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[jlowen004]

10.1 - Experience

As I opened my eyes the first thing that came to my attention was the pain in my back. How I miss the days when having such pains were far from my thoughts. I slowly got up, and walked to the bathroom to complete my morning rituals, which were taking longer with each passing day. I was in no particular hurry; in fact, I haven’t been in a hurry since I moved to Sunny Homes retirement community 5 years ago.

I made the decision to move here myself after my wife died. The solitude of living alone became too much for me to handle. I was always so certain she would be the one to outlive me, but I guess I was wrong. So here I am, at the old age of 82, living out the last years of my life in relative boredom.

               Every day seems so repetitive around here. First, I usually meet some friends I’ve made here for breakfast at one of our village restaurants. Then we normally complain about some aspect of the food, and someone usually mentions some new pain they’re having. Around midday I’ll usually meet the same people for some card games, which I’ll usually win, or bingo, which I usually won’t. I would definitely describe myself as one of the sharper people in the community. While admittedly I’m one of the younger people here at 82, I like to think my wits are still fully around me. I like to attribute it to keeping the mind active with puzzles and games and the such.

               When night time rolls around, people who are more physically active such as myself will usually meet for dinner. The conversation is normally the same as breakfast, and often just as mind-numbingly dull. The highlight of anyone’s day here is without a doubt when one of their relatives, especially grandchildren, visit them. While I am fortunate to have 4 grandchildren, I don’t hear from them nearly as much as I would like it. I understand though, if I was in college and the prime of my life, I would be too busy to visit my grandparents as well.

***

               I didn’t find this particular experience too hard. My main concern while writing this was making it seem genuine enough, as I don’t have personal experience being relatively old. Fortunately, it was easy to describe much of the details based off my own experience interacting with older people, as well as knowing some of the clichés associated with them. After finishing the story, it admittedly seems a bit too cliché and like a stock character, so I suppose putting them in a more unique environment which I am also unfamiliar with could help. I certainly found age a more challenge attribute to change than gender. Perhaps this goes to show that age can have a much larger effect on character development.

[kbartschat-blog]

Prompt 9.1

1. She was moving so fast that the things inside of her head couldn’t catch up to her. She raced between the pools of light the street-lamps cast on the sidewalk, barely feeling the coldness of the air on her fingers. With each pedal the bike beneath her rattled in protest. It didn’t worry her though, she wouldn’t half-mind it if the bike broke down, leaving her sprawled across the pavement.

She pushed forward in her seat, pumping harder until her lungs felt as if they would burst. Buildings and parked cars blurred together into a fog of grays and blues. The wind picked up again, and she flung herself against the extra resistance it added. Maybe she could reach that point again when the adrenaline would flood into her veins and she would feel something. It had been too long, stuck in this daze.

2. She was moving so fast that the things inside of her head couldn’t catch up to her. She raced between the pools of light the street-lamps cast on the sidewalk, barely feeling the coldness of the air on her fingertips. The absolute silence of this hour, interrupted only by her heavy breaths, surrounded her like a blanket of quiet. This was her favorite time of the night. With each pedal the bike beneath her rattled in protest. It didn’t worry her though, she wouldn’t half mind it if the bike broke down, leaving her sprawled across the pavement. 

     She pushed herself in her seat, pumping harder until her lungs felt as if they would burst. Buildings and parked cars blurred together in a fog of grays and blues. A surrealist painting of the town she had always called home. A part of her felt detached, as if it was observing her, a frantic figure speeding down the road, from a distance far above. This person admired the solitude of this hour. The way the moonlight glinted off the metal frame of her bike, the glow that illuminated the checker curtains in someone’s window. The wind picked up again, and she flung herself against the extra resistance it added. Maybe she could reach that point again when the adrenaline would flood into her veins and she would feel something. It had been too long, stuck in this daze.

[jlowen004]

I really like the emotion you chose to write about in your scene. I can’t quite think of the word to describe it, but it seems pretty clear that you are writing about an adrenaline junkie. So perhaps you are writing about excitement or carelessness? I also thought your description of the setting was excellent, and it painted a clear picture in my mind. That being said, I wasn’t necessarily more confused about your emotion in the second version than I was in the first one. I definitely liked the added details in the second one, however, I think the first one is about the same amount of complicated. Maybe giving some hint of why she is such a careless thrill-seeking person could add some further “complication.” Actually, maybe just making the first version more simple to make it a more stark comparison between the two would make your target emotion more apparent.

[jlowen004]

9.1

Straightforward:

I lean my head back against the armrest of the couch as I take another sip of vodka. I don’t feel like moving. I don’t feel like talking. I don’t feel like doing anything at all. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll get up and be more productive.  Then again, that’s what I’ve told myself the past 2 months.

Complicated:

I have gotten everything I could have asked for. I worked hard, became the CEO of my own company, and purchased a penthouse suite in New York City. Yet, as I sit here alone, overlooking the city skyline, I can’t help but ask myself “What’s the point?” TIME magazine recently named me innovator of the decade. Admittedly, I couldn’t help but smile as I walked on stage to receive the award. Now, as I think about it while drinking my vodka, it all seems so superficial. It seemed all too easy.

