This class was very interesting to me because I had no idea what to expect. I had no clue what might be done for writing assignments, having never been in one of these classes before. Anyway, I did not like how there was writing every day, but I understand that this is how online classes are able to work. It was a very in-depth and detailed approach to grading and understanding the material. I did enjoy the majority of the assignments. I particularly enjoyed the Storytelling and Storybook assignments.
This class helped open doors in terms of experimenting with my writing and what I am capable of. My entire Storybook was in poem, which was new for me, and I had never worked on retelling other stories before, so the creative muscles in my brain were able to exercise a bit. Plus, the essay portion helped keep things formal (even though my essays were not very formal at all), and it was a nice array of different writing options each week. I think this was vital in making the class enjoyable.
The writing assignments for this class did leave a good impression on the class as a whole for me. I think it was great getting to write for a class, because I enjoy writing almost as much as I enjoy reading. Plus, the relaxed feel of the class helped make things easy. I think this class is very beneficial for any aspiring writer, or just for anyone who likes a good narrative.
Wednesday, 19 November 2014
Week 15: Reading Post
Honestly, this class was much better than I was expecting. Not that I expected it to be bad or anything, but I had never taken an online class before and it was much easier going than I had thought it would be at first. I did think some of the readings were a little long, but that may just be because I had such a busy schedule that the readings seemed to take forever or there wasn't enough time to successfully get through without scrambling. I did enjoy them, regardless of the length, and I would recommend them to anyone.
The one idea that stood out to me, in terms of improvement, is the thought of doing an anthology option where stories are compiled because of their thematic similarities. I think this would add a fun element to the class, and might be particularly helpful in regards to Storybook ideas and things of that nature. Plus, it would be enjoyable to find various stories from different areas and think of how they might relate in that way. This would make the class a bit easier to follow, if you ask me.
I would like to address future students of this class with one piece of advice: do your best to get ahead! Because if you just do the work as it is due, you will be feeling so much pressure and like the entire class is one big, extra pile of crap you have to do instead of something really fun and enjoyable like it is intended to be. I definitely enjoyed the class overall, but there were moments when it became the biggest hassle I had on my plate during the semester. Get ahead. Then relax as it gets closer to the end of the semester.
The one idea that stood out to me, in terms of improvement, is the thought of doing an anthology option where stories are compiled because of their thematic similarities. I think this would add a fun element to the class, and might be particularly helpful in regards to Storybook ideas and things of that nature. Plus, it would be enjoyable to find various stories from different areas and think of how they might relate in that way. This would make the class a bit easier to follow, if you ask me.
I would like to address future students of this class with one piece of advice: do your best to get ahead! Because if you just do the work as it is due, you will be feeling so much pressure and like the entire class is one big, extra pile of crap you have to do instead of something really fun and enjoyable like it is intended to be. I definitely enjoyed the class overall, but there were moments when it became the biggest hassle I had on my plate during the semester. Get ahead. Then relax as it gets closer to the end of the semester.
Friday, 14 November 2014
Week 14 Essay: It's the End of the World (As We Know It)
This is the last essay I have to write for this class. The end of the semester, just about. What should I write about? I already spent a lot of time on the reading units, I feel like I have dived a bit too deeply into my personal life and writing history, and I have doted greatly on my favorite authors and works. In fact, I think I'm a little burned out on all of that. I have a friend of mine who is an author, and he has a book out that actually (sort of) pertains to the class. It's called The Revenge of Remus, and it takes the mythology of the beginnings of Rome (with Romulus and Remus, obviously, from the title) as well as every teenage girl's love for werewolves (just kidding, the book is actually dedicated to everyone who hates Twilight), and turns it into a adventurous horror story.
I realize I am shamelessly advertising for a friend of mine in this essay, but I really think it is important to support a local anything, and writers, in general. It's a shame that books are a dying form of entertainment and what books are still coming out are appealing to a market that puts books on an electronic device. I don't necessarily expect anyone to jump up and say, "I want a copy of your friend's book!", but I do hope every single person in this class looks to local artists, musicians, writers, and whatever else for a lot of their entertainment. I think that the reason it is difficult for writers and the like to make a decent living these days is because they don't get our financial and verbal support, and it's a real shame.
Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys the remainder of their semester and has a great winter break. If any of you are actually interested, my friend's name is Micah Black, and I would be more than happy to give you a copy of his book, just on the promise that you will read it and the fact that you would have to meet with me somewhere on campus.
I realize I am shamelessly advertising for a friend of mine in this essay, but I really think it is important to support a local anything, and writers, in general. It's a shame that books are a dying form of entertainment and what books are still coming out are appealing to a market that puts books on an electronic device. I don't necessarily expect anyone to jump up and say, "I want a copy of your friend's book!", but I do hope every single person in this class looks to local artists, musicians, writers, and whatever else for a lot of their entertainment. I think that the reason it is difficult for writers and the like to make a decent living these days is because they don't get our financial and verbal support, and it's a real shame.
Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys the remainder of their semester and has a great winter break. If any of you are actually interested, my friend's name is Micah Black, and I would be more than happy to give you a copy of his book, just on the promise that you will read it and the fact that you would have to meet with me somewhere on campus.
Week 14 Storytelling: Ignorance is Becoming
John had a dream. It wasn't an extravagant dream by any means. He just wanted to be a fighter - a respectable fighter. He trained constantly, but he never felt like he was improving. Maybe it was because at the end of each day he would go pick up some Five Guys, pop open a Dr. Pepper, and sit on his couch and watch The Walking Dead. He drank water while he trained, he ate right while he trained, and he disciplined himself...while he trained. When he got home, however, all bets were off. What did he care, though? He was happy like this. Or lonely. He honestly couldn't tell the difference in some instances.
He had a big fight coming up and he really did need to start getting himself prepared in more than just the ring, but he didn't like the thought of it. He went into practice one day and stepped right up to the punching bag. He could hit alright, and he had an adequate speed to his rhythm, but he definitely did not pack the punch he needed nor did he have the stamina to keep up with his nearing opponent. He let his frustrations out on the bag, but was soon too tired to do much of anything for awhile. He went to the nearest bench and sat. His trainer walked over.
"What'ta ya doin' ova hea, John?"
"Oh, hey, Mick. I dunno. I'm just tired."
"Ya tiahed 'cuz ya weak! Ya need ta get out dere 'n get ta woik!" Mick stormed off.
John didn't like to talk to Mick. He was rather condescending. If John could just show his skill in the ring to Mick, then Mick would apologize for how rude he was to John...but that would mean that John would have to work and try really hard, and that didn't sound very enjoyable. He brushed it off and went home, though he didn't have any particular reason to do so. It was the same story as every other night. He recalled something a shady-looking man had said to him on his walk home: "A lotta peoples are countin' on you." He had handed John a little bottle and syringe.
John woke up the next afternoon and got ready for his fight. He trained a little bit but didn't want to get too tired. He thumbed around in his pocket for a minute and found the steroids the creepy guy gave him. He thought he might as well - a lot was riding on this fight, after all. As he walked into the arena, he felt his legs move slower and drag like lead was holding them down. His arms were becoming difficult to hold up. Everything hurt and spun. John fell to the floor, spazzing.
Author's Note
I took my story from The Emperor's New Clothes. Obviously, my take on the story is much different, but I think basic theme conveyed still stays intact. The idea that arrogance and ignorance make a bad combination is universal.
He had a big fight coming up and he really did need to start getting himself prepared in more than just the ring, but he didn't like the thought of it. He went into practice one day and stepped right up to the punching bag. He could hit alright, and he had an adequate speed to his rhythm, but he definitely did not pack the punch he needed nor did he have the stamina to keep up with his nearing opponent. He let his frustrations out on the bag, but was soon too tired to do much of anything for awhile. He went to the nearest bench and sat. His trainer walked over.
"What'ta ya doin' ova hea, John?"
"Oh, hey, Mick. I dunno. I'm just tired."
"Ya tiahed 'cuz ya weak! Ya need ta get out dere 'n get ta woik!" Mick stormed off.
