. As strange as this might sound, as horrible as the place looks, it’s peaceful. I feel completely safe here! It feels like home. I’ve always preferred coming here after dark. It reminds me when I used to come here to meet my Frankie. While I was studying, he would offer to help me. Poor lad couldn’t read a word though, so I taught him. He swears he just wanted to help, but I was wise to him. He would use our study sessions to flirt with me, and every day he would ask me to go steady, but I would always say no. Then I remember he had that accident when he apprenticed as an electrician, the poor boy was electrocuted! It nearly killed him too. It was when he was being rushed off to the hospital that I realized just how strong my feelings for him were.
(Sigh) Maybe it’s the smoke smell or I’m just getting old, but I feel utterly exhausted all of a sudden. Perhaps I’ll just rest a moment here on this sofa.
[Falls asleep on the sofa. An hour passes by.]
[Rustling comes from outside, awakening the sleeping woman. She awakes with a start.]
Frank: (Grunts) Hello? Anyone in there?
Helen: H-hello? Who’s there! I have pepper spray!
Frank: Oh thank heavens it’s you!
Helen: What on earth are you talking about! Who are you! I don’t know you. Get away from me!
Frank: Baby, it’s me! Your Frankie! Don’t you remember?
Helen: I have pepper spray! Back away!
Frank: Listen, I’m Frank. You’re Helen. We’ve been married for forty years. We have four kids. This is where you used to act, and I would do the wiring. I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to take you home. You went out for a walk about an hour and a half ago to get some bread, but never came home, so I came looking for you.
Helen: Help! Help me! Somebody! You get away from me you . . . I don’t know how you know me, but I certainly don’t know you! I’m not going anywhere!
Frank: Relax, there’s no one living down this end of town, no one’s gonna hear you!
Helen: Is that supposed to relax me?!
Frank: Hang on a sec. . . (dials 911 from his cell phone) . . . yes the old movie lot. Yes I’m aware it’s abandoned!. . . I don’t care if it’s trespassing. . . I have no idea why she’s here again. Can you just come get us?. . . be gentle, she has Alzheimer’s. No. No, she’s having another episode. She’s panicking. . . Obviously she doesn’t remember me!. . . just get here as soon as you can, ok?
(Under his breath). . .fine, I’ll humour her until you get here. Hurry! (Click)
Helen: You called the cops on ME? Just wait til they get here, and I tell them how you tried to frighten me! They’ll take you away!
Frank: Somehow I doubt that!
Helen: Frank you needn’t be snippy with me! We both know how excitable you are. Remember what Dr. Murphy said, keep your temper under control, because your blood pressure is all out of whack! What are you doing here anyway? DID YOU FOLLOW ME HERE?! You don’t trust me do you! You thought I was having an affair or something, so you came to try to catch me in the act! Well sorry to disappoint you, mister "I Don’t Trust My Wife".
Frank: Amazing. Baby, you never fail to amaze me.
Helen: What on earth is that supposed to mean!
[Sirens getting closer]
Frank: Oh, its nothing hun. Come on, let’s get out of here, before the whole place collapses.
Officer: Is everything alright here, sir?
Frank: Yes sir, officer. My wife and I are just out for a walk on this fine autumn evening.
Officer: Ma’am, you’re alright?
Helen: Yes, doesn’t it look like I’m alright?
Officer: Well, you are covered in ashes.
Helen: Oh, will you look at that! I am too. How on earth did that happen? Alfie just finished cleaning the place inside. My mother is going to have a fit trying to wash this out!
Frank: Now, now dear, I’m sure your mother will be fine.
Helen: Oh, I’m just a right mess tonight. I’ve forgotten my purse inside! Wait right there while I go fetch it?
Frank: Of course, dear.
Officer: (When Helen is inside) Dad, you really can’t keep doing this. This is the third night this week I’ve had to come out here because of mom. I realize I’m a cop and everything, but I can’t keep covering for these trespassing charges. I can only look the other way so many times before my reputation is called into question. She’s getting worse. Hell, grandma’s been dead for fifteen years!
Frank: I know son, I know. But I couldn’t dare to lock your mother up somewhere like an animal! She just has so many memories in this place, I couldn’t live with myself if I kept herself away from it.
Officer: What are you gonna do when she can’t remember anything anymore?
Frank: All I can do is love her, and pray for a miracle.
Officer: It just isn’t fair. There should be a cure for it.
Frank: Believe me, if there was a cure, I’d be first in line to get it for her. Thank you so much for coming out here. You don’t know how much I appreciate it.
Officer: You’re just lucky I’ve been on the night shift this week, otherwise you’d have quite a few fines to pay.
Helen: Ah here it is! I got it! Silly me! You see, officer, I’m always forgetting something! My mother always tells me I’d forget my head if it wasn’t attached! Ha ha ha! Say, you look awful familiar officer! Haven’t we ever met before?
Officer: No ma’am, I don’t believe we have.
Helen: Oh, fancy that. I’m almost certain we have. Oh well, are you ready to go honey?
Frank: I’m ready when you are. Is that all officer?
Officer: Yeah, I think we covered everything. Do you two need a ride home?
Frank: Oh that’s alright, I’m sure we can manage getting home. Thanks again for coming out here son. I appreciate it.
Officer: It’s just a part of the job. Have a safe night, folks.
Both: You too! Have a good one.
Helen: What a nice young boy. His parents must be so proud.
Frank: I don’t even think proud begins to cover it.
[end]

