[kinniepika]

Week 13 Blog Prompt

Prompt: Please describe how you hope to proceed as a writer, what methods and interests you might continue, how you hope to move forward. Any reflection on the class experience is much appreciated, but I am most interested in your own thoughts about your role and hopes as a writer.

Writing is something that I've loved my entire life. I find it to be both therapeutic and rewarding, and I definitely have plans to continue writing in the future. While I'm in school to get my education degree, one of my goals in life is to write a book. I'm not sure how I'll fit that into my schedule quite yet, seeing as teaching is almost more than a full-time job considering all the work that needs to get done outside of the school day (grading, lesson plans, etc.). Nevertheless, I'm excited to continue writing, and I'm excited to teach writing to my future students. I'd love to teach a creative writing elective class along with my regular ELA classes, and I think that creative non-fiction writing and zine-making would make a really great activity for students. My interest in writing falls more toward fiction than non-fiction, but taking this class has made me appreciate non-fiction a lot more. Creative non-fiction has become one of my favorite things to write and the process of zine-making has been a really fun and rewarding one. I enjoyed it so much that I might keep making them after this class ends, just as a hobby. Staying motivated/inspired to write has always been somewhat of an issue for me, but I'm going to make more of an effort to write every day, whether it be short prompts like this one, writing in a journal, or starting a personal project.

[kinniepika]

Week 11 Blog Prompt

Prompt: Reflect on your “field methods” as deployed in class (observation, eavesdropping, physical presence, interviewing, etc). What felt comfortable? What seemed beyond your comfort zone? Are there ethical issues involved in these methods? What seemed fruitful to you?

For my interview, I chose to do it face-to-face. I think because me and Seth are friends and have been friends for a few years, that took a lot of the discomfort out of the experience. Much of what we discussed during the interview were conversations that we'd already had. I asked him pretty basic questions, like what his earliest memory was, his happiest and saddest days, what he's proud of, etc. The interview was conducted in his bedroom because it provided the most privacy. I felt that face-to-face was the most respectful mode of interviewing for the particular questions I was asking for a few reasons. It allowed me to gauge his comfort levels better because I could observe his body language, facial expressions, and the inflection in his voice. While a Zoom interview might have been effective in this way, I saw little point in doing that when he lives a ten-minute walk away from me. The gesture of spending personal time with him face-to-face rather than virtually seemed to me a good way to show that I value what he has to say. He consented to my recording the interview, so I had my voice memo app open while asking the questions. Overall, the whole experience felt pretty comfortable. Seth gave me some really good and thorough answers and the interview lasted nearly an hour. I asked about his comfort level with sharing some personal details, and he was completely fine with it. Looking back, I think I should have run the questions by him beforehand because I think a couple of them took him by surprise or were a bit too open-ended for him to have an immediate answer. There were a couple questions that initially had him stumped. Additionally, not that I don't love his tangents, but I think if I had run the questions by him a day or so prior to the interview, much of the information he ended up giving me that was irrelevant to the initial question could have been avoided. There were times during the interview when I struggled not to show emotional reactions to what he was saying and I wasn't sure what an appropriate reaction would really be. I opted to mostly just nod and attentively listen, letting him do all the talking, and try not to let too much emotion show on my face. I'm not sure how comfortable he is with other people making comments about his parents since that can be a very touchy subject, and I wanted to avoid offending him in that way. Still, I think I definitely let my anger/frustration at his treatment show a few times, whether that be a shake of the head in disbelief, an audible reaction like a muttered "wow" or "Jesus," widening of the eyes, etc. Still, despite this, Seth seemed very comfortable talking about his past and the way he was raised, which I'm grateful for.

[kinniepika]

Week 10 Blog Prompt

Prompt: Check out the "Cartonera" movement! I find its DIY sensibility to be full of energy and very applicable to a world full of cast-off material. What do you think of this work? Do you have thoughts about the future of the book? How do these folk-forms (similar to folk art) fit into global political movements? Does this kind of thing have any impact on what you might do or teach in the future? 