John didn't like to talk to Mick. He was rather condescending. If John could just show his skill in the ring to Mick, then Mick would apologize for how rude he was to John...but that would mean that John would have to work and try really hard, and that didn't sound very enjoyable. He brushed it off and went home, though he didn't have any particular reason to do so. It was the same story as every other night. He recalled something a shady-looking man had said to him on his walk home: "A lotta peoples are countin' on you." He had handed John a little bottle and syringe.
John woke up the next afternoon and got ready for his fight. He trained a little bit but didn't want to get too tired. He thumbed around in his pocket for a minute and found the steroids the creepy guy gave him. He thought he might as well - a lot was riding on this fight, after all. As he walked into the arena, he felt his legs move slower and drag like lead was holding them down. His arms were becoming difficult to hold up. Everything hurt and spun. John fell to the floor, spazzing.
Author's Note
I took my story from The Emperor's New Clothes. Obviously, my take on the story is much different, but I think basic theme conveyed still stays intact. The idea that arrogance and ignorance make a bad combination is universal.
Wednesday, 12 November 2014
Week 14 Reading Diary: Hans Christian Andersen
I'll be honest, I know little to nothing in regards to Hans Christian Andersen. I have never actually read any of his works. The limited knowledge I do have is from watching Disney's adaptation of The Little Mermaid. Rather sad, isn't it? Well, regardless of where I receive my knowledge, it has definitely sparked an interest in reading this unit, so I say we should begin.
I've actually read the Princess and the Pea before, and it has always been an interesting story, maybe, but a really boring one as well. I have never liked that story for whatever reason. In fact, I've also read The Emperor's New Suit before, and that is a story that I really do enjoy. I think it is so funny when he ends up naked. A great lesson learned, as it were. The Brave Tin Soldier is also familiar, but barely. I do not know much about this story, nor do I particularly care for it as I read it. The other two stories in this half are also foreign to me, but they are kind of enjoyable to read.
Now, onto the Little Mermaid. It is quite different from the Disney film I grew up watching. How so? Well, first and foremost, there is no Jamaican singing crab, which is incredibly unfortunate. However, a lot more of the story stayed in tact, which was rather surprising. The greatest change I can think of is the ending. It ends quite a bit more cheerfully in the Disney version. Obviously, I can understand why they did that to the story. I mean, what will appeal more to kids - true love, or suicide?
All in all, a very good unit. It was a nice last week of reading and a good way to go out. We'll see what I do for my story retelling, but for the time being, it is nice to look over the unit as a whole and enjoy what I have read. I might have to go back and read through some of the stories again, just because I have the time and opportunity to.
I've actually read the Princess and the Pea before, and it has always been an interesting story, maybe, but a really boring one as well. I have never liked that story for whatever reason. In fact, I've also read The Emperor's New Suit before, and that is a story that I really do enjoy. I think it is so funny when he ends up naked. A great lesson learned, as it were. The Brave Tin Soldier is also familiar, but barely. I do not know much about this story, nor do I particularly care for it as I read it. The other two stories in this half are also foreign to me, but they are kind of enjoyable to read.
Now, onto the Little Mermaid. It is quite different from the Disney film I grew up watching. How so? Well, first and foremost, there is no Jamaican singing crab, which is incredibly unfortunate. However, a lot more of the story stayed in tact, which was rather surprising. The greatest change I can think of is the ending. It ends quite a bit more cheerfully in the Disney version. Obviously, I can understand why they did that to the story. I mean, what will appeal more to kids - true love, or suicide?
All in all, a very good unit. It was a nice last week of reading and a good way to go out. We'll see what I do for my story retelling, but for the time being, it is nice to look over the unit as a whole and enjoy what I have read. I might have to go back and read through some of the stories again, just because I have the time and opportunity to.
Week 13: When I Became a Writer...
One of the first books I recall really enjoying was Captain Underpants. Does anyone remember that? Those books were the literary equivalent of a Dickens novel. Anyway, these books were a hilarious and enjoyable read, but the highlight of them were the comic books within the actual story. The two main kids, George and Harold, would create comic books based around a superhero they made up, named Captain Underpants. They would write out these comic books, make copies using the school copier, and sell them to their fellow students.