[ucdfictionalthings]

8.1

The weather beaten tombstone stands proudly in the cemetery. Beside it, a man leans against a blank grave-marker, a cigarette dangling from his hand.

[jlowen004]

He leaned against the blank tombstone solemnly, taking a drag from his cigarette.

[ucdfictionalthings]

Prompt 8.1

He had a cheap bottle of vodka in one hand and two pills in the other, he thought fuck it…

[jlowen004]

Fuck it.

He downed a handful of pills with a swig of vodka.

[jlowen004]

Author Bio (8.2)

Jeremy Lowen is a biomedical engineering major at the University of California, Davis. As a result, his writing often revolves around science related topics or research journals. He recently coauthored a published research paper, and is currently working on a second one. Despite his background in non-fiction, Jeremy enjoys reading fantasy in his free time, and can get lost in a good book for hours. Jeremy is a multi-instrumentalist and spends much of his free time playing music, which is often reflected in the topics Jeremy chooses to write about in his fictional pieces.

[kbartschat-blog]

Sleepless192 has entered the chat

<Welcome to tripsit sanctuary, this is a calm environment for anyone who needs it. Keep it positive.>

Sleepless192: Hello any1 online?

Doctorchill: yah do you need help with anything?  

Sleepless192: Is this real.

Doctorchill: what are you on? we can help you ride it out. just need to make sure u r safe. 

Sleepless192: i think acid. 1 tab. feeling strange. not like im dying just weird. 

MadMax: I’ll link you to our page on LSD you can read about what you need to avoid right now/how long the trip will last. 

Doctorchill: If u just want to talk we r here. I have had bad trips before so I can talk you thru it. 

Sleepless192: I think the colors inside of me r outside nw. Im scard. 

MadMax: 1 tab isnt that bad. usually stronger than advertised. Are you at home now?

Sleepless192: yes

MadMax: Ok good. Just chill out as best as you can. and enjoy. How are the visuals?

Sleepless192: blu auras around my fingers. The wlls are moving like waves, kind of breathin. Time is physical.

Doctorchill: physical?

Sleepless192: I can feel it changing. It is changing length. can’t believe im already 21. 

Doctorchill: haha dude thats a good way 2 celebrate ur bday. time flies right?

MadMax: congrats!!

Sleepless192: im not too hppy aboutit i shouldve dn more in my time here. Like I shouldv done more to help every1 here with me. 

Sleepless192: like humanity becus i can feel everyone right now and they are disappointed. i can feel everyone breathing. 

Doctorchill: don’t worry that’s just th acid making u feel like that. u have more time to make a difference. 

MadMax: are you alone?

Sleepless192: Yes. my friends lft hours ago. very alone. didnt want to take cre of me so im on this site. 

MadMax: ok well, you aren’t alone. we are here. 

Sleepless192: on the computer

Doctorchill: still we can hlp

MadMax: hello?

Sleepless192 has left the chat

[jlowen004]

There were so many small elements here that I really enjoyed, and I thought were really well done. To begin, I love your choice of usernames. From Sleepless192 to Doctorchill, I thought they were really clever and you had me laughing. Also your choice of domain name as tripsit sanctuary was really well picked and hiliarous as well. Another aspect which really contributed to the form was your use of abbreviations throughout, making it all the more believable.

One thing I wasn’t quite sure about was who was hosting the chatroom. Is this a condoned medical chatroom, or just a place where people with drug experience can help each other? I got the sense of the latter, but was still unsure. One other thing you might want to add are some time tags, so we can get an idea of the time span this conversation takes place over.

[jlowen004]

A Late Night Conversation (7.2)

12:38 am

Hey…you still up?

Yeah…i’m studying for a midterm tmrw. What’s up?

Idk…I can’t seem to sleep.

Meanwhile I’m struggling to stay awake…trade me?

I’m having one of those extrinsic “what’s the point of life” moments

Ughhh I can’t discuss this right now. I need to study

Fineee. I’ll keep my philosophical thoughts to myself

1:38 am

So how’s the studying going?

Horrible. Still awake I see?

Maybe the point of life is to be happy. That seems reasonable right?

Well I’m certainly doing it wrong then. Miserable doesn’t even begin to describe me right now

I mean what’s the point of doing anything if we’re not happy

Idk…to get good grades and make money

What makes you happy?

Getting on A on my test tmrw would make me happy

Idk what makes me happy…I feel like I have no purpose in life

2:38 am

I think I’ve figured it out

You figured out how to get me an A on my test tmrw?

Nope. I’ve figured out the meaning of life

Well please enlighten me

There is no meaning

…

No really, that’s the meaning of life

The meaning of life is that there is no meaning?

Yep

Well color me impressed. Let me go notify the nobel prize committee

Think about it though…if life was an accident surely there can be no meaning. Therefore, we can all create our own meaning

That’s pretty deep

But doesn’t it make sense? We all create our own purpose and meaning for ourselves

Well hopefully you can sleep now that you’ve got that figured out

Yeah

3:38 am

Now that I think about it, I think your right. There is no meaning of life. It’s kind of a freeing thought the more I think about it. It kind of makes me feel silly staying up this late to study

[jlowen004]

Question Response (6.2,6.3)

The first question I want to address is:

People tend to write about their own experience in stories, and since they don’t really want the reader to know it actually happened, they take out some information. But how could we leave enough information to let the readers know only well enough about the character?

