Reflective Essay

Reflective Essay

I’ve always loved creative writing.  My biggest challenge with it, however, is my short attention span and tendency to daydream instead of write.  I learned that in order to start writing – or writing well – I needed to just sit down and type without looking at the screen.  This method taught me to focus all of my thoughts on the passage at hand without worrying too much about what I was writing and whether it was grammatically correct.  The writing process simply begins with starting.  After that, it’s just writing until you think you’ve said what you needed to.  I observed that my writing became more centered on specific detail that allowed me to flesh out my plot more.  I think my writing is improving and finally taking on my voice.  My attitude has become more positive and relaxed about creative writing now; I’m no longer set on writing things perfectly.  My least favorite aspect of creative writing is probably the effort and motivation it takes to come up with ideas and actually write.  It’s not something you suddenly want to do, but something that you force yourself to do.  I can continue to grow by not restricting my writing as much and allowing my thoughts to take me wherever they want.  The criteria I used to select the pieces for my final project was piece clarity, use of description, and creativity in idea.  My blog reflects what I feel like I’m doing all the time:  randomly writing.  I will continue to use writing to write essays in college and, if I get my dream, become a published author.

Original Piece

Writer’s Dilemma

            I sat writing.  My teacher wanted me to finish this essay by tomorrow.  Now was not the time to zone out.  The blank piece of paper sat on my task, its white face taunting my attempts to write.  My pen dripped a black dot of ink onto the paper.

            “Ah, man,” I hissed.  I tried to scrub it off, only to create a black smear in its place.  Of course.  I sighed and put my head in my hands, but quickly jerked back when I remembered I had just wiped ink off the page.  I snatched a mirror from my desk and stared resignedly at the new black mark on my nose.

            “I’m not going to finish this, am I?”  I said to myself.  The face in the mirror blinked back with cold, discouraged eyes.  Then the eyes widened in alarm as my paper started shining a bright, blue color.  I set down the mirror and slid my chair back.  What was I supposed to do?

            Suddenly, the light vanished and left the paper a spotless white.  I reached out a tentative hand and touched a corner of the now normal sheet.  It rippled with a blue energy as if I had disturbed the top of a still body of water.  Then it didn’t move.

            I shrugged and with a slight frown, grasped my pen.  Its cold plastic surface was reassuring, and I was relieved it didn’t morph into something else as well.  Raising an eyebrow I scratched a line on the paper.

            An explosion of light caused me to yelp and I dropped the pen on the desk.  A new line of bright blue light shone on the paper.  I waited for several seconds, but it didn’t vanish.  Soon I took my pen up again and scribbled something next to the line.  Another flash of light; another line.

Grinning at my new discovery, I began etching lines and shapes all over my page.  On impulse, I drew a large swirling circle, filling the entire page with blue light.  I laughed cheerfully at all the designs on the once blank sheet, but quickly stopped when the page grew brighter and brighter.  I backed away, suddenly wondering if the sheet could explode.

With a pop, the circle seemed to fall out of the paper.

            I edged forward slowly, surprised to find a new hole in the page.  Unlike I expected, however, the hole wasn’t filled with the yellow wood of my desk.  It was filled with grass.

            I stared in horror and wonder at the world just beyond the edges of the hole.  I shifted the paper with my finger and watched the hole to the world move slightly.  Picking up the sheet, I quickly looked behind it and found only my desk.  Finally, I stuck an arm through the hole.

            A sucking sensation pulled at my skin.  Gentle and pulsing at first, then stronger and more demanding.  Before I could pull my arm out, I found myself being dragged into the hole.  I cried out for help just as I vanished into the world.

            Where was I?  I got off the ground where I had landed and turned slowly.  A grassy field had replaced my bedroom entirely.  Glancing down, I noticed my plastic pen lying on the ground.  I quickly picked it up and studied it for some sign of irregularity.  To my disappointment, it continued to be an average pen.

            Footsteps behind me caused me to turn and for the second time today, my eyes went wide.  Standing behind me was a large chestnut horse with a rider clad in armor on top.

            “Mr. Ralley, you are under arrest for the crime of procrastination,” the rider said.

Final Project

1. Calculator

 I glance at my screen and scribble down the answer.  Then I hesitate and check again, finger rapidly punching keys.  I smile and continue on with my homework.  A face changes, a word darts out.  My eyes glance up.  Indeed.  Once more I check the answer on my screen, type a few more numbers.  Check.  I resume until the person in front of me says something else to change my mind.  And so I continue, checking and rechecking the answer I've concluded for the people around me:  the answer of who they are.