Mat's Character Exercise

Have a look at Mat's exercise and let him know what you think.

CLICK HERE.

Wally vs Inna

The elevator didn't come fast enough for Wally, and before the door could even open- someone else had walked up beside him. It smells like dirt. Glancing to his right, Wally noticed a woman standing beside him; she wasn't ugly but certainly not pretty enough for him to look twice. The elevator's arrival was signaled with a ding; and both Wally and the dirt girl strode inside- her walking in was a lot more graceful than his stumble but he didn't really care if she noticed. She was starring at him. Studying him. What the hell does she keep looking at? The elevator's stereotypical music did nothing to decrease the awkwardness of the standoff between the two. Wally attempted to ignore her by watching the buttons on the elevator wall, light up as it came to each passing floor. 3, 4, 5, 6, 7... Darkness.
The elevator stopped with a sickening jerk that sent both people crashing to the floor. The lights hadn't kicked back on yet. Shit, why can't I ever get stuck in an elevator with Kristen Bell?
"Excuse me...?" The girl had decided to say something instead of just stare at him. "Um, what did you do?"
Seriously? This girl is blaming me for an elevator breaking? "Pardon me?" The girl couldn't see it, but Wally had an eyebrow cocked in disbelief that she actually thought he did this.
"The elevator, what did you do- why did it stop? Why aren't the lights working." Her tone was not angry, or scared- it sounded amused. Just as she finished her sentence, the lights flicked back on and Wally finally got a good look at her.
She wasn't that pretty, and he noticed her hair was red. A ginger. It was cut short and worn straight, and her clothes would have definately stuck out in a crowd... Or an elevator with one other person. She was wearing a white skirt, worn to her ankles with orange and red flower print, and her shirt was more of a white bedsheet she tied around her neck. She's dressed like that and questioning me? It was probably God penalizing her for going out in public like that.
"Excuse me...? Can you hear me?" She was staring at him, her eyes weren't blue or green either but some sort of mix breed. Freak.
"Yeah. I can hear you. I didn't do anything to the elevator but I'm glad you assumed it was me." Wally did nothing to hide the sarcasm in his voice, but she seemed to not take notice- Wally was climbing to his feet, but she sat on the ground, legs crossed. Still staring.
"Oh. You're welcome. Can you fix it?"
Who is this girl? "Oh yeah, I would but I left my tools in the other elevator I was stuck in today. Hey why don't you fix it, I mean red hair and dressed like that- aren't you one of them rare genies or perhaps a leprauchaun?"
"Excuse me? Have I offended you in anyway?" She wasn't looking at him anymore; she was staring at the floor now.
"No... Just my nature." He didn't feel like starting an argument while trapped in an elevator.
"Oh, I understand. Is it also your nature to drink? Sorry but you smell like alchohol..." She was back to staring at him. I wish she wouldn't do that.
"And you smell like dirt." Wally's reply was sudden, and left the woman with a look of shock on her face. I need a drink. Wally knew he had a flask in his back pocket of his jeans, but he didn't want to pull it out and show this 'dirt girl' that drinking was part of his nature. It always had been. "What's your name anyway?" His tone was less than pleasant and he knew it.
"Inna. And if you want to have a drink- go ahead." She was still staring at him, but her eyebrows were raised higher than before, she was amused, not angry at all. Or offended.
How the hell did she know...? Fuckin' genies. Wally pulled the flask out, and took a swig. Whiskey.
"Perhaps one of us should climb out the top and try and get help?" She said, pointing above to a trap door in the elevator roof.
"Good luck with that one, while you're out there see if you can find me a sandwhich. I'm starving." This girl is out of her mind. I'm not James Bond and I don't plan on doing an elevator shaft escape.
"Why would I have to go?" Inna had a completely serious tone.
"It was your idea, plus I left my bat-grapple at home." Wally was frustrated, he was almost maxing out his sarcasm scale and she didn't even beat and eyelash. If he did this with Sara, she'd be ready to chew rocks, and cut him crossways. But Sara has the temper of a wolf starving in mid-winter.