I find the Cartonera movement to be extremely fascinating in all aspects! The fact that it started as such a small project and expanded across Latin America is so cool to me, especially considering its political roots and how it was born out of the working class. The issue of poverty is a global one, which I think is why this movement resonates so strongly across the world. We see poverty every day in large metropolitan areas, and the cost of living continues to rise as wages are stagnant. To take what many consider to be garbage and turn it into art is powerful. To embrace the label of "catador" or "waste-picker" is also a powerful social/political tool. Movements such as the Cartonera movement do wonders to raise awareness about poor living conditions while also providing affordable literature to those who otherwise wouldn't have access to it. I also find it amazing that the project is still ongoing and has only continued to grow. I hope it persists far into the future, though I obviously hope for better living conditions for the working class in Latin America as well. This is something that I'd love to bring to my future classroom; I could see a project like this being fun, engaging, and effective at teaching about global issues. It would give students the opportunity to be hands-on in their learning, as well as creative. If I were to introduce a lesson like this, I would most likely show my students the two videos linked in Canvas to my class first, then facilitate discussion. We'd spend a few days talking about the movement and making connections to our own lives/experiences, and the living conditions we see in U.S. metropolitan areas. I'd have them think about the ways we place value on certain things over others. Then, I'd have them do their own cardboard covers, providing art supplies and photocopied literature to put on the inside. There would be some sort of debrief or discussion the following day about how/if their perspectives changed at all about what has value, what we take for granted in our everyday lives, etc. There is so much value in a lesson plan like this, and I think it would be well-received by students.

[kinniepika]

Week 8 Blog Prompt

Prompt: Write a thoughtful and in-depth response to Notes From the Underground. Focus on one or two points that Duncombe makes about zine culture and its practitioners and/or any aspect of zines or zine culture that he mentions that sparks your interest. 

While Notes From the Underground was quite dense in terms of the amount of information presented, it kept my attention the whole way through. Having little to no knowledge about zine culture before reading this book, it goes without saying that I learned a lot from it. One point that Duncombe reiterates throughout the book that I found intriguing was the fact that the underground relies on the greater society it resists in order to exist. This point is what sparked my interest the most while reading since it's so paradoxical, and there's not really a solution to it either. For instance, Duncombe brings this up in chapter four, which is about work; he says "As long as the rest of the world isn't made up of slackers, slacking is made easier," in relation to the celebration of leisure amongst zinesters (Duncombe 100). This, especially presently because of the unlivable wages many my age are offered, resonated with me and gave me a lot to think about. I know I am not alone in wishing to pursue a life of leisure, but that isn't possible without others there to pick up the slack. Duncombe also reiterates throughout the book that he is not criticizing these aspects of zine culture, but is merely pointing out the contradiction. The idea of "negative identity" is related to this as well, something that Duncombe brings up again and again. "Negative identity" refers to the ways in which the underground identifies themselves as "outside" greater society, thus still linking their identity to the outside world (93). It's an interesting point to consider, and I'm glad that Duncombe brings it up in many of the chapters. One of the most interesting chapters to me was chapter 7, "Purity and Danger," as it expands on this idea of negation as it relates to the underground's discovery by mass media/dominant society. It also describes another paradox of the underground: that of obscurity and "selling out." Duncombe refers to the underground's romanticization of obscurity/purity as its "fatal flaw," as obscurity eventually leads to a fizzling out, and those part of the underground turn to the culture industry as a means of networking (182). This, again, proves that the underground relies upon outsiders to sustain its existence. The topic of negative identity as well as obscurity is one that I would love to explore more, though I think Duncombe does a great job laying groundwork on the topic and provides a good introduction to it.

[kinniepika]

Week 7 Blog Prompt

Prompt: Work on developing fragments of your text for No Ideas But In Things. Take a thing or place or character sketch that you haven't yet fully developed and riff on it... experiment around it... play with it. Think like a musician and "sound out" different possibilities inherent in a particular musical sequence as you try to fine tune the language. Push this! Be creative and try some things! "Play" is the operative word! 

I'll be honest, I'm still in the beginning stages of my draft. I'm writing about some general feelings and experiences I've had as a result of my mom passing away in my childhood, mostly about the way that grief has distorted my memories from before she died. One thing I mention is my middle school guidance counselor and the grief group she placed me in, and I think I want to expand on this a bit more in my piece, so that's what I'll be doing for this blog post.