Well, in my youth, I loved comic books. I loved to read, write and draw...so I started coming up with my own comic books. It would all be about weird-looking superheroes that consisted of my friends and I. I would do these epic stories of adventure, mystery and guns - must be a southern thing, but everyone had guns. I didn't sell them like the kids did in Captain Underpants, but I enjoyed making them and reading them. Strangely, this desire to construct comic books, and the practice thereof, stayed with me well into high school.
Of course, before high school, I enjoyed writing stories and things of that nature, but it really hit me in high school. In the most socially-awkward time in my life, I found great solace in the works of the Douglas Adams and Mark Twain, as I have previously stated. I also kept up the writing (and every now and again, the cartooning) and enjoy every minute of it. While I want to make it in the film world and write screenplays and direct films and such, I would also love to write novels and just continue my fiction writing any way I can.
Well, in my youth, I loved comic books. I loved to read, write and draw...so I started coming up with my own comic books. It would all be about weird-looking superheroes that consisted of my friends and I. I would do these epic stories of adventure, mystery and guns - must be a southern thing, but everyone had guns. I didn't sell them like the kids did in Captain Underpants, but I enjoyed making them and reading them. Strangely, this desire to construct comic books, and the practice thereof, stayed with me well into high school.
Of course, before high school, I enjoyed writing stories and things of that nature, but it really hit me in high school. In the most socially-awkward time in my life, I found great solace in the works of the Douglas Adams and Mark Twain, as I have previously stated. I also kept up the writing (and every now and again, the cartooning) and enjoy every minute of it. While I want to make it in the film world and write screenplays and direct films and such, I would also love to write novels and just continue my fiction writing any way I can.
Week 13 Storytelling: Death of Me
"Richard! Richard!! Where are you?"
I could hear them calling my name. It was faint and muffled, like the sound of the world above when you are under water. What had happened? I don't recall. It was dark and stuffy, and gradually warmer as I walked on, exploring the darkness. Who knows the vastness of where I had found myself. I could not see my hand in front of my face, and it was a sickening darkness. You know that feeling? Where the darkness hurts? That's what was going on. That's where I was...wherever that was.
"Where the Hell am I?"
"Exactly."
A voice from behind and it sent shivers down my spine, an icy chill despite the heat. I turned around and there was a man, standing tall and consumed by blue flame, though he did not cry out in pain. He extended his hand, and with much hesitation, I took it. He led me through the darkness, and even though his blue flame illuminated his aura, I still could not see anything around us. However, as we walked on, his flame grew brighter and the faint sounds of screaming grew louder.
"Where are we? What is this place?"
I would have stopped right then and there, if I had any willpower of my own. However, I kept walking with this demon, or angel, or chauffeur, or whatever he was. The surroundings became brighter with each step until we were in a room burning in eternal flame. It did not burn, but it definitely messed with my mind. In the center of everything was a man who wore sunglasses and a pin-striped suit. There was a briefcase at his side and, to be completely honest, he looked very much like a lawyer. He looked up at me as we walked in and stared into my soul. It felt so cold.
His grin was unsettling. "You already said it. You're in Hell."
I woke up.
Author's Note
I read Dante's Inferno for the week. I was not able to find just one little aspect of the story that I could work with, so I decided to do a sum of the entire poem. I also thought it would be funny if Satan was a lawyer. I don't know why. It just makes me laugh.
I could hear them calling my name. It was faint and muffled, like the sound of the world above when you are under water. What had happened? I don't recall. It was dark and stuffy, and gradually warmer as I walked on, exploring the darkness. Who knows the vastness of where I had found myself. I could not see my hand in front of my face, and it was a sickening darkness. You know that feeling? Where the darkness hurts? That's what was going on. That's where I was...wherever that was.
"Where the Hell am I?"
"Exactly."
A voice from behind and it sent shivers down my spine, an icy chill despite the heat. I turned around and there was a man, standing tall and consumed by blue flame, though he did not cry out in pain. He extended his hand, and with much hesitation, I took it. He led me through the darkness, and even though his blue flame illuminated his aura, I still could not see anything around us. However, as we walked on, his flame grew brighter and the faint sounds of screaming grew louder.
"Where are we? What is this place?"