There are plenty of ways to incorporate your own experiences without essentially writing an autobiography. For instance, fundamental character differences such as gender could be changed, or perhaps where they are from. Place the characters in new environments that perhaps you haven’t experienced, but where the experience you want to write about is still possible.

Furthermore, depending on what you are trying to achieve, it might be a good thing to make it so the reader is able to believe it actually happened. I’m sure there are cases where using your own experiences to write stories can provide a compelling plot. The one thing you want to avoid though is to not become so close to your work that you can’t take criticism or separate it from reality.

http://amysuto.com/2012/04/distance-yourself-from-your-story/

The link I posted above touches on that point. It basically talks about how some writings become so close to their work they cannot bear to hear criticism. It goes over several points that I think are somewhat applicable to this question:

1. “Keep coming up with new ideas.” This admittedly seems somewhat straightforward and common-sense oriented to me, but I feel like it is advice new writers forget a lot. If you feel like you’re writing to much of yourself into the story, or if you don’t like how the plot is developing, take a step back and just start brainstorming brand new ideas. Ideas that are perhaps not related to yourself or the story, but can augment it and make it its own.

2. “Don’t write yourself as the protagonist.” This is much more directly related to your question. I agree with the fact that it’s fine to put a piece of yourself into characters you create, and perhaps you can’t avoid that; however, you want to make sure that the character is something you can view objectively with bias.

The next question I want to address is:

How do you incorporate elements of fantasy into a story well? Many of the stories we’ve read in class, such as “Sea Oak” or “Louise’s Ghost” incorporate fantasy, but they all do so in a matter-of-fact way that doesn’t seem to detract from characterization or the general believability of the story. How do you do fantasy without it seeming hokey?

I really like this question because I love reading fantasy! In fact, I’m in the midst of binge reading two new fantasy genre books this weekend. Before referencing some other sources, I’d like to give my opinion based off what I enjoy reading in fantasy.

The best fantasy I’ve read often build brand new worlds, as well as create their own races. There’s so much room out there for the creation of new magic systems and world building that it is definitely possible to avoid common clichés. Furthermore, I think when writing fantasy you have to have confidence in what your writing. You can’t be second guessing yourself, otherwise the readers will too. I can definitely tell the difference when an author doesn’t believe in his own creation.

Continuing, I think a lot of the best fantasy entraps their readers by allowing them to connect to the story some way or another. By being able to picture the story in your head and relate to the story, you become almost part of it rather than just reading about it. My roommates and I will often joke about how boring and depressing our lives are after reading a book we all really enjoy. That’s how you can tell when an author did a good job.

https://www.quora.com/How-do-you-write-a-fantasy-story-that-is-not-cheesy-and-clich%C3%A9d

The link above voices some opinions from other people how to make fantasy believable and not “hokey.” A lot of the people in the discussion re-voice what I just touched on, especially creating your own characters and avoiding clichés such as questions in taverns or kidnapped princesses. However, there are a lot of difference opinions and perspectives on this thread that I think are valuable to someone trying to write fantasy.

One of the interesting points someone noted was to not create a world wildly different from our own. I think this definitely agrees with my point of allowing your reader to connect to the story. While you definitely want your world to be unique, having a world with no relatable concepts might be off-putting to the reader.

Another point which was reiterated throughout several posts was to just write a lot, put it aside, and read what you wrote a couple weeks later. After taking a break for a couple weeks it will probably be a lot easier to see any hokey or cheesy points in your story. There are also a lot of writing tips on this quora thread that are applicable to many more genres than fantasy, however, remember to take what everyone says with a grain of salt as it is based off their personal opinions.

[upperatm-blog]

Le Merde

It all started with a trip to the bathroom. That’s when he knew things wouldn’t go well on his date - his perfectly planned date. While the night was supposed to end with a midnight kiss atop a Ferris-wheel, Jeremy now sat bent over the toilet, hurling up the pasta he’d just eaten. 

He was thinking about how this restaurant was too nice to give him food poisoning, how there must have been something else making him sick. It simply couldn’t be the pasta, right?

Back in the kitchen, one of the Chefs had a worried look on his face. He wasn’t feeling quite right, and was looking for his usual medicine. The one that he always left in the same place, and told no one else to touch. A sweat ran down his neck as his eyes glanced around for the orange prescription bottle which only he could touch.

Jeremy wiped his mouth clean with toilet paper, and flushed his troubles down the drain. Now, he thought, he was definitely ready. He was once again thinking of the Ferris-wheel, and that oh-so-perfect moment. He gave his hands a rinse, and walked back into the restaurant.

Gentle harp plucking gently bounced off of the white table clothes around as Jeremy took his seat, “Sorry about that Lissa, where were we?”

“Well you were just telling me about…” Lissa paused for a moment, examining the pale color of his cheeks, “Jeremy. You don’t look well.”

Jeremy refused to have his night ruined by a bit of queeziness, and convinced her that he was fine. 

