Rhetorical Analysis of Publication Venues

Drunken Boat

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Call for Submissions: First Peoples, Plural: Drunken Boat is now accepting submissions for its “First Peoples, Plural” folio, to debut in issue #13 this winter. We will be considering poetry, fiction, creative non-fiction, essays, visual art, sound art, video art, and web art by indigenous people worldwide. Our goal is to present a wide scope of work from a wide scope of people. Works might explore native identity and aesthetic (and their evolution), family, spirituality, sexuality, passing, othering, exoticism, and the media. Please indicate the genre of your piece in the comments section.

Call for Submissions: The Bernadette Mayer Folio: Bernadette Mayer's writing experiments, from the 1970s to the present, challenge artists to change the world. We are looking for art and writing that responds to this notion and/or to Bernadette Mayer. Your response can be written, performance-based, filmed, recorded, visual. We seek responses through any medium, and encourage media projects. Consider ways in which your response might operate at the intersection of conceptual art, performance and experimental work. Deadline: April 15, 2011

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Presentation:

-  analysis of the editors description of essays accepted in the journal/magazine: Unique, real life, odd and very personal.

- description of several representative essays published in the targeted venue; this description should take into consideration:

• subject matter - Very different types of non-fiction stories. (i.e The Red Shoe Episode)
• voice/tone – Pretty serious and satirical (i.e The Empathic Traveler)
• form - It varies in form especially in length. Some of the stories are cheerful while some were dark and gloomy.
• artistry – They could be described as being very surreal and unique.
• length: Fiction & Nonfiction: No more than 5000 words, unless you first query the genre editor via the above editor’s address.

Essay #4

She Needs Wide Open Spaces, Room to Make Her Big Mistakes...

It was November 6th, 1994 and they had ordered my favorite vanilla cake filled with bananas, strawberries and vanilla custard, all covered in Vanilla frosting. It had taken so long for her to have found the perfect birthday dress but she had finally managed to find one that fit me best. The stereo needed new double A batteries so as always, he ran to the store to buy more in order for us to be able to dance on my birthday. I was the youngest of 4 and as the baby, my parents would give me everything I ever needed with great expectations of my future. I had a mother who put me first before anyone else and a father who worked very hard to get my family and I out of the slums of Peru. As I sat down in front of my vanity table awaiting for my friends to come over, I began to look at myself wondering when I'd grow up to live my life beyond the cage that my parents had built for me. I had it all but I never really had a life to live. My sisters and brother were old enough at this point to be responsible for themselves and to make decisions on their own. However in my parent's eyes, being able to decide anything for yourself would only be permitted when you could leave the house and live entirely on your own. This stage finally happened to my oldest sister at the age of 26 when my father had finally allowed her to marry. My family did not care too much for her husband and the day she married him was the day that my mother dreaded till this very day. I continued to sit there thinking to myself whether or not I could ever live my only life the way that I truly wanted to live it. Even at 8 years old I had become curious in thinking what I would be in the future. However my future was not to make my own self proud, but to make my parents proud of me.

They say that your family is all there is and that when you need something to fall back on, your family will always be there to catch you. But what of the family who makes you fall on purpose? What about the family who only wants what's best for them? My parents had a very special way of loving and caring for me. I was the child who lived in a bubble. I could not see evil, could not hear evil nor could I even speak evil for a mere second. I was a precious flower to whom my parents cared for more than their own lives. As I grew older and had become more and more cooped up under their wings, I began to watch as my siblings rebellious stages progressed. My oldest sister married a much older man who my parents did not really approve of, my second sister dated a "good for nothing Puerto Rican" (as they liked to call him) and would skip her high school classes every other day. My brother was a special case because ultimately he was my father's biggest responsibility. My brother had dropped out of school to enter himself into military school. One of my father's most memorable moments since he was a former Marine himself. But it all came to a rushing halt when my brother would not exceed his training nor would he enlist due to a girl he had met. My parents were going insane with all the crazy things that they were all doing. But as the youngest child at 15, I was just sitting pretty, getting exceptional grades, making honor roll every single semester and never getting into any sort of trouble. That was me. I always wanted to be the best. The best that they could ever want in a child. But as I got older, I began to realize that the best was never going to be enough for them.

I was now 18 years old and it was the proudest moment for my parents to see me walking towards the stage to receive my diploma from Woodbridge High School class of 2005. I had graduated with honors and I was eager to start my life as a college student. Little did I know that it was not going to be easy. My parents did not want to hear the words "move" or "out" in the same sentence much less "boy" and "friend." I had never done anything in my whole adolescent life to disappoint my parents because I always wanted them to be proud of me. But I came to a rude awakening when another person had come into my life who much later would replace them, in their eyes. His name was Matt and he was my first love. Up until graduation, I had never really had a serious boyfriend nor was it a planned act to have one right before college. But it was inevitable the way my parents reacted to the news. My father was in denial and would always call him my "friend" and my mother would keep close watch on us making sure I'd be home no later than 10 o'clock at night. I was 22 now and this was still an on-going trend. My siblings were now older and each making their own lives with their families…far away. My oldest sister moved away to California making it that much harder to keep in contact with and my brother moved away to another town becoming closer and closer to his wife's family in result of the hatred my mother had towards her. My second sister was the only one who stuck around, visiting us once a week with her husband who mother actually approved of. What happened to the "good for nothing Puerto Rican" you ask? Well, let's just say my parents could not bare the thought of one their own marrying such a loser so they had taken matters into their own hands and forced my sister and him to let go of each other. The maltreatment and the many times my mom had kicked Jess out from our house seemed enough  one night when she could not take anymore of it and broke it off with Hector. I was their last baby bird who had yet to spread her wings.

