Informal Diction

                I ain't feelin' too well.  Yesterday, I woke up with a tummyache.  I slept for most o' the day and couldn't eat nothin' 'till after dinnertime! I watched a movie and then I went to bed.  This mornin', I woke up at 4:30 and couldn't sleep but felt just fine.  I didn't even stop to think that maybe I just felt good 'cause of the medicine I had eaten.  So I went to school.  At the beginnin' of my first class, I felt fine.  "It's strange," I said to my friend, "I ain't even tired!"  But by the end of first period, I felt so sleepy.  I wanted to lay down on the floor and nap.  But I couldn't.  I had to go to choir.  In choir, the teacher makes us stand up and sit down and such.  I felt like a zombie, standin' and sittin' with my eyes half closed.  The next class was worse.  I went to math feelin' like I was gonna fall over.  I did my work but could barely keep my eyes open.  At last, it was lunchtime.
               At lunch, while all my friends were talkin' and eatin' and laughin', I sat there eatin' and lookin' off into the distance.  My eyes wouldn't open all the way and my mouth just wasn't workin'.  Next was Spanish.  Now, I'd like to see a genius try to speak a different language as tired as I was!  I just hoped that the teacher wouldn't call on me.  I was afeared of what kind of gingabagarble would come outa' my mouth if I tried to think of an answer.  P.E. I don't even remember, besides almost gettin' whacked with a volleyball durin' a game 'cause I was spacin' out.  Biology is just a blur.  Then my mom picked me up and made me chick'n noodle stew.  Then I had two creamsickles to stop the pain in my throat. 
               Now I'm 'bout to get ready to sleep.  Havn't decided if I'm gonna go to school tomorrow, or if I ain't gonna.  If I have got a fever, then I won't go.  But if I don't then I will.  It's just so hard to miss school and have to make up all of my work!  Oh, well, if I'm sick I don't want to make my friends sick!  We'll see. 

Writing about Writing

               I like to write about things that aren't real.  When I was too young to hold a pencil, too young to type with my chubby fingers, I would sit down at the kitchen table and draw.  I would create magical worlds where made up creatures dwelled.  I conjured up a realm in the clouds, and Mushroom Land, where tiny fairies lived in fungi.  I would spend hours on each intricate detail, making sure everything was perfectly colored.  After each land was brought to life by my colored pencils, I would make up stories about the creatures who resided there.  Sometimes, my friends and I would recreate my fantasy realms in our basements.  We used cardboard for ships, and blankets and chairs for palaces.  I still remember when my brother and I stashed every single food item in our pantry and refrigerator under the piano so we could pretend we were elves who were entering a famine.  My mom was not pleased, but there was something so exciting about pretending we were other people from another time and place.
               When I got old enough to write, I would make up tales about my fantasy worlds.  I like to just sit down and write, not being held back by the confines of reality.  My favorite writing piece I've created is a story about a snow fairy that I wrote when I was ten.  At that age, I was just learning how to draw a reader in with delicious words and beautiful imagery.  The story was about a fairy who resided in a lush green forest and brought flowers back to life.  In the story, I described the way the air felt on the fairy's cheek, and how the snow sparkled on Christmas morning.  Reading the story now brings back my excitement at being able to create something so beautiful.  Writing has always been an exciting actvity for me, but I enjoy it so much more when I can create and describe worlds that nobody has ever heard of before.
               If I have a bad day, I like to create stories in which everything goes right.  Making up places where everyone is happy helps me calm down after a hard day.  I hope to get better at writing this year and improve my ability to create imagery that takes readers to fantasy realms and made up lands.

Wuthering Heights

               In all honesty, Wuthering Heights is definitely not my favorite book.  There are so many confusing character names that it is hard to keep them straight.  Also, when I read, I can tell that my mind wanders a bit.  There are parts, however, that fascinate me.  I love the sections when Lockwood reads Catherine's diaries.  It is like he is entering a different world, resurfacing back into reality after he has learned a little more about the mysterious woman.  The diary parts are like a book within a novel.  I can relate to his curiosity.  If I found a collection of journals in an old house, I wouldn't be able to stop reading.  It is so interesting how his reading induces related dreams.  His dreams are fascinating because the reader can't tell how much of the dream is true and how much is just part of a made up nightmare. 
               The setting of the story really contributes to the main storyline.  Wuthering Heights  is set in the 1800s.  The area in which Heathcliff lives adds a mysterious, eerie feeling to the overall mood.  Because the setting creates the world in which characters make decisions, the chilling setting adds to the plot as well.  Without the moors, Lockwood would never have had to travel a long way through deserted land in a snowstorm.  If the story was set in a different place, it would be drastically changed.
               A few halloweens ago, I checked out a collection of ghost stories called Bone Chillers at the library.  Looking back, those stories relate to Wuthering Heights more than anything I've ever read.  I think that the main similarity is the foreboding feeling I get when I read them.
               When I read Bone Chillers, there was a piece of artwork accompanying each story.  The style of the drawings really conveyed the creepiness of the story to come.  They were pretty abstract.   Despite the ambiquity, each picture told a lot about the story.  They also could be interpreted differently by each person and somehow displayed the themes in artwork as well.  I think it would be fun to create one of these drawings as my project.  It would be interesting to see what people thought of it!
 

Extending the Theme

               I hate change.  If a friend calls at the last minute to make plans, I decline.  When the weatherman reports sunshine and it rains unexpectedly,  I have a bad day.  I am stuck in my ways.  To Kill a Mockingbird really spoke to me in one main way.  Society was unable to reexamine things.  They simply did things the way they had been done for years.  The people of Maycomb, like me, didn't welcome change.
             
               Every day, smart people around the world are reopening, questioning, and reassessing important theories and rules.  That is what should have happened in To Kill a Mockingbird.  Instead, society simply followed the unwritten, unjustified rule that black people were not to be trusted.  Tom Robinson was convicted simply because people were unable to welcome modification of ideas. 
              
               After reading To Kill a Mockingbird, I realized that to grow, people need to rethink things and renew themselves.  In my life, my stubborn decisions don't mean life or death for an innocent person; but they hold me back.  Spontaneity and the ability to question yourself are what make a strong person.  I now know that things needed to change in To Kill a Mockingbird in order for justice to be served, and that change in regular life is important.