"So, do you have a girlfriend? A wife maybe?" Inna was still looking up at the trap door. She was serious about this.

"Um, yeah... a girlfriend. Sara." This was the first time Wally wasn't aware of the flask in his hand. "Sara..."

"Sara? I don't like that name much." It almost sounded as if she was talking to herself.

"I'm sure she'd be thrilled to know that."

"Know what?"

"Nothing... When is this elevator going to start working... I'm late." Lied Wally. He had nowhere to go, but Inna didn't need to know that.

"Late for what?"

"Getting out of this elevator..." He trailed off, he didn't expect to actually tell her that.

"Oh in that case, so am I."

Oh so this one did have some fight in her. Wally was grinning- perhaps he could have some fun with this. "So I was wondering, why the hell do you smell like-" Wally was cut off by the sound of a mans voice coming from the speaker under the floor buttons.

"Excuse me, we will have the elevator working in no time- is everyone alright?"

"Finally... Yeah we are both fine." Wally wasn't standing up as straight as he wanted, and he was sure Inna had noticed the slur. The elevator's sudden movement sent Wally to the floor. "Shit, I think I left my stomache down a floor or two..." He didn't try to stand up; knowing it wouldn't end up as he planned. The elevator stopped at floor 14; Inna was almost out the door before it opened.

"Are you coming?" She was staring at him, a look of concern infecting her face. He raised an eyebrow at her offered hand.

"Um..." He stammered. "Naw, I think I'm gonna lay here a while... maybe wait till this coffin heads back down- maybe I can retrieve my stomache." He got that sentence out without a slur, despite his head shaking. Inna shot him a saddened look as she walked away, he watched her leave- his eyelids weighed a ton. He wasn't getting up for a while.

A Few Samples...

Thanks to those of you who have agreed to share your work... You make it a better class!

Arpita's

There were a lot of people at The Centre, but Inna had already decided which people were worth her while. There was the friendly gardener who spent most of every day in spiritual silence, the cook who was obviously full to the brim with energetic wisdom, and the yoga teacher, Fay. She taught only one class every day and it was in high demand, but in her spare time she was usually working in the garden. Today they were scheduled to work in the garden together, so Inna was excited to get to know this potential friend.Inna walked down the slope to the garden and saw Fay already hard at work in the strawberry patch. It was lovely and sunny out, the perfect time to pick sweet strawberries. Inna knelt down a few yards away from Fay and started picking, looking up at Fay every so often to monitor her facial expressions.

"It's been a while since I've had the pleasure of working in a garden like this," Inna said.

"It's great, eh?"

"So close to the Earth... I finally feel grounded." Inna smiled to herself smugly as she imagined how this kind of comment would be something Fay would relate to happily. When Fay didn't reply for a moment, Inna looked up to read her face. Inna was shocked to see a cynical sort of expression just fading away as she sighed.