As the last unmarried child, I had responsibilities that I had to take up in helping my parents out at their old age. From doctor's appointments to translating (my mother was not fluent in English) to transportation, I had to be there to help out in any way that I could. Which now comes as no shock to me that I would later become the biggest disappointment in my parent's eyes. As I had mentioned before, Matt was my first love and with 3 years down the drain due to an unhealthy relationship, my parents could not have been happier the day that I got rid of the guy who I once loved with all my heart. I remember the big smile my father had from ear to ear as I sat there in the kitchen table crying over my broken heart. I had explained to my mother how it hurt and that all I wanted to do was see him. My father then, without any hesitation sat next to me , reached into his pocket and said, "here, new life, new car." And that's how their control began to run through my veins like poison emerging through my brain making me do whatever they wanted me to do. It was forbidden to ever say his name nor could I ever speak to Matt ever again. For them it was quite possibly the greatest thing to have ever happened to them…I mean …Me. Truth is to them , Matt was a failure. And no daughter of theirs could ever come close to ending up with such an unremarkable being.

I am now 24 and Matt has returned back into my life. With many changes that came from both ends, we have managed to see our mistakes for what they were and could not be happier to be together now. I truly believe that whatever is meant to be, will be. So the reason behind us still being here, together, has me always thinking that this is happening for a reason. But none of this matters to my parents who have now found out about all of this two nights ago. I awoke to my mother yelling hysterically in my room right before work. Her voice was filled with fury and her eyes were filled with pain. Her look showed me nothing but disappointed which very much differed to the looks that I had always seen in those eyes when I was younger. There was no longer the shimmering sparkle that set in her gleaming eyes as she'd hold me tight while whispering in my tiny ears, "I love you and you are such a good girl." It was simple and to the point, my mother loved me. But now all I saw and heard were words full of disdain and malice with hopes that each daggered phrase would stab me right in the heart. "You are such a disappointment Yasmin. Why have you not learned from your mistakes? Can't you see how much pain you are causing us? Your father and I will never look at you the same way." As I sat there having each and every word sinking into my heart, I began to think back to when I was the "perfect" child. The picture of my 8th birthday cake as I blew it out. My father on my left looking at me with nothing but great expectations and my mother smiling at me, knowing that I was her perfect little princess. The huge smile I had on my face as my head hung over my beautiful cake reminded me of how great life used to be. When I used to be perfect.

Love and being controlling can be very tricky things to implore. The way my parents had loved me was in no way the best form of love. Their need to control mine and my sibling's lives had made us all more and more distant towards them in the end. My oldest sister is now out of the picture since her and my mother never talk anymore due to my mother's overbearing ways of control. My brother comes to visit every now and again but is never as close as he used to be since my mother never got along with his wife. Jess is the only one who comes around more often but does not have such a great relationship with my father due to his own ways of controlling her and her decisions. I had taken the liberty to live on campus in hopes that perhaps a little distance would help my relationship with my parents improve. All was well until they found out I was with the one person they strictly forbid me to be with. The distance will now only grow and my great expectations to have the family to fall back on will be nothing but a mere wish. I guess I'm not so perfect after all.

Essay #4 Brain-Light-Showers.

Okay so I am really not sure on what to write for essay #4 only because I haven't quite thought it out. My one idea is to talk about my trips to the west coast ever since I was 11 years old. However, I wouldn't know what to specifically talk about. Maybe I can write about my job and the joys of being in retail. I sell Jewelry at a company called Swarovski. It is never really a dull moment in that store because there is always something weird or just plain dumb that customers will pull. Other than that, I'm having trouble thinking of any more ideas :(

Essay #3- Draft 1 COMPLETE

Welcome to Yasmin's Dating hot line..How may I..help YOU?

Well I've never really looked at myself for one to help others in their "scandalous" lives but when my friend picked me to help him woe over a girl he'd only talked to… once, I couldn't pass off the offer since I thought it would be pretty amusing. Meet my friend Dan. 5'2, green eyes, majoring in Mathematics with a minor in Environmental Science and Engineering. What a catch right? Well with a few basic tools as well as the normal ability to speak to a girl, Dan would have done pretty alright for himself. But now I was stuck leading him into his next possible relationship with a girl named Sarah. Oh, how his eyes sparkle every time that name was even whispered as a joke. I'd never seen such a redder face in my life compared to Danny's face every time Sarah made her way into our house parties. It's the bottom of the ninth and Dan has yet to ask Sarah if she'd like a drink. He's now making his way towards her. Let's see how this will turn out Johnny...

“Dan I swear on Orion’s belt that if you don’t go over there and talk to her I will tell her you’re into men!” Dan stood there, shocked to his very core. Scared that I would ruin things for him in a mere second. But really, what would I be screwing up here? The kid hadn’t even said a word to Sarah since our last Halloween get to together. I’d be surprised if she even knew his name at this point. But there Dan stood, looking at her from across the room, wishing that he were there right next to her having a conversation about Harry Potter (oddly enough something they’d have in common…weird). And as soon as I made my way to speak to her, he quickly jumped in front of me with every ounce of confidence he could muster and made contact with Sarah. Houston, we have contact! There they were, she smiled and he offered out his hand introducing himself as Danny. She looked smitten but I could never really put my finger on whether it was because she was two Cosmopolitans in or because she thought he was cute.