While they continued their conversation on the benefits of fruit infused waters, the Chef began to feel ever more uneasy. He tried to continue his work, chopping vegetables and preparing the meats, but his hands fumbled as his nausea intensified. Eventually the manager of Le Merde came in, and told the Chef to get out of the kitchen until he was feeling better.

The Chef walked out to his car, defeated by the day. He was feeling lightheaded, and wasn’t sure if he would be able to drive home. The thought of his family at home urged him forward, and his hands struggled to start his car. As he pulled out from his parking spot, he couldn’t believe that he had lost one of his Xelodas. That one pill was worth seventy dollars, and perhaps his life. He had some more at home, but his chemotherapy was meant to be taken at very specific times. He hoped that this irregularity wouldn’t ruin his progress, and worried about whoever had taken his medicine. 

By now, Jeremy too was on he road. He had his hand on Lissa’s thigh, and he couldn’t help but worry about what was happening to him. He was once again becoming sick, but this time he saw no bathroom to escape to. There would still be fifteen minutes more before they arrived at their destination, and Jeremy knew he wouldn’t be able to make it in time. While he drove onward, worrying about his date and his health, he saw a car begin to swerve into his lane. He braked hard, slamming his foot against the floor of his car, and the white Corolla next to him slammed into an electric line on the side of the road. 

“Oh my god,” Lissa yelled as Jeremy pulled over to the side of the road. He went over to examine the wreck, and saw a Chef with Le Merde embroidered on his white uniform. The Chef’s face was pale, and Jeremy immediately brought him into his car. 

He thought about calling 911, but by that time Jeremy was already on his way to the hospital with the stranger. As much as he wanted to control his own nausea, Jeremy’s body wouldn’t allow him to - he began throwing up on the steering wheel as Lissa sat in the back seat with a half-dead man on his lap. Her face was turning pale now to as she thought about the events unfolding. 

They arrived at the hospital, and the Chef was carted into a room of his own while Jeremy went directly to the bathroom. He spent the rest of the night drinking water and puking, until the morning came and he left the place with Lissa. The Chef did not.

[jlowen004]

The title was of your story was what immediately caught my eye at first, and then the main character’s name, of course. I can only hope this doesn’t happen to me.

Anyhow, I liked how you incorporated multiple perspectives into your story. The point of view from the chef’s perspective definitely adds to the tension building in the story. Based on that note, I would of perhaps liked to see a bit more perspective from the chef to really sell the building tension. Also, perhaps a few more comments from Lissa.

I also liked how you started and ended the story with the bathroom. The abrupt ending with the chef also definitely adds a shock factor. My one critique about the beginning was that I was slightly confused about the ferris wheel, as I thought that they already went to the amusement park. It took me a second to realize that was what he had planned.

The story is definitely thought provoking, and it made me wonder what the actual consequences are of missing a chemotherapy medication.

[jlowen004]

My Roommate (5.2)

It started with my roommate.

For who knows what reason, he got the idea that we should all go camping. And for who know what reason, I agreed. Come the week’s end, we drove off to our campsite. At first it was a pleasant experience. Enjoyable, I might even say. It was a clear day out, not a cloud in the sky. There was a slight breeze keeping us cool, and we were surrounded by tall, aesthetically pleasing trees. All was going far better than expected so far, until it got dark.

As the sun started to set we realized we still hadn’t set up our tent. This is where things started to take a turn for the worse. It took us over an hour to pitch our tent; every time we kept getting close it kept collapsing. After much struggle we finally got it standing, but we honestly should have taken that as a bad sign and just left.

As we finally sat down to make dinner, my roommate brought out canned food for us to eat. Upon opening the cans, the most rancid smell I’ve ever possibly had to endure took root in my nose, causing me to almost throw up. Leave it to my roommate to bring food which expired years ago.

So it was with an empty stomach that we attempted to go to sleep on the cold, hard ground. It was a restless night to say the least. I couldn’t wait for the sun to rise so we could finally just go home.

The moment the sun broke the horizon we packed up and went back to our car. As my roommate turned the key to start the car, a sound which I can only describe as a dying moose was emitted. The battery was dead. I’m pretty sure my roommate managed to leave a light on.

So there we were: starving, cold, and with no way home. What started out as a pleasant camping trip had turned into an unprecedented disaster. Furthermore, there was no reception for our cell phones – of course. Hence began our 10-mile hike to the nearest gas station.

After what seemed like an infinity we finally reached the gas station, and called for a ride home. After that experience, I think it’s safe to say I don’t plan on going camping again for a long time – at least with my roommate.

[jlowen004]

The Pain of Nothing (5.1)

“How has your day been?” Dave asked me at lunch?

“Pretty Shitty so far,” I replied. “I woke up this morning and poured myself a bowl of cereal, and then realized I had no milk.”

“Damn. That sucks. Have anything to eat since?

“Nope.”

“You should go buy some food.

“Perhaps I should,” I responded.

“Do anything exciting at work today?” Dave continued.

“Nope. Just the same old boring, usual stuff.”

“I image you’re exciting to go home then?” Dave kept quizzing.

“To be honest I’m pretty apathetic. The moment I go home I’m just going to make an unsatisfying dinner, go to bed, and then wake up and have to do it all over again.

