The Plot Sickens: Free-write & Reflection

Free Write

                It was Christmas Eve. Fog stuck to the tarmac at Lindbergh Field. But who cares about that? I live in Somerset, Massachusetts; so what was happening in San Diego was the least of my concerns. It was about five o’clock in the afternoon. I sat on my living room couch, wrapped in my extra-large Snuggie, holding a mug full of white hot chocolate in one hand and the television remote in the other. As I did every year around this time, I was watching a marathon of Christmas movies. I began the marathon with both versions of How the Grinch Stole Christmas, then I proceeded to A Year Without a Santa Clause, and now I was watching one of my favorites The Santa Clause 3. I was home alone for a few hours while my mother was shopping.

                After I finished the last movie, Mom walked in with my sister carrying countless bags filled with presents. I said Hi to them then decided to go upstairs to bed. I walked up the stairs, down the hallway and to my door. But as I opened the door to my room, an avalanche fog rushed past me and into the hallway. My whole room was covered in a thick wall of fog. Then I noticed that the fog machine had been left on. My sister wanted to use my room for a photo shoot, so she used fog as a backdrop for some of the photos. I shut off the fog machine and opened my windows to let the fog out. After a while the fog was gone, so I closed the windows and settled into my bed. I fell asleep rather quickly.

                BANG! A loud noise woke me from a deep sleep. I look at the clock beside my bed, it is one o'clock in the morning. I quickly jump out of bed and run out to the living room to examine the situation. I slowly scan the room with my eyes, it is nearly pitch black. I grab a flashlight and walk a few steps towards the dining room then turned to my left. BANG! I turned my flashlight in the direction of the noise.

                Meow… it was my cat, who had knocked over one of our metal vases.

Reflection

                The passage that I have just read really opened my eyes about why people write the way they do this day and age. Howe was really able to convince me that she was correct. She used amazing quotes like, "Clearly these young writers don't know how to solve the problems they have invented in the first few pages." She also stated the reason for the students inability to solve the created issues as, "The forces of the Economy." I would say that the short story I have written is not what Howe describes in this passage. I believe that my short story had a decent plot with a problem and a solution. Unlike the stories that Howe's students wrote, which included a parade of problems for the protagonist without a solution to the created issues. I believe that my short story was the opposite of this. It had a problem, the 'BANG!' noise, and a solution, finding out that it was the cat.  I also believe that my story had more of a positive tone to it. Unlike some of the stories Howe's students composed. Mine had a happy plot that discussed the things I did on Christmas eve. The students stories often spoke of negative things such as selling drugs or explosions. While both the students short stories and mine had the same beginning, our plots varied.

Self-Deprecation Work

Self Deprecation

I sit at the lunch table with my friends. As the last people arrive at the table, I begin a discussion, “So are we going to win tonight?” My friends and I begin analyzing the possible outcomes of our upcoming hockey game against O’Bryant. We all think the same thing,
 “It’s going to be an easy win for us.” We all say in near perfect harmony. As Justin tries to add a comment, I interrupt,
 “I think the outcome of this game is inevitable. O’Bryant is clearly an inferior opponent. They have no goalie, horrible defense and a mediocre scoring attack. They’re doomed.” I say rather loudly.

Gilbert then enters the conversation, “I think coach will--”
I interrupt,  “Let you play? Oh, definitely, we will probably be on the first line against a team like O’Bryant.” Everyone nods in agreement, “ I wouldn’t be surprised if coach plays us every other shift,” I continue, “Because what is the point of playing our best player against a team like that. We will blow them out. I know it.” The table goes silent for a few minutes as we eat our lunches.

I break the silence, “I think I could get a hat trick in this game.” I then go silent for a while and listen to the other boys talk. They all spoke about how their days were going, how we are going to get together after we win, how their girlfriends were doing, etc. Soon enough the bell rings signaling the end of lunch. I head back to my class to see my friend Gianna. She looks up from her phone, which was very rare. I almost felt honored that she even said “Hi" to me. I sit down at my desk and pick up my phone. I begin to text Gianna. We talk back and forth for about five minutes then the teacher notices and tells us to get back to work.

After school I get on the bus and the driver takes me home. I arrive at my house and go to chill out in my room. I watch television for about an hour then decided to take a short nap. I wake up to the sound of my mother yelling my name. I turn my phone on and see that it is 6:00. I have to leave for my game. I quickly get dressed and run out to the car. My mom backs out of the driveway and we head up to Foxboro.

I arrive at the rink at exactly 7:00, one hour before my game starts. I walked to my locker room and sat down at my stall. I notice that my friends are here and we start talking,
 “Hey guys what’s up.” I say. Goldstein sparks the conversation by saying,
 “Nothing much JJ Hockey.” I laugh. ,
Gilbert then enters the discussion by asking “JJ did you bring the jellybeans today?” I nod and hand him his share of our team's lucky jelly beans then continue talking, “This is a very winnable game tonight boys,” I continue, “I am so excited to finally get the chance to play.”

           Clint then walks into the locker room and sits down to talk with us.
 As I babble on about how excited I am, he interrupts and says, “Hey JJ, how about you let us talk a bit.” I blush.

          For basically the entire time we were dressing for hockey I did not say a word. Clint brought

up an interesting topic of conversation,

         "So do you guys even think its a good thing to score against a team like O'Bryant?"  We all

laughed and nodded. Then Gilbert added a comment while he was still chuckling,

         "Dude, its a disgrace to even say you played in a game against them." We all bursted into an

uproar of Laughter