About thirty minutes went by and I was half way through the potato chip bowl by now when I felt a tap on my shoulder. “We talked and her name is Sarah and she goes to my school and she wants to be a teacher and…” As I sat there trying to absorb all of this information, I began thinking if he even thought about emerging some details on himself. “Uhmmm…I told him my name and that I knew Mike at this party…” As I sat there shaking my head I continued thinking that this guy needed more than help, he needed Dating for Dummies. Now I’ve had my encounters of dating situations since the age of 13 so I’d like to think I had at least some words of wisdom. There were always strange guys, guys with high egos, guys with low egos, pretty guys, ugly guys and even guys who were plain amazing to guys who were just plain horrific. I’ve met them all and knew how to handle every one. But now, as for girls I’ve come to find that the reason why I knew so much about them (besides me being one) was the complaints I’d hear from my dear older brother. The hundreds of girlfriend who surrounded me day by day would also attest to my ‘female’ knowledge. But enough about my credentials, now we’re back from commercials and Dan has yet to ask for a simple number that could change everything.

It was 9:10 in the morning and my phone suddenly screams for me. Looking at this Godforsaken device that had interrupted such heavenly sleep, I took my anger towards the name flashing on the screen…Dan. This name was becoming the annoyance to my life, the evil fly buzz to my ears. He was in need yet again. So as I answered the phone to only be greeted by a high pitched voice telling me that he not only requested her on Facebook (the network defying demon of our time) but that she had accepted in exactly 30 minutes from the request. My interest was slowly decreasing as he started asking several hundred questions as to what the next step was and how he would go about them. Unfortunately, it being 9:30 in the morning with much more needed sleep I proceeded to mumble a simple “we’ll talk later” phrase and hung up. The rest of the few hours of sleep I had, had me thinking of ways for this kid to finally get the girl and would therefore end happily ever after because after all, a prince deserves his happy ending as well. 

By this time I felt that Danny boy was more than ready to commit to the moment. After class I had arranged to meet up with him for lunch. Our conversation went as follows: "I like her but she probably doesn't like me that way. I want to talk to her but I can't get the courage to. This sucks, girls suck and I don't know anymore..." As soon as he finished yapping about every pessimistic thing that could have possibly come out of his mouth, I started to speak objectively. I began to tell him what his moves should be and that if he played his cards right, he could have a date with her by the end of the week. It is quite remarkable what this day and age's society will go through to get a little bit of attention or recognition from the opposite sex. People become attracted to one another, they make plans or schemes to join forces and BAM! Welcome to a relationship! Starring you and your "significant" other. But what holds true to the beginning of this fascinating process? When starting up a relationship does it really take two to start Tangoing? 

 As you see in many movies or shows such as Friends or Sleepless in Seattle, show ways in which relationships start and/or end. Take Rachel and Ross from the comic series Friends, it took him nearly 9 years to finally confess to Rachel that he in fact had a crush on her. Of course with the help of his sister and the rest of the Friends gang, he ultimately triumphed winning over the girl of his dreams. As for the movie Sleepless in Seattle as well where Tom Hanks is helped by everyone in finding Meg Ryan. It never just starts off with the two people getting the courage and immediately asking out the other. It takes time, courage and a possible third or fourth party to get the ball rolling. Maybe other cultures have it correct. Maybe as such in the Muslim and Indian cultures, arranged marriages are the way to go. However, the fact that you may not actually love the guy/girl? Yea, that could create a problem. But it is still an interesting parallel to what we do today. 

"Dan, this is your last chance. She's right there behind the punch table. Go over, converse and do what I told you to do." As Dan stood there as nervous as he could be at a party, he started to think. Maybe what was going through his mind was the fact that this was his last shot at true love. Maybe it wasn't going to be so bad. Maybe he shouldn't have refilled his glass five minutes ago making him look like an idiot walking over to get more. But as I looked at him with reassuring eyes, he made his way to the punch table. Finally the two connected in a cosmic world where they both looked like they were starting to enjoy each others company. This time Sarah was not inebriated and in fact did remember Dan. The two looked great and I felt accomplished. But as I started to move around the room, a random girl pulled up in front of me. "Hey I'm Liz. I'm Sarah's friend, geeze I'm glad she's finally talking to your friend Dan. She wouldn't stop bugging me for advice on how to get in contact with him again." As I joined in hysterical laughter with Liz I looked over to Dan as he looked over at me. I smiled, winked and his "Thank You" smile could not make me any happier. Thank you for using Yasmin's dating hot line. Now go and start off your crazy lives together. You crazy kids! 

Essay #3

Welcome to Yasmin's Dating hot line..How may I..help YOU?

Well I've never really looked at myself for one to help others in their "scandalous" lives but when my friend picked me to help him woe over a girl he'd only talked to… once, I couldn't pass off the offer since I thought it would be pretty amusing. Meet my friend Dan. 5'2, green eyes, majoring in Mathematics with a minor in Environmental Science and Engineering. What a catch right? Well with a few basic tools as well as the normal ability to speak to a girl, Dan would have done pretty alright for himself. But now I was stuck leading him into his next possible relationship with a girl named Sarah. Oh, how his eyes sparkle every time that name was even whispered as a joke. I'd never seen such a redder face in my life compared to Danny's face every time Sarah made her way into our house parties. It's the bottom of the ninth and Dan has yet to ask Sarah if she'd like a drink. He's now making his way towards her. Let's see how this will turn out Johnny...