“That’s no way to look at life,” Dave started lecturing.

“I suppose you’re just a glass half-full kind of guy, and I’m a glass half-empty kind of guy.”

[senpai-blau]

Star Wars RPS

Not too much is known about the fate of the three items: a post-it note, a candy jar, and a shoe. After all these are the items usually kept in the lowest and sketchiest of locations. A shoe– probably on the ground. Low-tier item. Candy jar? Eh maybe placed aside on a counter or so high up on the shelves that nobody can reach it except with a ladder. Inaccessible. Finally a post-it. I know I rarely use post-its. Once they stick they last for a minute or two and fall right out onto the ground with the shoe. So all of these items are either way too low or way too high.

One day, in a galaxy far far away, these three items managed to serve a purpose somehow for the stormtroopers residing on the Death Star. No mere human can understand how the candy jar can manage to survive a fall of several meters without being shattered to bits and pieces. Apparently when the three items are together they start to talk and argue. What we learn is that there appears to be a hierarchical system between the objects. Shoe claims to be better than the Post-it, because shoe rubs the post-it to the ground and never to be seen any more. Post-it is superior to the candy jar because a simple note can change the identity of the candy jar (i.e. cookie jar, pickle jar, etc). Finally candy jar, who is the worst at arguing, just says that he is better than shoe on the grounds of concealing shoe within the jar, taking him out of the fight.

Stormtroopers got suspicious of the three items. How are they together? How are they moving? Why do I hear sounds and noises? etc. They had to consult Ben. We know there is something called the “Force.” Let’s use the force in most awkward way possible: forcing (hehe pun intended) the objects to speak for themselves. Somehow it worked. Ben doesn’t know why. Maybe his command of the force was stronger than he thought. Or maybe Han Solo had an influence on it.

From that point on there was no more rock paper scissors. There was the shoe, post-it, and candy jar.

[jlowen004]

The day of battle had finally come. The Post-It notes had been training for months in preparation for an attack upon the candy jars in the Death Star. They were in top physical shape, and were experts at advanced tactical maneuvers by now. General Yellow was leading the attack, and he had his post-it notes lined up and ready to attack.

The Shoes waited in ambush in the corridors of the Death Star, having prepared for this day for months. They had received intel that the Post-It notes would be marching by this particular corridor tonight, and decided now was the time to strike. Now, all they had to do was wait.

The Candy Jars were strewn about their base lazily, having no sense of care or urgency. They had become dominant in the war with the Post-It notes and the Shoes in the previous months, and their success had made them careless. “General Glass!” one of the younger Candy Jars reported, “There have been reports of noises coming outside our encampment.”

“Eh, It’s probably nothing.” General Glass responded, and went back to lazing around the base.

“Charge!!!!” General Yellow yelled, as the post it notes began to rush towards the Candy Jars’ base, confident after their months of training. And then something was wrong. There was a disturbance at the front of their forces. They were being attacked – ambushed by the shoes.

They laid in perfect silence in the shadows of the hallway as the Post-It notes marched past, waiting for the order to attack. As soon as General Lace gave the order, they all rushed forward in unison, crashing into the Post-It note troops rushing toward the Candy Jars’ base.

“General Glass!” the younger Candy Jar reported again, “Our scouts have spotted a massive battle between the Post-It notes and Shoes outside our base. What should we do?”

“Let’s wait it out and see what happens.” General Glass Responded. “Prepare the troops for possible attack.”

It was a slaughter on the Post-It Note and Shoe battlefront. The Post-It Notes were completely unprepared for the ambush, and the Shoes’ fighting style was far dominant over the Post-It notes strategy of sticking to things. The Post-It Notes lost 80% of their forces and were in retreat, while the shoes only lost 5%. It was a glorious day indeed. At least they thought it was, until they suddenly heard noises from behind them.

“Attack!!” General Glass yelled, having waited for the battle between the Shoes and Post-It notes to be over before ordering his troops forward. It had been a massacre between the Shoes and Post-It notes form his vantage point, and he was hoping to have similar results.

As his troops defeated the last of the Shoes, General Glass thought about what this victory meant for the Candy Jars. The two other major forces in the Death Star had their numbers drastically reduced, and they were by far the most dominant faction in the Death Star now. This meant that the Candy Jars could relax almost all day, and General Glass couldn’t wait to return back to the base to take a long nap.

And that was the story of how Candy Jars became the dominant household object in a galaxy far, far away.

[jlowen004]

4.2

Henry worked at a thrift store. Every day he would get there before the sun rose, and set up shop by himself. His store was a small hole-in-the-wall establishment next to a bar, and it wasn’t uncommon for him to get drunk customers. His store attracted a whole variety of people, some people looking to buy random obscure objects, others looking to sell them. Often it would attract very eccentric people, full of piercings and tattoos.

It was only a few minutes after Henry opened the store when his first customer of the day walked in. He was an older man of wide girth, around his early 40’s, Henry guessed. He was dressed in what appeared to be an expensive suit, and walked with the gait of a man who was on a mission. Henry hoped he would spend a lot of money.

“How can I help you today?” Henry asked the man.