"Yes," Fay said slowly, "feeling grounded is one of the best feelings there are to feel. It's too bad neither of us feels that way now. I'm in my head, focusing on our conversation, and I've never seen you be present in any moment before. Aren't you excited to some day experience that?"

Inna stared in disbelief at Fay's truly excited and supportive facial expression. How could anyone be so insensitive and rude? She sat there fuming, staring daggars at Fay as she worked with the strawberries oh-so-calmly. She was about to make her stormy sentiments known, but Fay spoke first. Her voice was deeper and softer. "Yes, being grounded is a good feeling. Mother Earth reminds me when I'm gettting too caught up in the things that don't really matter."

Inna stared cruely as Fay suddenly began to shake with tears. What shameless moodiness! What shameless weakness, to go and be nasty to someone and then start crying out of guilt and act like the tears were pure in some --

"You're projecting." Fay said, a little fed-up. "Go meditate, sweet heart. You'd feel a lot better."

Eric Varga's:

Sara opened the door of the rusted-out pickup and began to search frantically. She was searching for that note, that note that Wally gave her that one night. That one night Wally's pickup broke down on the side of a back highway for four hours; the first time Wally kissed her, after about thirteen minutes of barely any conversation. Putting her hand under the seat, she felt around for anything that felt like it. There it is. She pulled the paper out and looked, it wasn't the note he gave her, not at all. She thrust the condom wrapper back under the seat and climbed into the driver's seat, scanning the truck. The inside was in just as bad of shape as the outside. Where the outside was rusted, the inside was adorned in stains; some Sara didn't even want to think about how they got there. Or what they were from. The truck reaked of alchohol and shame, but she ignored it- she needed to find that note.
"Where the hell is it?" Asked Sara aloud, glancing down at a bag almost under the passenger seat. His gym bag. Sticking out from the top she could see his workout atire; a sweaty t-shirt with the sleeves torn off instead of cut, and some plain black shorts. It wouldn't be in there. Moving over to the passanger seat, Sara almost tipped over a coffecup in her hurry, barely noticing. Reaching under the seat, she pulled out a slew of wrappers and bottles, beer cans and an old baseball cap, printed on the back were the words, Pheonix Coyotes. His favorite hockey team. She leaned over further, reaching deeper and felt a box- pulling it out she revealed the source of the first condom wrapper, along with some of it's long lost brothers and sisters. Men. The glove compartment. She opened it up and saw nothing she needed, just a script he had written. Pulling it out and glanced at the cover, it was dated, May 21st, 2009. His birthday. Why would he be writting on his birthday? He never takes the time to enjoy his day. She opened to the middle of the script and started to read.

Amy: "You know we can't tell anyone about this, I could lose my job... Although we could consider it one of our teacher to student privlages..." Touching the pencil behind her ear, trying not to star at Jerry's transbulging-"

Sara stopped reading, a look of disgust flashed across her face and perhaps a bit of excitment. Out of the corner of her eye she caught the sight of something else in the glove compartment. A flask. It was encased in leather, embroided on the side with the words 'For the good times, and bad. Old friend.' I wish he'd stop drinking so much- especially in the truck. She scanned the dashboard, only two things on it. A speeding ticket and his hat. She hated that hat, but he loved it. The only reason he bought it was that he said it made him look like an old school detective from the 40's. She had to admit, when he wasn't shaved- which was often and when he put that hat on and lit his ciggarette, he did look like he was from the 40's. A real badass.
She picked up the coffeecup and smelt it; coffee, black and it was definately spiked. The cup was over half full. Maybe he passed out halfway through it. She almost didn't notice a small piece of white parchment fall out from under the cup. The note! Sara opened the tiny piece of paper and read it aloud.
"Dear Sara, if you are reading this, it means that I have finally gotten the balls to run away for a while. I'll be back before you know it. I'm sorry, I love you always." By the end of the note, tears were filling her eyes. "You finally did eh? You finally ran away you coward..." She was crying harder now- her eyes were red and her head hurt. She had an itch between her shoulderblades that she knew she could never scratch.
"What the hell are you crying for now? You're always so bloody sensitive." A familiar voice spoke up behind her. It was casual and had a sarcastic tone. It always had a sarcastic tone.
Sara spun round, wiping her eyes. There he was, tall and mostly shoulders with a three day beard. "Wally!"