“Dan I swear on Orion’s belt that if you don’t go over there and talk to her I will tell her you’re into men!” Dan stood there, shocked to his very core. Scared that I would ruin things for him in a mere second. But really, what would I be screwing up here? The kid hadn’t even said a word to Sarah since our last Halloween get to together. I’d be surprised if she even knew his name at this point. But there Dan stood, looking at her from across the room, wishing that he were there right next to her having a conversation about Harry Potter (oddly enough something they’d have in common…weird). And as soon as I made my way to speak to her, he quickly jumped in front of me with every ounce of confidence he could muster and made contact with Sarah. Houston, we have contact! There they were, she smiled and he offered out his hand introducing himself as Danny. She looked smitten but I could never really put my finger on whether it was because she was two Cosmopolitans in or because she thought he was cute.

About thirty minutes went by and I was half way through the potato chip bowl by now when I felt a tap on my shoulder. “We talked and her name is Sarah and she goes to my school and she wants to be a teacher and…” As I sat there trying to absorb all of this information, I began thinking if he even thought about emerging some details on himself. “Uhmmm…I told him my name and that I knew Mike at this party…” As I sat there shaking my head I continued thinking that this guy needed more than help, he needed Dating for Dummies. Now I’ve had my encounters of dating situations since the age of 13 so I’d like to think I had at least some words of wisdom. There were always strange guys, guys with high egos, guys with low egos, pretty guys, ugly guys and even guys who were plain amazing to guys who were just plain horrific. I’ve met them all and knew how to handle every one. But now, as for girls I’ve come to find that the reason why I knew so much about them (besides me being one) was the complaints I’d hear from my dear older brother. The hundreds of girlfriend who surrounded me day by day would also attest to my ‘female’ knowledge. But enough about my credentials, now we’re back from commercials and Dan has yet to ask for a simple number that could change everything.

It was 9:10 in the morning and my phone suddenly screams for me. Looking at this Godforsaken device that had interrupted such heavenly sleep, I took my anger towards the name flashing on the screen…Dan. This name was becoming the annoyance to my life, the evil fly buzz to my ears. He was in need yet again. So as I answered the phone to only be greeted by a high pitched voice telling me that he not only requested her on Facebook (the network defying demon of our time) but that she had accepted in exactly 30 minutes from the request. My interest was slowly decreasing as he started asking several hundred questions as to what the next step was and how he would go about them. Unfortunately, it being 9:30 in the morning with much more needed sleep I proceeded to mumble a simple “we’ll talk later” phrase and hung up. The rest of the few hours of sleep I had, had me thinking of ways for this kid to finally get the girl and would therefore end happily ever after because after all, a prince deserves his happy ending as well.

*****I paused here because I just want to know if I’m headed in the right direction :)

Welcome to Yasmin's Dating hot line..How may I..help YOU? (Just an Idea)

Well I've never really looked at myself for one to help others in their "scandalous" lives but when my friend picked me to help him woe over a girl he'd only talked to once...I couldn't pass off the offer since I thought it would be pretty amusing. Meet my friend Dan. 5'2, green eyes, majoring in Mathematics with a minor in Environmental Science and Engineering. What a catch right? Well with a few basic tools as well as the normal ability to speak to a girl, Dan would have done pretty alright for himself. But now I was stuck leading him into his next possible relationship with a girl named Sarah. Oh, how his eyes sparkle every time that name was even whispered as a joke. I'd never seen such a redder faces in my life but none compared to Danny's face every time Sarah made her way into our house parties. It's the bottom of the ninth and Dan has yet to ask Sarah if she'd like a drink. He's now making his way towards her. Let's see how this will turn out Johnny...

**This is how I THINK I'd start off my 3rd essay if I chose my first option. (If I even did it correctly :-/ ) My idea was to write about my friends Dan and Sarah and their chemistry as well as my knowledge in human interactions. I was right from the start when I told him everything he should have done to talk to this girl, you might even call me the female Hitch ;)

Comments please :):)

Brain-Storming for Essay #3

I have a whole bunch of ideas on what to do for my third essay but I haven't quite narrowed it down to just one. In last week's class we had made a list about the things that we think we're "experts" at; things we're really go at doing. My list consisted of the following:
                                                   Sociology 
                                                   Movies
                                                   Music
                                                   TV Show- F.R.I.E.N.D.S

*Now you might be somewhat baffled by my first choice but let me explain. I'm an expert in human behavior (or so I believe) but I love studying human interactions and reactions. In my last class called Writing Creatively about Non-fiction, we were told to look at a person or couple and come up with stories that we thought were about them. Where they lived, if they were married, with kids, single, smart, etc. Even at social outings with my friends I can instantly study people and understand what type of connection they have with fellow friends or strangers. It's something that I gathered being a pretty social person that I am myself. I'm the kind of person who will talk to anyone in a one mile radius, telling them what I had done all day. I'm not shy and I also expertise in making new friends whenever I have an opportunity.

*I'm also very pop-culture based. I love love love movies and music. I can recite lines from pretty much any movie I have ever seen in my life. Music is my life, period. I love every genre and with every different kind of melody or rhythm, it changes my mood or enlightens me a little. I love listening to new bands, singers and genres. Lyrics? You say them, I can tell you where it was from. It's scary but that's really how much I listen to music. My collection of movies is also infinite since I ask for one every Christmas.