Sitting in Ms. Pierce's cramped office, 13-year-old me would have liked to be anywhere else. The same woman who had made me change into ugly pairs of shorts from the lost & found on multiple occasions because mine were too short sat across from me at her desk, smiling in the least comforting way possible as she explained to me that she was putting me in a grief group of sorts. "Comfort Food Group," she called it. I could barely focus on what she was saying due to the spit bubbling at the corners of her mouth and her unbearable lisp. I didn't need to be in grief group. I was fine, over it. It had been two years since she died, and I was over it.

The atmosphere in the small room was anything but comforting. Fluorescent lighting filled the space, along with uncomfortable foldable chairs arranged in a circle around a table filled with various snacks. Comfort foods. The group was called Comfort Food Group so the school receptionist would have something discrete to say over the speaker when we were supposed to meet for group. Chips, brownies, and cookies sat on the table, yet no one reached for them. There were about 15 of us altogether. A mix of 7th and 8th graders. None of us wanted to be there. Ms. Pierce was there too, trying her best to lighten the mood with small talk and offering up the food that sat on the table. A few kids reluctantly reached for a cookie or a brownie, though I think most of us were too uncomfortable to do anything but sit. Eventually, as everyone settled, Ms. Pierce formally began the meeting, asking us to go around the circle and share our names, which parent died, when they died, and optionally, how they died. I did not share how my mom died. I wouldn't tell anybody that for years and years to come. There was only one other kid who didn't tell how his parent had died. I wondered if we were the same, if he had gone through what I went through. At 13 years old, it was all too much to say out loud, to admit to anybody. I bounced my leg up and down and sat with my hands under my thighs, only half listening as Ms. Pierce droned on about the five stages of grief. Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. I had no idea which one I fell under.

Now, I can confidently say that I still don't know. Thinking of grief as "stages" seems useless to me. It's a cycle, more than anything. It never goes away, following behind me everywhere I go. I've learned to live with it, to cope with it in any way I can. It ebbs and flows, recedes and advances with little warning. I can brace myself for it on birthdays, holidays, milestones, and anniversaries. It also has a tendency to show up out of nowhere, something I've come to know as a grief burst. I give no thanks to Ms. Pierce for learning to deal with this. I can only thank myself, and time.

[kinniepika]

Week 6 Blog Prompt

Prompt:

Go to the excellent website, "Brevity", and read at least 3 nonfiction flash narratives. (Poke around the site a bit!) Write about one of them in terms of structure, plot, form and meaning. How do you relate as a writer to the work (or works) that you read? In your analysis of a story, does it have something like the "5 S's" we heard about on the Flash Fiction Video. we watched in class? (Setting, Situation, Sensory detail, Simile, Shift)... (Remember that "Situation" was some kind of conflict or thwarted desire, and should be hooked in very early in the narrative, and that "Shift" was some kind of change, often internal, that happens to the character.

Welcome to the Grotto written by B.J. Hollars is the first-person narrative of a father (the author) and his seven-year-old daughter dealing with the grief of losing a family member, namely the father's father-in-law and the daughter's grandpa. The story starts out in Dickeyville, WI, three weeks before the death of the father-in-law, as the two of them walk through a grotto built by a priest in the early 1900s. This is a side note, but I was aware of this grotto's existence before reading this story, and learned about it from one of my professors for an academic writing class I took last year. I just thought that was an interesting connection, especially since it's a small place that not many people know about, but I digress. The father buys a worry stone for his daughter in the gift shop at the back of the grotto, which appears later in the story a few times. In terms of structure, the piece is broken into three sections: the grotto, the father-in-law's last night of life, and the next morning. The worry stone makes an appearance in each section, serving as an anchor for both the daughter and the father in their time of grieving. Hollars also taps into the senses liberally, describing the grotto in great and accurate detail, even going into the history behind it. He also describes the setting of the father-in-law's room in great detail, mentioning personal details like the song playing at the time, the bowl of watermelon, the half-eaten bag of potato chips, the "crumb-lined knife," and more. At the end of the story, the father asks his daughter if he can borrow the worry stone, and she slips it into his hand before they get ready for the morning ahead of them. The story is full of heartwrenching imagery brought to life through Hollar's use of language. For instance, the line "All I will remember is how my daughter placed her faith in the tangible, gripping tight to the hand that could not return the grip" paints a vivid scene full of emotion, tapping into the feeling of desperately holding on to something that will soon be gone. This story made me feel a lot of emotions about my own grief and how I can possibly depict this in a narrative of my own. I loved that the worry stone was a reoccurring object that tied the sections together, as well as the choice to focus on the daughter throughout the story rather than himself. Focusing on her grief, resilience, and strength adds another layer of emotion to the story, a little girl losing her grandpa all too soon.