Christilynn's:

Peyton Corby19 years oldJust moved to Scottland-long black hair-bright green cat like eyes-casual style-5'2 She is a mage that is destined to track down three mages to magically bond with for life along her journey to complete her bond with the second demension and to be able to expand and control her powers to their fullest potential. She has a power crystal that she wears on a necklace around her neck that helps her obtain and control her powers. When she holds her crystal in the palm of her hand she s able to track whom ever she wants and is able to see into the future. At the moment her visions are blurry and she is not abe to control her powers to full extent due to the fact that she has not found the three mages to complete her magical bond. Once she does she will be able to see the near future as she pleases, track people and recieve visions of more acurate locations and she will be able to control her powers and obtain them completely with force. She is able to control the elements of Earth such as flowers, trees, soil, woodland animals, etc. The three mages she will bond with for eternity will control fire, air and water/ice. They are all set out to find one another with the help of their elements and crystals (the other three mages will be able to only track eachother, but Peyton has the gift of tracking who she pleases because it is one of her main gifts). The crystals all pulse when their is dangers at the rate of their mages heart beat. Peyton is not alone though. She has a Tibetan Mastiff that is out of the ordinary. His name is Sully and he is able to speak as humans do. He was also provided a crystal as well to bond magically with his owner Peyton, therefore they are able to create magic together that is twice as strong. Peyton is very strong willed and smart. She is sensitive but never allows it to take over and show. Her style is very casual preferably jeans and a fitted leather jacket. Her parents died unexplainably on their way to Vancouver, Peyton has been on her own since she was 17. She has set out to seek the three mages who will be able to help her unravel her parents sudden death and to unravel the future that awaits them.

Eduardo's:

Character: Clide
"What is the capital of Peru?" In all honesty, I wasn't really listening. This show just pisses me off more than anything. All of these people that actually make it on the show are either doctors, or teachers, or 'scientists' in claim, but are most often med-school drop-outs. They're so full of themselves and usually end up making thousands of dollars by pressing a stupid buzzer - just because they know that magnesium has 26 protons, or neutrons, or whatever. Thousands of dollars that probably don't amount to what they already own from their doctor, or teacher, or scientist parents. This show just pisses me off.Lucky enough for me, I can barely focus on anything right now. I remember I was watching "Friends" a while ago. It was the one when they lose the baby on the bus. Everyone tells me that they hate that show, but I don't mind it. I think that was four shots ago, and when I still had my shirt on - by all rights I should go get the sippy cup in the kitchen, but it's way too far of a walk. I have to use vodka because we ran out of scotch, and I'm not waiting untill tuesday for my paycheck. I can still see 'though, and think (I think,) so Danielle won't get mad. I know she's coming home around six, and she's bringing Ian back from daycare. It will be nice to see him, since I don't have to work tonight.I don't know why I'm still watching this show. Turning off the television probably seems like the best idea right now. In a foolish attempt to get up, I bang my head on the doorframe. Again. I keep fooling myself that if I start something, I can finish it, and it works. The trip to the kitchen wasn't as far as it seemed. There's still a piece of salami in the fridge, so I can tide myself over until about six thirty - which means I've got about an hour to spare before everyone comes home. If I can make it to the door, I may as well go for a walk.It's cold out, but not cold enough for my good jacket. Putting my shirt back on, I grab my sweater and almost trip, stumbling out the door. I feel like everyone stares at me as I make my way down the steps. I know that's not true 'though - people are usually afraid of me. Whenever I pass someone they always stare at the ground, unless they're just kids, then they can't stop staring up. Ian is like that. He will be two years old in June. That's over two months away and Danielle's already preparing for the party. She always gets worried whenever I go out alone. It's not like she says it, but I can tell. She doesn't say, 'Goodbye Clide,' with that happy tone anymore, and there's something about the way that her eyes sink whenever I leave. She has every right to worry 'though. More than once I've turned down the wrong corner and some punks decide to take me on just because of my size. It's worth it since I managed to land a job as a security guard down at the Clivesdale Park Mall - not bad for my first job right after college. Now that I think about it, It's been two or three days since I've got out of the house for something other than work.Maybe I'll get something nice for Danielle. I can always get more scotch next week.