*I own the whole collection of Friends, the TV series because it's my absolute favorite show. Again, I can most definitely recite every line from any episode. But I don't know how I'd exactly make an essay out of this :-/

Any ideas on how to transform any of my own ideas into essay #3 would be GREATLY appreciated!! :):)

Raindrops on my thoughts

I think that when I was writing each of my essays, I was exploring within my memories and feelings. I had gone through really crazy, life changing experiences and I tried my very best to explain in detail how it was like to be in an unhealthy relationship. I believe that the "I" essay's purpose was for us to write about our stories from our perspective, so with that being said I went right through and wrote about what I had experienced. I really hope that my essays are not only relevant to some people but perhaps helpful to see what you should or should not do in a relationship.

First Draft-Essay #2: Crashing on the Couch

I don’t know what to do anymore. I try and I try and all I get is mistreated. I sat there, still on that same grimy couch, waiting for what he’d say next. “What are we doing, Matt? Is this really how you want to spend the rest of your life just hurting and ruining my life?” His silence sent me chills down my spine as he walked away from me and moved towards the door. I smelled all those hours that he had spent in work right before he arrived home, gearing up for war. As I sat there looking desperately at him, the sun glared in from the cracks of the blinds in through the living room window. The sun rays then bounced off his hazel green eyes making them sparkle as he stared at me from across the room. Those beautiful eyes that looked as if there was a sun lying on top of green grassy pastures, how I loved those hazel green eyes.  Then all of a sudden, it happened; the words that had killed me more and more each day to admit, “I don’t think I want this anymore Matt, I’m sorry.” He immediately shut his eyes as hard as he could and made his way out of the door without a word, without anything but a last slam of the door that echoed throughout the apartment. I was alone now, beginning to wonder how such a beautiful thing had become into such a mess. Today it was about mistrust and not knowing whether or not we wanted to be with each other but every other day, the fights had become worse with each of us blaming the other for hurting the relationship. I was done. I had had enough of this awful world we called our relationship. I sat there, still, on the same awful couch that I had always shared my sorrows with and he was already gone.

                As I stared around the room, the Christmas tree that we had set up at the beginning of the month caught my eye. I remember when he was so excited to put up his Dallas Cowboy ornament that he had just bought for the first time. The only blue and silver ornament on the whole tree, I thought. The ribbon around the tree was of course my idea but he liked it because he always thought, the more the better on a Christmas tree. This was our very first Christmas tree we had made together and it was beautiful. And as I sat there staring at this tree, I couldn’t help but think about the amazing time we had in New York City on our very first Christmas two and a half years ago. The very first time I was there to be present as the tree was lit with someone I loved more than life itself. I remember thinking to myself that I could really be with this guy forever. Then again I was 18 so what did I know right? But now it was getting darker in the living as our relationship was as well. The lights on the tree were getting brighter and brighter with every minute that had gone by in the living room. By this time it was almost time for bed but sleep was something that was not coming easily to me since he was still not home. I had plans for the next day so I needed his car so I would have to drop him off to work first and then pick him up. How I dreaded the ride there and the ride back. Maybe he wouldn’t come back home tonight, I thought. But thankfully my eyes began to slowly become heavy. It was now time to lie down and wait.

                A night of tossing and turning was not unusual in this apartment but that night was more horrific than usual. As I had drifted off into deep sleep, images of raging oceans with high tides began to occur in my dreams. The sun hits my eyes blinding me for just a second but then as I focus them, I see an image of a man dressed in black. I wondered what a man dressed in black was doing on a beach. Then somehow I began to walk closer and closer towards the water. I don’t know how to swim so obviously I began to freak out at the thought of emerging into this ocean. But as my legs move me deeper and deeper into the shallow waters, the man kept looking at me. I yell out, “Help! Help me please I don’t know what’s happening! I can’t swim! Please help me!” The image does not move but an inch to wave at me. By this time I feel water up to my waist. I become more terrified as this dream feels so real. The sun, still beaming down at me begins to burn my neck making it harder for me to breathe. The man still stares and waves at me as I was being sucked into my death by the rapid waters of the ocean. Water hits my face now and I can’t see much until a wave came crashing onto my head. It was then that I pushed forth and jumped up to see the man once again. This time the man was more visible. He had short light brown hair that shined in the sun. Slender-tall body that began turning red from all the sun that was hitting him. And he had long arms with which he kept waving at me with. It’s him. It was Matt and the ocean was drowning me now. Everything was blue with everything moving slowly. Then as I felt the weight of my body slowly sinking in more and more, I felt someone pull me out of the ocean’s deathly grip. It was him and I could breathe again. Then instantly, I awoke sweating with shortness of breath. I looked over to the right side of the bed and surely enough, Matt was laying there with his back towards me. It was still over. Time for a new day.

                It was 8 in the morning as I heard him rummaging through the apartment getting ready for work. I hadn’t had a good night sleep but it was time to drop him off. Silence filled up the car all the way to his job. “See you when I get out,” he whispered tiredly as he got out of the car. Door slammed shut. I drive home. Time to go back to sleep until most of the heartache was over. I arrived home and once again sat down on what I now called, “the couch of misery.” Nothing but thoughts and tears could be found on this lonely loveseat couch. “Loveseat?”  It couldn’t be far from it, I thought. Besides that couch symbolizing my loneliness and misery, now silence had taken over my life so it made it really easy to fall back to sleep in such a lonely and silent home.