“I heard this establishment recently acquired a mint-edition, 1943 Candy Jar originally made by Hershey’s Chocolate” he pronounced in a booming voice. Henry wasn’t sure how the man had this, but he had indeed acquired a candy jar a few days ago.

“We have indeed!” replied Henry. “Let me show it to you!” As Henry walked the man over to the jar, he wondered how much he should charge the man for it. He obviously appeared to wealthy collector, and Henry figured he could charge a lot for it. He decided to ask for $200.

Before Henry could offer the price, however, the man exclaimed “I’ll offer you $1000 for it!” And with that Henry made his first $1000 of the day.

The next customer of the day was an attractive young female, who looked like she attended the college nearby. “How can I help you on this fine day?” Henry happily asked the woman.

“I’m looking for some post-it notes. I’ve gone through a ton studying for exams lately.” Just as I suspected, Henry thought to himself. He led the girl over to the post-it note section, and sold her several hundred of them. He only charged her a few dollars for them, as Henry liked helping the local students out.

As the day progressed, Henry continued to help people buy various odds and ends. As he prepared to close up shop, one final customer walked in. It was a woman perhaps in her 30’s, dressed in what Henry could only describe as scraps of clothing. Her hair was unkempt, and her figure was emaciated. Henry doubted she would spend much money. As the woman walked up to the counter, she offered up a box to Henry.

“I heard this shop is willing to buy things off people” she said as she opened the lid. Inside was a pair of dancing shoes, slightly worn around the edges, but still in excellent condition.

“Dancing used to be my life, my passion” she whispered to Henry. “Now these shoes are the only thing I have left, and they serve no purpose but to remind me of better times.”

Henry examined the woman’s face. She looked tired and defeated. Henry wasn’t a fan of buying such specific clothing apparel off people, but Henry did feel sympathy for her. Besides, he made a $1000 sale today off a candy jar he originally bought for $5.

“I’ll take almost any amount of money you offer for them” the woman begged. “I’m just hoping to be able to afford dinner tonight.”

“I’ll give you $1000 for them,” Henry proffered.

And with that, Henry closed up his shop for the day, a slight smile lingering on his face.

[jlowen004]

My Evening in a Coffee Shop (3.2)

As I walked into a coffee shop on a chilly Thursday afternoon, I wished to myself that we were assigned some other food establishment, as I’m not the biggest fan of coffee. Fortunately, it was conveniently located next to a bagel shop, which I quite enjoy.

Anyhow, as I took my seat and opened my laptop, I began to think about why people came to a coffee shop. I suppose some people actually enjoy the taste of such refreshments, but surely there are other reasons. Perhaps some people come for the environment, and enjoy the atmosphere a coffee shop offers. Or possibly they like the effects of caffeine, after all that’s the reason I drink coffee. So I decided I would make it my mission to transcribe the various reasons why people came to coffee shops.

To begin, a decent amount of people walked in, ordered coffee, and proceeded to leave. They were the people who were obviously here for their daily caffeine addiction, and seemed generally in a rush. What was much more interesting to observe was the people who chose to stay at the coffee house. Being in a college town, it wasn’t too surprising that most people who stayed were college students. Even less surprising was that most of them brought homework, after all that’s why I was there as well, although I doubted they realized my homework was to observe them. At least I hope. Most people brought laptops with them, some notebooks, and a few people flash cards. All in all, it was pretty boring experience so far. At least I had a delicious chocolate chip bagel with cream cheese to enjoy (would highly recommend to those who haven’t tried it), so it hadn’t been a total loss so far.

My assignment got slightly more exciting, albeit not much, when what appeared to be a professor walked in. At that point I hadn’t seen nearly as many adults walk in, and certainly not anyone who appeared to be a professor. I was starting to think that perhaps professors went to more expensive or exclusive coffee shops, because certainly they consume coffee. What made this particular observation exciting, however, was when a student their appeared to recognize said professor. Shortly after the professor ordered a drink and sat down, the student walked over and greeted him. I immediately wondered how the professor would react. Would he be happy to see one of his presumed students? Perhaps annoyed that someone was interrupting his work while he was off campus? Did he even know who this person was?

As it turned out, the professor certainly knew who the person was, and they began a conversation discussing the finer points of organic chemistry and polymer science, which appeared to be what the professors research involved. Having done a fair amount of research in organic chemistry myself, I found it to be a fascinating conversation. I briefly considered introducing myself and joining the conversation, but realized how that might come off as a bit creepy. The conversation shortly ended, and both parties returned to their respective studies.

As I scoured the room for my next literary piece, I ordered another bagel for consumption. Unfortunately, it was incredibly difficult to find anything noteworthy, although there was one somewhat stereotypical incident. A girl who I would describe as nothing other than “basic” ordered coffee, and sat down at a table conveniently next to me with her friends. She quite literally used the word “like” several times in every sentence, and quickly became the bane of my existence at the coffee shop. No assignment is worth having to endure such annoyance, and I considered packing up and leaving right then. However, I decided to take one for the team and finish the assignment out. The conversation turned to the topic of makeup, and at that point I was ready to call it a day as it was getting late out. Just as I was leaving, however, the previously described “basic” girl turned to me and asked if guys preferred some makeup style, which I frankly had no clue what she was talking about. Not wanting to start a detailed conversation with this girl at risk of driving myself crazy, but also wanting to disagree with the girl to deprive her of any satisfaction of the argument she was having with her friends, I confidently told her they didn’t, to which her friends replied with “I told you so!” The look of annoyance on her face was enough to make the whole experience worth it, and I went home with a smug smile on my face, as well as having the contentment of having enjoyed multiple delicious bagels. Overall, I would rate the experience a 5/10, would probably not do again, with the only real redeeming part of the assignment being the bagels.