Matt's:

Jake Delaware is a historian/researcher that studies ancient artifacts, and reads ancient symbols that commonly belong to secret societies and/or organizations. He works for a Canadian organization called NTRC (National Treasure Research of Canada). He works as a special agent decoding the most advanced codes in history. He aids in the recovery of ancient artifacts, transcripts, tapestries and other artifacts of the world.
Jake's full name is Jacob Allan Delaware. Jake Delaware is 6'2" tall, and he has an athletic build. He has shoulder length, jet black hair he takes much pride in, but isn't a pretty boy. He usually wears casual clothing (long sleeve shirts, jeans, sneakers) and a leather jacket. He has no problem fitting into a suit, in fact, he enjoys wearing suits, and he thinks it makes him look important.
Jake isn't very openly emotional and he hides most of his feelings with sarcasm and constant joking, but when a serious situation arises, he stays focused and keeps serious about the situation until it's solved. He also has a very short fuse, and gets angry when others are made fun of, hurt, etc. He is selfless, and cares more about the people around him than himself.
He is trained with various projectile weapons (handgun, shotgun, etc.) and carries a 9mm handgun with him at all times. He is not trained in any foreign martial arts, but wishes to pursue one later on in his life. Jake unfortunately does not have a lot of stamina, and can't run long distances for very long.
Jake has no current relationships, and doesn't wish to pursue one until he is settled down. The last girlfriend he had dumped him for one of his friends, which convinced him that all girls hated him since it had happened in the past. Jake would like to get married and possibly have kids, but at an older age (above 25).
Jake's home life is satisfying to his needs. His father past away when Jake was 21 from lung cancer, and his mother lives with him at home with minor arthritis. He has one sister, Sonya Delaware which lives in the Detroit, Michigan a few years after her father's death. Jake and his sister talk to each other every once and a while, and try to keep in touch when they aren't working.
Jake wishes to move to Australia when he gets enough money (or wins the lottery, which ever comes first) and hopefully live with his mother, and sister.

Whitney's Sketch:

It must be six o’clock. My feet don’t want to move, it’s too cold; I’m so comfortable. But okay, I’m up. Shower time. The water’s hot, the best way to have it and I’m falling asleep all over again, probably shouldn’t have stayed up so late last night massacring all those zombies. Okay, condition and I’m done.
Damn, it’s raining again, why did I move here? It’s rained every day since I’ve been here. But of course, time for work, I’ll take a cab today because there’s no time for the bus. My eyes are red and there are dark circles surrounding them... stupid zombies. I wonder if that cute intern is going to be in today, I should probably learn her name.
Not bad, 6:30, hair looks good; all short and soft, so glad I cut it, that intern isn’t going to know what hit her. Jeans are frowned upon at the office, but I won’t be there all day so too bad. Pinstripe dress-shirt and I’m done. And now to call the cab, which is so much more different than just hailing one. But it’s taking forever; I probably could have waited upstairs in my flat and watched out the window, rather than in this cold, damp lobby. “Mr. Etelle?” my name sounds funny when said with an accent, “Your mail is here.” I grab it and stuff it in my bag when I hear a weak horn honk from outside and I thank the old man behind the front desk. Running out into the rain I yank my coat over my head to save my hair from disaster. I jump into the back of the cab; success, its still intact.
“Studio Eight, on St. Adams Street” I demand from the driver and she turns her head to give me a look before pulling out into the street.
“Not from around here?” she asks, but I only hear her faintly because I have my headphones in. “Where you from?”
“Oh, uh, London” I say, and cut her off before she gets excited, “Ontario.”
“Oh, well then. You’re a little far from home, huh?”
“Huh?” I respond, not actually caring what she’s talking about. She turns and pretends to have said nothing, as I shove my other headphone in my left ear. Pulling up to the gates, I hand her £8 and say thanks as I jump out and slam the door behind me.

Now, let's get these characters interacting with one another.

Try picking two or three of the above characters and putting them in one of the following three settings. Strive for about 500 to 800 words of fiction. Try to balance your narration and dialogue.