                It is 4:20; Matt’s shift was over in 10 minutes. I had overslept and even missed my doctor’s appointment. My phone then rang and it’s him. “Hey are you on your way yet?” I froze but then told a little white lie, “Yea I’m actually just leaving right now, I’ll be there soon.” As I hang up I realize I hadn’t even gotten out of pajamas much less showered but I was late and he did not like waiting. Quickly I got up, grabbed his keys, my slippers and ran out the door. It was quite a cold day but the sun was still out. I began to drive meanwhile thinking about how much I miss the good days of our relationship. I missed my partner, my confidant, my other half. Maybe things could change or maybe we just need some time away from each other. All these thoughts were haunting me now but they came to a raging halt as soon as I saw a car drive in front of me while I was trying to make the green light. Air bags deployed, my glasses flew across the dashboard and all I could hear was the radio playing, “I hate this part”, by the Pussycat Dolls. I smell brunt rubber and I frantically start crying because I couldn’t see a thing without my glasses which were tossed somewhere into oblivion. I look for my phone and it was nowhere to be found. A woman knocks on my door asking me if I was okay but all I could do was cry, mumbling God knows what. “Honey it’s alright just calmed down. You’re okay Just come out of the car for me alright?” I was so scared but finally found my phone. Matt had left his cell phone with me by accident so now it was time to call his job but since I was freaking out as it was, my fingers could not dial the right numbers for the life of me. I finally get through, hearing his voice. “Matt, speaking.” I started to cry telling him I was in an accident. At first he did not understand who I even was but then he figured it out and asked if I was okay. I told him I was fine but that I wrecked his car. He proceeded to tell me to stay put and that he would be right there because since he didn’t have his car he’d have to find an alternative way to get there.  

                I began to shake not because it was cold out but because I couldn’t believe the damage that I had gone through and I had still made it through alive. The other driver was taken into an ambulance but I was too scared to even think about going to a hospital. As I sat there crying on the curb in front of a Nordstorm, I thought to myself, am I living my life the way I really should be living it? But as soon as the cop stopped asking me questions I saw an image of a man running from across the street, to me. He was all dressed in black and was hysterical at the sight of seeing me. It was him in his work uniform and as he ran to me, I began to cry. He then held me so tight and whispered, “I’m so happy you’re okay. I never want to lose you again.” He began to cry with me and as we both stood near the car wreck that I had survived, we realized that there was nothing that we could not take head on.

A week later, we bought a new couch.

Essay #1- Draft 2

It’s him and we might as well be strangers…

It was 8:30 at night and I was sitting alone on his couch thinking about what should be done next. My heart kept beating faster as it got closer to 9 O’clock, his arrival from work. We had fought the previous night and hadn’t seen or spoken to each other for a whole day. Of course the fight consisted of who was lying to whom. He would always think I was lying and did not trust me for a second. I was a convicted prisoner who had not committed a crime in her whole entire life. Chills of remorse came crawling along my spine. “Should I have yelled? Should I have said those horrible things? But he started it. It was him! Does he even want me here anymore?” Days had gone by where all we did was fight and the level of hatred and pure anguish was increasing to its all-time high. Reoccurring conflicts that began as simple notches would turn into World War III in less than minutes. “Why won’t you just listen to me?” “I don’t want this anymore!” “Get out!” All these words were engraved in my mind now and I had no other opportunity to look forward to anything else. Our main fights were of distrust and the amount of loyalty that was or was not put into our relationship. “What did you do today? And who were you with?” It seemed as if I had left my life, committed a heinous crime and was immediately transported to death row. I had no way out now and he had me as a prisoner in his cage of hell.

Memories ran through my head, going way back to our first huge quarrel that was mainly about a friend who had, in his own words, “disrespected” him. It was a sunny and beautiful day and what I thought was going to be a nice time shared by my boyfriend and best friend, turned into one of my worst nightmares come true. As it turned out he had decided to leave me planted at her house without any sign of his well being or a notice saying, “Hey, I’ll never be back for you again.” I began thinking to myself, “Why God, why am I still suffering with someone who hurts me each and every day of my youthful life?” But at the time, I was too blind to truly see what was good for me. I had proceeded to look for him to make sure he was alright however, his mother texted me saying that he was now out with his friends and didn’t know when he would be back. I was lost, not to mention I looked like a complete fool looking for him while my friend‘s rage increased by the minute. “Why do you continue to see that bastard, Yasmin?” She’d ask me. I had no real sane answer for her, and I noticed that I never did. “It’s him.”

Once I got back into his apartment, I sat there waiting on that exact same couch; so cold and so filled with a drowning sensation of what was to come next. Hours went by and with each hour I began thinking, “What am I doing? What more is he going to do to me? I want to get out of here but my heart isn’t letting me move an inch.” Watching television or going on the computer would not distract me as much as I would have liked. And then my heart began to beat in anguish as I heard his car pull up at exactly midnight. “Finally, it’s him.” For some ridiculous reason, I had been worried to death and wanted to make sure that he was okay. But once he got home, I was in for a rude awakening. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he said under his breath while taking a quick glimpse at me and jetted straight by me. I froze and realized he had kicked me out of the apartment. As I stood outside the apartment, cold and upset, my heart told me to knock on the door and ask for an explanation. The reply? The door was slammed in my face and I was left to find my own ride home at 12:30 in the morning.