[kinniepika]

Messy Sandwich

Hi, guys! This is a short piece I wrote in the style of an urban drift, or "derive" as the French say. It follows me, though it's in 2nd person, on my journey through a popular campus area. If you're interested, the piece will be below the cutoff :)

Messy Sandwich

The shuttle is bumpy, loud, and a sensory nightmare, but it could be worse. For one, “Irreplaceable” by Beyonce is playing over the radio, a song from your childhood, and the lyrics still come to you naturally. For once, the other passengers are quiet, as well. Usually, you make it a point to wear earbuds on the shuttle in order to drown out others’ conversations and the loud crashing sounds that the shuttle makes when passing over even the smallest cracks in the road, but something compelled you not to this morning. Beyonce’s doing a fine job keeping you calm, anyways, though you know that you’re going to be hearing to the left, to the left, everything you own in the box to the left in your head for the rest of the day. You also managed to snag a window seat and are admiring the beautiful scenery surrounding campus, like the unidentifiable creature (maybe a creepy dog?) saying “happy birthday” that someone has taken great pains to draw on the glass of a bus shelter you pass along your route. The drawing perplexes you as you squint to read the words better, but the shuttle leaves as soon as the light turns green, forcing you to forget about it. You have an hour to kill before you need to be at work, and you have no real destination in mind in the meantime. All you know is that you’re hungry, and it’s lunchtime, so lunch it is.

You get off the shuttle at the Kenilworth stop and make a beeline for Beans & Barley. There are about a million old people standing in the parking lot, which confuses you, but you pay it no mind while walking through the doors. It’s not exactly bustling inside, but not exactly slow either, and the workers are all busy, so you wait at the register for someone to take your order. A tall, lanky cashier with stretched ears and a cute smile finally greets you, and you proceed to order. “And what’s the name for that?” the cashier asks.

“Athena. A-T-H-E-N-A,” you say, spelling it out for clarity’s sake over the symphony of music, customer’s conversations, and the noise coming from the kitchen.

“Thank you, that’s such a pretty name!” he tells you, and the compliment brings a smile to your face. Though you hear it often, it’s still something you never quite get used to.

“Aw, thank you!” you say, exchanging smiles, then you finish the rest of the transaction and peruse the store’s many knick-knacks as you wait. You come across a bunch of candles decorated with celebrities depicted as saints. For some reason (lesbianism), you’re drawn to the Nicole Kidman candle. You entertain this thought no further lest you pull out your wallet.

You take your sandwich and hot apple cider outside and sit at one of the small tables near the entrance. It’s windy and a little cold, but the apple cider keeps you warm while you struggle not to make a mess on the table of pesto mayo and tomatoes. Many people come and go as you eat your lunch; you witness a kiss between two boys your age which warms your cold, dead heart, especially after one wishes the other a happy birthday. You silently wish them a happy birthday as well and watch as the group of friends departs from their lunch gathering. Later, you witness a father and daughter leave the store. The dad lets his daughter, who can’t be older than 6 or 7, try and push the door open. She tries her hardest but ends up falling into a fit of giggles as the door doesn’t budge. Her dad pushes the door open, surprised at the effort it takes. “Looks like the wind was working against us!” he says to her, laughing. You make eye contact with him, to which you smile at each other and laugh as his daughter continues to be a goofball. You finish your sandwich shortly after and get up to leave, thinking you may go to Beard MKE next. You always pass the storefront on the shuttle ride to Cambridge and have been curious about it for quite some time, but have never gone inside. It’s not even a block away, so you approach it rather quickly and enter.

It's just you inside, not counting the employee behind the counter who greets you enthusiastically. “This is my first time coming in here,” you say, and the employee smiles.