2. Comparisons

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

-          Shakespeare

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

Or the blue sky stretched above?

You are fresh paper on the desk

And new markers on the whiteboard.

The tall tree in the field alone,

And the flower sprouting up.

However, you are not the grass around the flower,

The moonlight’s glow upon the leaves,

The wind rushing through the air,

Or the light guiding ships at seas.

It is possible that you are the storm in the air,

Or perhaps the thunder rumbling,

But you are not

The lightning crashing to the ground,

Or the rain drops on the window pane.

With a second glance, it is revealed,

That you are not the dark in night,

Or the flashlight beaming through.

You see those traits more resemble me;

I am the light bulb flickering out

Before it’s bright outside.

I am the sparking star above,

The sunlight upon the leaves,

The colors of the fallen trees,

And the windswept ally in the streets.

I am also the gray-tinged clouds,

The light of dusk just fading.

But I am not the summer’s day,

Sun shining high above.

No, I am not this summer’s day,

Full of warmth and love.

3. Said the Pebble

Said the pebble to the grass,

“This spot is mine, you will not last.”

The blade of grass fought but failed

To keep its spot, the rock prevailed.

Bruised and nearly broke in half,

The grass did cry, the pebble laugh’d.

“I’ll be back, then you shall see,”

“There’s no chance of you beating me.”

But the blade did grow with time;

It grew into a tree sublime.

At its roots the pebble sits,

Shifted, broken, and full of splits.

4. There I Walked

There I walked among the stars, asking softly what they are.  Dark blue swirls around orbs of light, which though surrounded, are so bright.  My feet drift among star paths, as I hang them off my raft.  Ripples in the universe or perhaps, just the lake’s surface.  There I walked among the stars, asking softly what they are.

5. Wolf

Speak.  All there is silence.  The wolf’s eyes shine out in the darkness.  Speak.  Eyes narrow, ears push forward, tail bristles.  Speak.  All you have to do is get one word into the open.  All is silence, silver teeth flash briefly.  A warning.  My tongue catches, my mind blanks, and I stare at the desk in front of me.  Pointed ears flatten and a grimace slides across the wolf’s mouth.  It shouldn’t be this hard, just open your mouth and reveal your thoughts.  Speak.

6. Dream

I walk the plush green hill of my home.  Hard, weather-worn boulders stood proudly in the fields.  The clear, blue sky is a strange contrast to the striking red coats of the warriors below.  My family trots behind me like nervous deer.  Mallets hit the white, leathery tops of drums, sending pulsing waves through the air.  It reminded me of a heartbeat.  Bagpipes’ discordant sounds sprung up in return.  All the commotion of shouts and bangs seem off against the soft, wispy clouds swirling in the sky.

7. Car Crash

Shoes clacked on the pavement, followed by the slam of a door.  “I didn’t even wear a seat belt!”  Someone bragged.  Anxiety rolled through me like thunder, accented by paralyzing streaks of lightning:  fear.  Something wasn’t right this time.

            The shiny, silver car my brother drove glinted in the driveway.  It smiled crookedly, the front bumper hanging off by a single hinge.  A black eye darkened one of the headlights and an ugly scar shattered like a web across the windshield.  The car wheezed, wincing at the broken rib of dented metal on its side.  I counted one head coming to the house, two, three, four, five.  No, wait.  My heart beat faster, ringing through my skull and gushing through my feet.  Only four.

            Only four.  The car coughed, sputtered, and died.  Shoes clacked on the pavement, followed by the slam of a door.  “I didn’t even wear a seat belt!”  Someone bragged.  Anxiety rolled through me like thunder, accented by paralyzing streaks of lightning:  fear.  Something wasn’t right this time.

8. Daydream

I grew up in a room of colors with fictitious worlds painted on my wall.  In my head more worlds collide; twisting and shifting before my view.  I smile as it consumes my reality, locking away time and holding my attention.  It is my reality.  I frown at the slinking, vaporous blackness hovering just barely out of sight.