[jlowen004]

As I walked into a coffee shop on a chilly Thursday afternoon, I wished to myself that we were assigned some other food establishment, as I’m not the biggest fan of coffee.  Fortunately, it was conveniently located next to a bagel shop, which I quite enjoy.

As I walked in the heavy aroma of coffee filled the air, which I found much more pleasant that the taste. Anyhow, as I took my seat and opened my laptop, I began to think about why people came to a coffee shop. I suppose some people actually enjoy the taste of such refreshments, but surely there are other reasons. So I decided I would make it my mission to transcribe the various reasons why people came to coffee shops.

To begin, I chose a table that was right in the middle of shop in order to have an optimal vantage point. Warm lights lit the establishment and illuminated the tile floor, making it seem like a cozy place compared to the darkness outside. A decent amount of people walked in, ordered coffee, and proceeded to leave.  They were the people who were obviously here for their daily caffeine addiction, and seemed generally in a rush. What was much more interesting to observe was the people who chose to stay at the coffee house. Being in a college town, it wasn’t too surprising that most people who stayed were college students. Even less surprising was that most of them brought homework, after all that’s why I was there as well, although I doubted they realized my homework was to observe them. At least I hope. Most people brought laptops with them, some notebooks, and a few people flash cards. All in all, it was pretty boring experience so far. At least I had a delicious chocolate chip bagel with cream cheese to enjoy (would highly recommend to those who haven’t tried it), so it hadn’t been a total loss so far.

My assignment got slightly more exciting, albeit not much, when what appeared to be a professor walked in. Admittedly, at first he just appeared to be a middle age man with his hair starting to gray. However, as soon as he opened his laptop and began reading chemistry articles I figured he was a professor. At that point I hadn’t seen nearly as many adults walk in, and certainly not anyone who appeared to be a professor.  I was starting to think that perhaps professors went to more expensive or exclusive coffee shops, because certainly they consume coffee from what I’ve seen. What made this particular observation exciting, however, was when a female student across the shop appeared to recognize him. Shortly after the professor ordered a large coffee and sat down, the student walked over and greeted him. I immediately wondered how the professor would react. Would he be happy to see one of his presumed students? Perhaps annoyed that someone was interrupting his work while he was off campus? Did he even know who this person was?

As it turned out, the professor certainly knew who the person was, and they began a conversation discussing the finer points of organic chemistry and polymer science, which appeared to be what the professors research involved. Having done a fair amount of research in organic chemistry myself, I found it to be a fascinating conversation. I briefly considered introducing myself and joining the conversation, but realized how that might come off as a bit creepy.

As I scoured the room for my next literary piece, I finally caved in and ordered a coffee for consumption. I was getting tired, and needed a little pick-me-up to finish out the assignment. Unfortunately, it was incredibly difficult to find anything noteworthy, although there was one somewhat stereotypical incident. A girl who I would describe as nothing other than “basic” ordered coffee, and sat down at a table conveniently next to me with her friends. I leaned back and sipped on my bitter coffee as I listened to their conversation, managing to burn my mouth on the scalding liquid as I always do.  The girl quite literally used the word “like” several times in every sentence, and quickly became the bane of my existence at the coffee shop. No assignment is worth having to endure such annoyance, and I considered packing up and leaving right then. The conversation turned to the topic of makeup, and at that point I was ready to call it a day as it was getting late out. Just as I was leaving, however, the previously described “basic” girl turned to me and asked if guys preferred some makeup style, which I frankly had no clue what she was talking about. Not wanting to start a detailed conversation with this girl at risk of driving myself crazy, but also wanting to disagree with the girl to deprive her of any satisfaction of the argument she was having with her friends, I confidently told her they didn’t, to which her friends replied with “I told you so!” The look of annoyance on her face was enough to make the whole experience worth it, and I went home with a smug smile on my face, and a slightly burnt mouth. Overall, I would rate the experience a 5/10, would probably not do again, with the only real redeeming part of the assignment being the bagels.