“Well, I’m super glad you chose to stop by. Pretty much, we’re just a queer-friendly shop with lots of fun stuff to choose from. I’ll be here if you have questions,” he says, and you get to it. You look at everything the store has to offer, encountering candles with silly phrases on the jars, Milwaukee merchandise, and lots of stoner humor. You pick out two pairs of socks, one leopard print pair, and one pair with sharks. You bring them up front, awkwardly setting them on the counter. You really wish there were other customers in the store to ease some of the social anxiety you’re feeling, but it doesn’t matter all that much. You make the purchase and leave, but not before telling the employee thank you and to have a good day.

By this time, you decide you might as well start heading to work, so you continue in the direction of Cambridge. It’s not long before you’re stopped by a homeless man outside a bus stop asking for resources. Earbuds usually give you a way out of these situations, but today you decided not to wear them, so you stop and talk with him.

“I might have a few coins, but no cash. Is that still helpful for you?” you ask, reaching to pull your wallet back out of your backpack. Suddenly, he lifts his thumb to the corner of his mouth to mimic wiping food from the area.

“Hon, you’ve gotten something on your face,” he says, and your stomach drops. You immediately take the back of your free hand and wipe at your mouth, horrified at what comes back. Tomato and pesto mayo. A lot of it. You begin to reevaluate every interaction you’ve had in between finishing your lunch and this revelation.

“Oh my god, that’s so embarrassing,” you say, laughing awkwardly.

“Other side, too, girl,” he says, and you feel like you could die of embarrassment.

“Thanks for telling me, Jesus, that’s been there for a while.” You go back to digging in your wallet for change, and come back with a quarter, a couple nickels, and a couple of pennies. You sigh, hoping that there would be more, but give the change to the man anyways. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help more.”

“God bless you, hon, you helped more than you know,” he says, and you go your separate ways.

For some reason, that makes you feel a little better. You hope that someone else has more to offer him. You don’t dwell on it for too long, though; you have a shift to get to, after all, so you continue on your way.

 Now, as you watch the storm rage on from the safety of the Cambridge Restor, you think of him.

[kinniepika]

Week 5 Blog Prompt

Prompt:

1) Find at least four small objects around your house, yard, garage, basement, car, etc.

2) Using concretely descriptive language, write about them, and the world immediately surrounding them. Feel free to extrapolate ideas about their function and use and place in society. Feel free to incorporate research about them, as long as you maintain the descriptive clarity of your prose.

3) Develop some action centered around a person's use or relationship with at least two of the objects you have described. Use only language that is verifiable by concrete observation. You are creating a "character sketch" by animating a person through an object, as well as animating an object through its use or meaning to that character.

The objects I've chosen are a bundle of dried sage, a volleyball, a lucky cat figurine, and pepper spray.

a) The bundle of dried sage is held together with multi-colored string haphazardly tied around it. It lies horizontally atop a textbook on a shelf in our living room, surrounded by various card games, plants, and decorations. The only indication that it has ever been used is the blackened leaves at the very top of the bundle; it doesn't look like it was burned for very long, though, as the bundle is still quite large. Dried sage leaves are typically bundled together like this for spiritual usage, such as clearing bad energy or spirits from a space during a practice commonly called "smudging." Holding a shell bowl, or any fire-resistant bowl, directly underneath the bundle, one lights the top of the sage leaves on fire. The flame is then blown out, and the person holding the bundle goes to each corner of the room, making sure to wave the smoke throughout the entirety of the space. The bowl collects the ashes as they move throughout the room, and this act of smudging cleanses the space. As for this bundle of sage, it sits on our shelf, collecting dust. b) A green, purple, and white striped volleyball lay abandoned in our backyard. It lay atop a bed of weeds on our unkempt, overgrown lawn. It can't have been laying out there for more than a week, as it is pumped with air and seems gently used. The green and purple stripes are vibrant, and the white stripes are practically unblemished. It looks out of place surrounded by old, stained lawn chairs and tools that haven't been touched in ages yet have faced the elements day after day. c) A mini pepper spray canister hangs from a hook at the entrance to our home, right next to the front door for quick and easy access if the need were to arise. It is black in color, sleek and matte. There are a few different kinds of pepper spray canisters; this one was designed with a cap of sorts that you're meant to flip up when you want to use it. We keep it by the front door in case of a home invasion, though I'm not sure that it has ever been used. d) Upon my dresser sits a miniature lucky cat figurine. It has its paw raised up by its ear, wrist bent, in the classic pose of a lucky cat. While it is gold and shimmery, it's been painted this color; many lucky cats are shiny and reflective gold or made of ceramic, or porcelain. This lucky cat is likely carved of wood and painted. It has a red collar with a golden bell, though the bell is painted the same color as its body, so it blends in. There is a Chinese symbol written on its belly in black, which has a circle around it. Next to the lucky cat is a standard Rubix cube, slightly taller than the cat and much wider. The lucky cat is one of many items on the cluttered dresser top; I don't remember how it even came to be in my possession.