The tendrils of darkness reach for me, almost brushing my arm.  My heart thuds and I gasp, pulling away.  My gaze falls back to the soft light coming from the surrounding nations, a refuge from the dark.  The darkness retreats leaving sorrow to fill its place.  Tears briefly sting my eyes and my vision blurs, but I clench my jaw until it passes.  The light worlds spin and their lights dance, once more entrancing me.

Suddenly my eyes jump into focus and I am confronted with sheets of paper and the ink of the book I’m supposed to be reading.  I scan a sentence or two, but it isn’t long before a word catches my gaze.  The word wavers softly.  Something stirs inside me and once more I am back to my worlds of light.  But a tremor runs through me as I realize I’m on wrong side.  The light from my nations twinkle dimly from the far horizon.  Then the fear fades slightly, an unwilling smile twitches my lips as the dark starts to take hold.

I flinch.  Cream paper and hard black words confront and reassure me, but the dark still lingers, waiting.  As it gradually creeps nearer, I plunge into my worlds of light intentionally, fleeing from pursuing Blackness.  The darkness hisses and shrinks away, but it is not without cost.  I watch in dismay as another part of my nation of light is darkened and dragged slowly.

A sharp, piercing, screaming tone penetrates my consciousness.  My worlds vanish, shattered by the ringing bell seizing my attention.  I sigh and stand up.  It is time to create another daydream; one to replace the part of my light nation that is now shadowed, twisted, and grotesque.  I walk the halls, and though it is the same as before, it somehow seems different.  As I walk, passing students and classrooms, I am once more confronted with the question of reality.  My worlds echo inside and my personality swishes and revolves around them.

9. Leprechaun

I watch the clouds part and a transparent rainbow cast itself against the sky.  I looked at my watch.  It’s time.  I grabbed my shovel by the door and ran fast, chasing the end of the rainbow.  Cars honked and people shouted, but I kept running.  My tennis shoes slapped against the hard pavement, stinging my feet.  The rainbow started to vanish, I noticed this fading with alarm and ran faster.  Just a bit farther.  There was little trace of the colors now and I almost thought I was imagining the faint remnant.  Suddenly a cloud blocked the sun causing the rainbow to disappear completely.  I fell to my knees in despair.  Another year I had failed to find it.  The faces of the people I knew sneered and mocked me in my head.  For a second, the words came back to me:  ‘You know it’s not real, right?’ My eyes started to sting and I wiped them on my plaid sleeve.  Suddenly a voice spoke up, “Why are you crying?”  I looked up in surprise and wonder to find a short, orange-haired man, entirely decked in green.  The man waited impatiently.  “No really, what do you want?  All you crazy people chasing rainbows are after something.”

10. Wings

            A flutter awoke me.  My eyes opened and I shifted to look around.  My feet felt cold and I glanced back at them.  My eyes went wide.

            My sheets had been replaced with glistening white wing.  I stretched and the wings unfolded gracefully.  With a soft cry of joy, I leaped from my bed and flapped them gleefully.  The wings carried me a few feet off my cold wooden floor.

            The night air drifted through my window and I froze, a wild idea – a temptation – filling my mind.  Like Odysseus being drawn by a siren, I walked toward the open window and brushed my finger along its sill.  Then with one mighty flap, I dove out.

            I felt panic as I rapidly approached the ground.  For a second, I got an image of me lying broken on the ground with one wing bent off to the side.  Then with another flap, my altitude increased.  I soared higher, watching the fields grow small below.  My house sat in the middle, watching me sadly as I jumped higher and higher.  The clouds around me glowed a welcome and birds flapped near.

            “Where are you going?”  I asked the birds as they flapped.

            “Away, away!”  They answered and sped off into the air of night.  Next the stars came into view, brightly dancing through and through.  They laughed and sparkled; I smiled back.

            Then my wings grew heavy.  I tried to reach the moon and play with the stars, but I was pulled down.  My feet felt like they had weights attacked and I sank quickly below.  I tried hard to stay afloat, but failed.  Gravity reclaimed me.

My wings gave out and fluttered as I fell, enveloping me vainly.  The ground grew nearer and nearer, the birds screamed after me.  I fell faster and saw the fields expand, growing to meet me.  The house looked on with concern in its window panes.  I closed my eyes.

            My muscles jumped, tensing for impact.  Then I realized I was on my pillow, covered gently by my sheets.  My parents sat snoring in their beds down the hall.  I waited for something to happen, but the sun returned, shining brightly on the fields I’d been soaring over.