[linayu6-blog]

3.2 café

I was waiting in line to buy coffee. The girl stood behind me smells familiar. I can always smell people’s distinctive scent and decide my impression on them. The scent reminded me of someone, yet I could not remember who that was. I tried to see her face by pretending to look around randomly. It’s not someone I know. Still I tried very hard to search in my memory whom this familiar scent belongs to. It’s my turn to buy coffee. “Next!” “What can I get you?” The girl seemed really tired after a busy morning. “Americano double shots.” Usually I hate americano, it’s too bitter. “Can I get your name?” “Alex.” That’s my fake name only for coffee. I don’t really like telling them my real name. The girl wrote down my name on a new cup. “Your coffee will be ready over there.” Then she passed the cup to the coffee maker, “next!” That girl stood behind me was ordering with another waiter. I walked pass her and smelled again the familiar scent. Now I really wanted to remember who also shared the same scent. I’m no vampire nor weird stalker. Different scents are just the way I remember people. The impression of those scents seems last much longer than memory. I searched so hard in my mind tried to figure out the very person that I even missed the call of my fake name. That girl patted my shoulder, “I think that’s your coffee ready. Alex?” She smiled. Oh, they also shared the same fake smile, I thought. I smiled back to her and nodded, “oh, thanks.” And then I went to find a seat in the café. But I still have no idea who’s her doppelgänger. I was going to give up and concentrate on my due tonight homework. That girl sat next to me and got her notebook out. After a while, the couple of noisy girls came into the café and directly to that girl. “Happy birthday, Ellie!” “Oh~, thank you guys!” Ellie smiled happily to those girls. Today is 14th of June, she’s a Gemini. I suddenly remembered who she reminded me, the girl with the same scent, same smile, same way of talking. The girl who I tried very hard to get her heart, the girl I left without a proper goodbye, the girl who broke my heart. I left the café as fast as I could.

[jlowen004]

I like your style of narration and dialogue throughout the story. It definitely made it humorous to read the first part, especially the part about the fake name. Admittedly the scene at the end was somewhat abrupt and surprising, seeming somewhat rushed. Also, I really liked how you emphasized smell as an identifying characteristic, that definitely not something I think about all the time, and adds a unique element to your story.

[jlowen004]

My Evening in a Coffee Shop (3.2)

As I walked into a coffee shop on a chilly Thursday afternoon, I wished to myself that we were assigned some other food establishment, as I’m not the biggest fan of coffee. Fortunately, it was conveniently located next to a bagel shop, which I quite enjoy.

Anyhow, as I took my seat and opened my laptop, I began to think about why people came to a coffee shop. I suppose some people actually enjoy the taste of such refreshments, but surely there are other reasons. Perhaps some people come for the environment, and enjoy the atmosphere a coffee shop offers. Or possibly they like the effects of caffeine, after all that’s the reason I drink coffee. So I decided I would make it my mission to transcribe the various reasons why people came to coffee shops.

To begin, a decent amount of people walked in, ordered coffee, and proceeded to leave. They were the people who were obviously here for their daily caffeine addiction, and seemed generally in a rush. What was much more interesting to observe was the people who chose to stay at the coffee house. Being in a college town, it wasn’t too surprising that most people who stayed were college students. Even less surprising was that most of them brought homework, after all that’s why I was there as well, although I doubted they realized my homework was to observe them. At least I hope. Most people brought laptops with them, some notebooks, and a few people flash cards. All in all, it was pretty boring experience so far. At least I had a delicious chocolate chip bagel with cream cheese to enjoy (would highly recommend to those who haven’t tried it), so it hadn’t been a total loss so far.

My assignment got slightly more exciting, albeit not much, when what appeared to be a professor walked in. At that point I hadn’t seen nearly as many adults walk in, and certainly not anyone who appeared to be a professor. I was starting to think that perhaps professors went to more expensive or exclusive coffee shops, because certainly they consume coffee. What made this particular observation exciting, however, was when a student their appeared to recognize said professor. Shortly after the professor ordered a drink and sat down, the student walked over and greeted him. I immediately wondered how the professor would react. Would he be happy to see one of his presumed students? Perhaps annoyed that someone was interrupting his work while he was off campus? Did he even know who this person was?

As it turned out, the professor certainly knew who the person was, and they began a conversation discussing the finer points of organic chemistry and polymer science, which appeared to be what the professors research involved. Having done a fair amount of research in organic chemistry myself, I found it to be a fascinating conversation. I briefly considered introducing myself and joining the conversation, but realized how that might come off as a bit creepy. The conversation shortly ended, and both parties returned to their respective studies.

As I scoured the room for my next literary piece, I ordered another bagel for consumption. Unfortunately, it was incredibly difficult to find anything noteworthy, although there was one somewhat stereotypical incident. A girl who I would describe as nothing other than “basic” ordered coffee, and sat down at a table conveniently next to me with her friends. She quite literally used the word “like” several times in every sentence, and quickly became the bane of my existence at the coffee shop. No assignment is worth having to endure such annoyance, and I considered packing up and leaving right then. However, I decided to take one for the team and finish the assignment out. The conversation turned to the topic of makeup, and at that point I was ready to call it a day as it was getting late out. Just as I was leaving, however, the previously described “basic” girl turned to me and asked if guys preferred some makeup style, which I frankly had no clue what she was talking about. Not wanting to start a detailed conversation with this girl at risk of driving myself crazy, but also wanting to disagree with the girl to deprive her of any satisfaction of the argument she was having with her friends, I confidently told her they didn’t, to which her friends replied with “I told you so!” The look of annoyance on her face was enough to make the whole experience worth it, and I went home with a smug smile on my face, as well as having the contentment of having enjoyed multiple delicious bagels. Overall, I would rate the experience a 5/10, would probably not do again, with the only real redeeming part of the assignment being the bagels.