It’s 8:45 now and I am still there on that same couch, thinking about the words I would use to get me out of this Pandora’s box to only relay the message that this had gone on way too long for me to bare. However, I started to resent the fact that I was a girl because my heart would always fight back with my head. My heart would want to go on and fight through whatever was killing us. “Two and a half years”, my heart would beat. It had been such a long time since I had ever loved another being the way I loved him. “It’s him, the one that I…loved?” What would I do now if it all ended?” 

                The clock was ticking and I still had no words to express how much I wanted all of this to perish for good. My heartbeat increased in speed when my phone suddenly began to ring. “Oh no, it’s him. Hello?...Ok...Bye.” He was on his way home now and I was sooner losing faith that anything was going to be resolved. My thoughts became clouded by the symphony of great memories that had past. Across the living room was our album that we had been filling up since day one. I began to gaze at it as if it was a piece of meat and I hadn’t eaten for days. Thoughts came rushing in like waves towards the coast.

                It was the summer of 2005 and one of my best friends was having a picnic in honor of our high school graduation. I was carefree with no worries about the real world as of yet. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky with the weather was at a whopping 80 degrees. I sat down in the gazebo located on her lawn to merely sit in awe of my accomplishment. Then suddenly my phone rang and it’s him. I answered and his voice, oh how I remember his voice, asking me to go to the movies with him and his friends. I happily accepted since I had had a slight crush on him for a small amount of time. Butterflies began to blossom in my stomach and the hopes for it all to work out came rushing towards my heart. He was the sweetest, most caring guy that I had ever met in my entire life. And after a year, I loved him.

                I hear the locked door become unlocked in his apartment. It’s him and my heart begins to beat faster and faster as he makes his way inside the front door. “What am I going to say? What is he going to do? I sure hope he says he’s sorry.” All these thoughts kept making their way into my head as my gaze turned into a frightened stare towards the door. He entered with bags of food from the grocery store. I try not look towards him and turned on the television to possibly cut most of the tension that was drowning us in this tiny room. He makes his way towards the kitchen putting every item away somewhat aggressively. At this point I had realized that he had not even greeted me like he used to in the past. The warm hug where he held me so tight and the kiss that he had always wanted to give me after a longs day of work was now a cold straight walk towards the kitchen without a single word or acknowledgment of my presence, we might as well had been strangers. At this point, I have no words nor do I have the will to say anything to him. My sadness had grown into fear and now it had shaped itself into anger. I lose hope and turn my eyes onto the TV set where no one can make me this angry.

                He finally comes out of the kitchen with nothing but a can of soda and a bag of chips in his hands. Perhaps he will acknowledge me now and we can watch TV like we always do, forgetting about all the problems. I should have known better as he walked right by me towards the computer and sat down. My pain was only beginning to grow because this was now the pattern every other night. It had gone from sweet greetings at the door to no greetings at all. He was angry because we had fought the previous night but it was not my fault. His anger would always get the best of him. His hurtful words along with his aggressive actions were the sharp knives that stabbed me in the heart each day. I had lost what was once the sweetest thing was now the poison in my life. I had no intentions of speaking first because I was the one who was hurt and battered by his wrong doings. So I started to stare at him while he was on the computer playing online Poker as if no one in the room was in agonizing pain. “It’s him”, I thought. It is like him, nowadays, to treat me like this. I was nothing more than a waste of space in the room now.

                It was time for bed as he headed towards his mattress first. There wasn’t a single word passed around all day or night from the both of us. I felt empty, hurt and alone. He was fast asleep now while I sat there on the cold couch watching happy people on TV. “Why? Why must I still be here?” I asked myself. “Am I that much of a coward that I can’t just leave and never return? He wouldn’t even care if I died this very moment. Why stay?” As tears began to slowly make their way down my cheeks I thought back to the first time we said “I Love You”. I became baffled as to how things got so bad. It was not love anymore, it was fear; fear of losing everything that we had worked for. I quickly wiped my tears and made my way into bed. I tried my best not to wake him but as I adjusted and pulled the blanket over me, I felt his movements. I began to close my eyes to drift off to a place where my heart was no longer in pain. But a second before losing myself in dreams, I felt a sudden warmth cover my body and pressure that can only be defined as someone holding you ever so tight. It’s him. And not once all through the night did he ever let me go.

It's him, and we might as well be strangers...

It was 8:30 at night and I was sitting alone on his couch thinking about what should be done next. My heart kept beating faster as it got closer to 9 O’clock, his arrival from work. We had fought the previous night and hadn’t seen or spoken to each other for a whole day. Chills of remorse came crawling along my spine. “Should I have yelled? Should I have said those horrible things? But he started it. It was him! Does he even want me here anymore?” Days had gone by where all we did was fight and the level of hatred and pure anguish was increasing to its all-time high. I sat there thinking about the words I would use to get me out of this Pandora’s box to only relay the message that this had gone on way too long for me to bare. However, I started to resent the fact that I was a girl because my heart would always fight back with my head. My heart would want to go on and fight through whatever was killing us. “Two and a half years”, my heart would beat. It had been such a long time since I had ever loved another being the way I loved him. What would I do now if it all ended?  

                The clock was ticking and I still had no words to express how much I wanted all of this to perish for good. My heartbeat increased in speed when my phone suddenly began to ring. “Oh no, it’s him. Hello?...Ok...Bye.” He was on his way home now and I was sooner losing faith that anything was going to be resolved. My thoughts became clouded by the symphony of great memories that had past. Across the living room was our album that we had been filling up since day one. I began to gaze at it as if it was a piece of meat and I hadn’t eaten for days. Thoughts came rushing in like waves towards the coast.