a) When she initially bought the sage stick, she didn't think that she'd actually ever have to use it. The purchase was frivolous and impulsive, like many of her purchases tended to be, and was the result of a short-lived peaked interest in spirituality. She realized how wrong she had been as she walked through her house directing the thick, fragrant sage smoke in every which way, however. She started at the front door, moving slowly throughout her home in a calculated, careful, deliberate manner. Embers burned brightly at the end of the bundle, ash occasionally falling into the bowl she held below it. Reaching the kitchen, she kept her pace, moving slowly and directing the smoke in all corners of the room. The air grew thicker the longer she went on, and she felt like she was choking with each breath. Still, she kept on, and moved from the kitchen to the hallway that led toward the bathrooms and bedrooms. She repeated the process in the remaining rooms of the house, taking care to make sure every nook and cranny was cleansed with the smoke. The air was almost unbreathable, though she could already feel the negative energy in the house subsiding. Sighing in relief, she snuffed out the embers still glowing, and placed the sage back where she had found it sitting in the living room. The worst of it seemed to be over. b) The group of friends passed the volleyball between them, laughing as it went flying every which way. None of them were professional volleyball players, not by any means, but they were having fun nonetheless. The backyard was not exactly spacious, and it was cramped with just the four of them, so keeping the ball in control was near impossible. Still, it was fun to pass back and forth, even when the ball came spinning toward someone's face. There were times when the ball would fly so far that it would land in the alley behind the backyard, and they would take turns running to fetch it. They berated whoever was responsible for ending the round, though this was all in good fun. Sometimes, the group of friends would manage to keep a round going for longer than a couple passes, which would cause them to hyperfocus on keeping the ball in the air. Inevitably, someone would hit the ball so out of bounds that it was impossible for anyone to hit it back, ending the round, and the cycle would continue until the friends eventually got tired. Nobody bothered to put the ball back where it belonged, forgetting about it completely once their minds were made up about going inside. It lay abandoned in the overgrown grass.

[kinniepika]

Week 4 Blog Prompt

Prompt: Write about Lydia Davis’ book; her style, strategies, narrative quality. Focus on one or two specific entries, or a specific aspect that appears throughout the book. Reflect on her use of form, as well as her "voice" and style. While her writing may or may not be appealing to you, ask yourself "what can I take from this author for my own writing?"

Lydia Davis's "Varieties of Disturbance" is unlike anything I have ever read. The stories in this collection are relatable yet impersonal; she writes about the mundanities of everyday life and often employs a very dull, stream-of-consciousness style of narration. The stories vary greatly in length and style, as well, ranging from only a couple of lines to over 10 pages. One thing that I noticed was that most of the longer pieces, such as "We Miss You: A Study of Get-Well Letters from a Class of Fourth-Graders" and "Helen and Vi: A Study in Health and Vitality" take the classic form of the scholarly article/case study that us college students all know and love. While I did not enjoy reading either of these pieces due to how long and tedious they were, I still found the humor and creativity in using this form to write about these topics. For the purposes of this blog post, however, I will only be focusing on the former aforementioned story. Davis takes a concept that many of us are familiar with, that being writing letters for a classmate experiencing hardship, and presents it in the form of a case study. She adopts the tone of a researcher in the piece and quantifies things like the frequency of certain phrases, grammatical errors, etc. in the students' letters. She sorts her analysis of the letters under subheaders such as "Length," "Sentence Structures," "Formulaic Expressions of Sympathy," etc. The analysis is quantitative in nature and thus lacks a narrative structure. There is definitely humor, albeit dry humor, in analyzing children's get-well letters in this way, and the letters themselves resemble children's writing incredibly well. Davis is able to mimic the way children write letters by calling attention to the way they tend to jump from topic to topic with little to no transition, as well as their very limited knowledge of sentence structure. Combining the familiarity of learning to write letters as a child with the familiar structure of a case study/linguistic analysis is both clever and humorous, and while I personally found this piece hard to get through because of the monotony, I can still appreciate the vision. This juxtaposition of genres is something I want to try in my own writing at some point.