1) In a crashing airliner. The characters are among the passengers but the pilot and co-pilot are (predictably) unconscious/incapacitated/dead.

2) At the North Pole. The closest settlement is about a 5 day trek. The characters have limited supplies.

3) Stuck in an elevator... whose fault was it anyway? What should we do with our time? How are we goning to get out?

Journal Entry # 1

Journal # 1

“Write what you know”


The first rule of writing is to “Write What You Know.” What do you know? What are the experiences, settings, topics, issues, genres, themes and characters that you feel you can comfortably write about?

What are the experiences, settings, topics, issues, genres, themes and characters that you are interested in enough to research in order to write about them more effectively?

What are your limitations? In other words, what topics do you feel unknowledgeable about and think you should avoid?

3 Different Characterisations...

from MacBeth:

For brave Macbeth--well he deserves that name--
Disdaining fortune, with his brandish'd steel,
Which smoked with bloody execution,
Like valour's minion carved out his passage
Till he faced the slave;
Which ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him,
Till he unseam'd him from the nave to the chaps,
And fix'd his head upon our battlements.

-by William Shakespeare

* * *

from Larry's Party

by Carol Shields

* * *

from Middlemarch

by George Elliot

MISS BROOKE had that kind of beauty which seems to be thrown into relief by poor dress. Her hand and wrist were so finely formed that she could wear sleeves not less bare of style than those in which the Blessed Virgin appeared to Italian painters; and her profile as well as her stature and bearing seemed to gain the more dignity from her plain garments, which by the side of provincial fashion gave her the impressiveness of a fine quotation from the Bible, -- or from one of our elder poets, -- in a paragraph of to-day's newspaper. She was usually spoken of as being remarkably clever, but with the addition that her sister Celia had more common-sense. Nevertheless, Celia wore scarcely more trimmings; and it was only to close observers that her dress differed from her sister's, and had a shade of coquetry in its arrangements; for Miss Brooke's plain dressing was due to mixed conditions, in most of which her sister shared. The pride of being ladies had something to do with it: the Brooke connections, though not exactly aristocratic, were unquestionably "good": if you inquired backward for a generation or two, you would not find any yard-measuring or parcel-tying forefathers -- anything lower than an admiral or a clergyman; and there was even an ancestor discernible as a Puritan gentleman who served under Cromwell, but afterwards conformed, and managed to come out of all political troubles as the proprietor of a respectable family estate. Young women of such birth, living in a quiet country-house, and attending a village church hardly larger than a parlour, naturally regarded frippery as the ambition of a huckster's daughter. Then there was well-bred economy, which in those days made show in dress the first item to be deducted from, when any margin was required for expenses more distinctive of rank. Such reasons would have been enough to account for plain dress, quite apart from religious feeling; but in Miss Brooke's case, religion alone would have determined it; and Celia mildly acquiesced in all her sister's sentiments, only infusing them with that common-sense which is able to accept momentous doctrines without any eccentric agitation. Dorothea knew many passages of Pascal's / Pens‚es / and of Jeremy Taylor by heart; and to her the destinies of mankind, seen by the light of Christianity, made the solicitudes of feminine fashion appear an occupation for Bedlam. She could not reconcile the anxieties of a spiritual life involving eternal consequences, with a keen interest in guimp and artificial protusions of drapery. Her mind was theoretic, and yearned by its nature after some lofty conception of the world which might frankly include the parish of Tipton and her own rule of conduct there; she was enamoured of intensity and greatness, and rash in embracing whatever seemed to her to have those aspects; likely to seek martyrdom, to make retractions, and then to incur martyrdom after all in a quarter where she had not sought it. Certainly such elements in the character of a marriagable girl tended to interfere with her lot, and hinder it from being decided according to custom, by good looks, vanity, and merely canine affection. With all this, she, the elder of the sisters, was not yet twenty, and they had both been educated, since they were about twelve years old and had lost their parents, on plans at once narrow and promiscuous, first in an English family and afterwards in a Swiss family at Lausanne, their bachelor uncle and guardian trying in this way to remedy the disadvantages of their orphaned condition.