                It was the summer of 2005 and one of my best friends was having a picnic in honor of our high school graduation. I was carefree with no worries about the real world as of yet. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky with the weather was at a whopping 80 degrees. I sat down in the gazebo located on her lawn to merely sit in awe of my accomplishment. Then suddenly my phone rang and it’s him. I answered and his voice, oh how I remember his voice, asking me to go to the movies with him and his friends. I happily accepted since I had had a slight crush on him for a small amount of time. Butterflies began to blossom in my stomach and the hopes for it all to work out came rushing towards my heart. He was the sweetest, most caring guy that I had ever met in my entire life. And after a year, I loved him.

                I hear the locked door become unlocked in his apartment. It’s him and my heart begins to beat faster and faster as he makes his way inside the front door. “What am I going to say? What is he going to do? I sure hope he says he’s sorry.” All these thoughts kept making their way into my head as my gaze turned into a frightened stare towards the door. He entered with bags of food from the grocery store. I try not look towards him and turned on the television to possibly cut most of the tension that was drowning us in this tiny room. He makes his way towards the kitchen putting every item away somewhat aggressively. At this point I had realized that he had not even greeted me like he used to in the past. The warm hug where he held me so tight and the kiss that he had always wanted to give me after a longs day of work was now a cold straight walk towards the kitchen without a single word or acknowledgment of my presence, we might as well had been strangers. At this point, I have no words nor do I have the will to say anything to him. My sadness had grown into fear and now it had shaped itself into anger. I lose hope and turn my eyes onto the TV set where no one can make me this angry.

                He finally comes out of the kitchen with nothing but a can of soda and a bag of chips in his hands. Perhaps he will acknowledge me now and we can watch TV like we always do, forgetting about all the problems. I should have known better as he walked right by me towards the computer and sat down. My pain was only beginning to grow because this was now the pattern every other night. It had gone from sweet greetings at the door to no greetings at all. He was angry because we had fought the previous night but it was not my fault. His anger would always get the best of him. His hurtful words along with his aggressive actions were the sharp knives that stabbed me in the heart each day. I had lost what was once the sweetest thing was now the poison in my life. I had no intentions of speaking first because I was the one who was hurt and battered by his wrong doings. So I started to stare at him while he was on the computer playing online Poker as if no one in the room was in agonizing pain. “It’s him”, I thought. It is like him, nowadays, to treat me like this. I was nothing more than a waste of space in the room now.

                It was time for bed as he headed towards his mattress first. There wasn’t a single word passed around all day or night from the both of us. I felt empty, hurt and alone. He was fast asleep now while I sat there on the cold couch watching happy people on TV. “Why? Why must I still be here?” I asked myself. “Am I that much of a coward that I can’t just leave and never return? He wouldn’t even care if I died this very moment. Why stay?” As tears began to slowly make their way down my cheeks I thought back to the first time we said “I Love You”. I became baffled as to how things got so bad. It was not love anymore, it was fear; fear of losing everything that we had worked for. I quickly wiped my tears and made my way into bed. I tried my best not to wake him but as I adjusted and pulled the blanket over me, I felt his movements. I began to close my eyes to drift off to a place where my heart was no longer in pain. But a second before losing myself in dreams, I felt a sudden warmth cover my body and pressure that can only be defined as someone holding you ever so tight. It’s him. And not once all through the night did he ever let me go.

Let's think about this....

When I think of an "I" essay, I think about a story written from your own point of view; through your own eyes. Any story that has meant something to you. A story that you also have an emotional attachment to. I think that to write a certain type of an "I" essay, you must take a moment and rewind back to any moment that has affected you in way shape or form. I believe that is the main ingredient to writing an "I" essay. As for ideas? I have a couple.

- My travel experiences that I've had since I was 11 years old. I love traveling and so does my older sister so we she started to take me with her on her journeys each summer. I've seen everything you could possibly imagine in different countries, states and cities. These experiences had shown me a lot of what is truly out there in the world. This affected me in so many ways because I not only helped people but I obtained so many skills in traveling from place to place.

- The experience that I had with my very first long-term relationship. We were high-school sweet hearts but after 3 years had gone by, our relationship was far from sweet. I was always the kind and quiet type of person until he had come around. I believe that this experience had changed me completely as a person.

- After my horrible relationship, I had an amazing relationship that to however end because it was the right thing to do. This relationship had changed me in that it taught me what a good and healthy relationship was. That all men weren't just crazy, evil men waiting to hurt you.

I think that these 3 experiences stood out more than any other one i have had in the past. The affect that each experience had, really made me into the person I am today, I think. Of course I'm still brainstorming :)

What is Creative Nonfiction?

Creative Writing and Writing about Fiction are two classes that I have taken here at Kean have broadened my imagination in writing. I have no simple description about Creative Nonfiction writing but I am very eager to find out about the interesting concept behind it. I think that Creative Nonfiction is based on truth and a great deal of creative imagination.

As a 12 year old, I started to write in a book which by the end of high school, had every piece of information known to man-kind about me. From then on, I expanded my horizons in my very first creative writing class. Impossible but interesting ideas started to pile up in my head that quickly splattered all over my paper. I believe that having a great deal of creativity and imagination can really help in the writing structure of Creative Nonfiction. And with every piece that I have ever written since high school, I will never forget what my creative writing teacher had told me, " It is with great passion and  imagination that will lead your pen through every blue line on that piece of paper. Write on!"