[kinniepika]

Week 2 Blog Prompt

Prompt: Describe in detail observations about books and/or printed matter...  sensual things about objects, not the stories they contain. If you have an old book or crummy magazine, take it apart like an archeologist and analyze how it is made. Observe closely and describe it as if it is an alien object and you are experiencing it for the first time. 

I remove the smooth, shiny cover sleeve off of the book for quite possibly the very first time and am greeted with a vibrant cobalt blue and canary yellow hardcover underneath. Running my fingertips over the surface, I notice that the texture is not dissimilar to that of paper, yet possibly a bit smoother to the touch. There is no tooth, and my fingers barely make a sound upon its surface. I knock on the surface a few times and hold the book up to my ear as I try to guess the material it is made out of, thinking it may be a sturdy cardboard of some kind. I flip the cover over, officially opening the book, and find a blank, white piece of paper attached to the other side. I notice that underneath this white paper, the blue and yellow of the cover continues, excess folded over the corners and edges and seemingly kept in place by this piece of paper. It's clearer to me, now, that the vibrant blue and yellow of the hardcover must be covering the base material. I consider my exploration of the outside of this book finished and instead open its pages to near the middle. Letting the book lie flat on the counter, I observe how the pages stay put, allowing for an easy read. Even as I change the page I am on to be more toward the beginning or the end, the pages stay right where I want them. The pages themselves have more texture than the material overtop the hardcover; looking very closely, fibers are visible to me, and it is evident that the surface is not completely smooth. The entire book is 516 pages long, and the spine is around an inch to an inch and a half in length. Examining the pages more closely, they appear to be held together in smaller sections, almost like booklets, then glued to the spine. I hold the book up for closer inspection, counting the number of sections the book is comprised of just out of curiosity; if I've counted correctly, there are 17 separate booklets of pages, each one containing about 30 pages of text. Together, all of these little booklets form a full novel that is sturdy, compact, and functional, which is amazing to me! I find that I have a much better grasp on the process that goes into the physical making of a book, or any printed object, for that matter, than I did before doing this exercise. I want to do this again with different kinds of printed media, like paperback novels and magazines.

[kinniepika]

Week 1 Blog Prompt

My name is Athena, and my pronouns are they/them/theirs. I am an English Education major about to enter the School of Education, and I am very excited for everything this class has to offer! If I were to pick something that I dislike about starting new courses, however, it would be all the nerves that come with the start of a semester. The start of the semester is something that can be quite anxiety-inducing for me, as it is hard to know what to expect until the first day of classes. This is why I always hope for a smooth, calm start to the school year. This year, in particular, I hope things go smoothly, as it is my first time renting, and I am currently stressed with budgeting and managing my money better. Money is always a stressor for me, as I don't exactly have an abundance of it, but with responsible budgeting, I think I'll manage. Despite this, my money issues do not affect my access to technology or internet connection, luckily. The only obstacle I am worried about at the moment is the amount of money I'll be spending on printer ink and copy paper in order to complete zine assignments and such. Besides this, I do not anticipate there being other barriers for me this semester. One aspect of this course that does make me a bit anxious is the prospect of sharing my writing with my peers; it is not something I am used to doing, and I can become quite self-conscious when the time for critique arises. That being said, I have little issue giving constructive criticism, and I am sure that the more often we do critiques in class, the more prepared I will be to share my own writing and receive critiques from my peers! I am excited to hear my peers' stories and look forward to workshops, regardless of my own anxieties. I love to hear fun personal stories, especially humorous ones, so I hope that is something we will write about in future prompts or zine assignments. Thank you for taking the time to get to know me as a student!

[kinniepika]

Introductory Post

Hi, everyone!

Just so you know what you're getting into before following this blog, I have created this space as part of a class I'm taking this Fall semester. Every week, I'll post a prompt and my response to the prompt. The class focuses mainly on creative nonfiction, so if that's up your alley, welcome! Enjoy your stay, and come watch me learn all about creative nonfiction writing, printing, publishing, and the creation of zines!