I would have stopped right then and there, if I had any willpower of my own. However, I kept walking with this demon, or angel, or chauffeur, or whatever he was. The surroundings became brighter with each step until we were in a room burning in eternal flame. It did not burn, but it definitely messed with my mind. In the center of everything was a man who wore sunglasses and a pin-striped suit. There was a briefcase at his side and, to be completely honest, he looked very much like a lawyer. He looked up at me as we walked in and stared into my soul. It felt so cold.
His grin was unsettling. "You already said it. You're in Hell."
I woke up.
Author's Note
I read Dante's Inferno for the week. I was not able to find just one little aspect of the story that I could work with, so I decided to do a sum of the entire poem. I also thought it would be funny if Satan was a lawyer. I don't know why. It just makes me laugh.
Monday, 10 November 2014
Week 13 Reading Diary: Dante's Inferno
Oh, yeah! The Divine Comedy is one of the best stories ever conceived! I love Dante's work. The Inferno is one of the best writings that I've ever read. I absolutely love the idea of learning what Hell is when it is such a mysterious and vaguely-explained concept in the Bible and in mythology. Dante's writing just makes it that much better. His explanation for all of these unexplainable things that the majority of people (especially there in Roman Catholic Italy) believed is just sheer creativity and fantastic writing.
My personal favorite bit is the section revolved around Limbo. Now, this is a theory that I do not share, theologically, but it is an intriguing concept and definitely warrants reading and maybe some more time and attention than some other sections. I particularly love how it explains what happened to the characters in the Bible before Christ was around to bring salvation. As a kid growing up, that was always one of my biggest questions regarding Christianity. In the story, he goes into Limbo and frees all people who deserved to go to Heaven that lived before Jesus.
Getting into the second half brings out some of the best parts. I absolutely love the mix of Greek and Roman myth and Christian theology. I think the collaboration is really great and works out so well in Dante's work. Now, don't get me wrong, I prefer to keep them separated (like The Offspring would want), but it's a new twist, you know? Something fresh (despite its age).
My absolute favorite part of the story is the description of Satan. Weird, right? I just think it is so cool to try and describe something that has been a descriptive mystery for thousands of years. Plus, I oddly love how Satan is trapped in ice caused by the deepness of his circle and the wind produced by his wings. I also really love how his existence is punishment for Judas, Cassius and Brutus - those who have betrayed those they were meant to protect and love. Great stuff.
My personal favorite bit is the section revolved around Limbo. Now, this is a theory that I do not share, theologically, but it is an intriguing concept and definitely warrants reading and maybe some more time and attention than some other sections. I particularly love how it explains what happened to the characters in the Bible before Christ was around to bring salvation. As a kid growing up, that was always one of my biggest questions regarding Christianity. In the story, he goes into Limbo and frees all people who deserved to go to Heaven that lived before Jesus.
Getting into the second half brings out some of the best parts. I absolutely love the mix of Greek and Roman myth and Christian theology. I think the collaboration is really great and works out so well in Dante's work. Now, don't get me wrong, I prefer to keep them separated (like The Offspring would want), but it's a new twist, you know? Something fresh (despite its age).
My absolute favorite part of the story is the description of Satan. Weird, right? I just think it is so cool to try and describe something that has been a descriptive mystery for thousands of years. Plus, I oddly love how Satan is trapped in ice caused by the deepness of his circle and the wind produced by his wings. I also really love how his existence is punishment for Judas, Cassius and Brutus - those who have betrayed those they were meant to protect and love. Great stuff.
Thursday, 6 November 2014
Week 12 Essay: I Think, Therefore, I Write
I'm an introverted guy. I know most of you will read this and think, "Woah! No way! You're loud and obnoxious on your blog and my Comment Wall! You have to be the life of the party!", but the sad truth is that I'm not. I'm a relatively quiet and reserved individual. However, since my writing career started in the 4th grade, I have had an outlet - an infinitely large palette on which to paint the thoughts streaming from the mind of a decidely conservative individual. There are many reasons as to why I am this way, but psychoanalyzing myself is what the essay of my therapist is about - not this one. So, back to 4th grade:
I loved 4th grade. It was a very exciting time for me. You know why? The early stages of puberty, mostly, but also because I had an English teacher - and she was the one of the greatest things to happen to me. Her, and puberty, I guess. Moving on, she had us construct a portfolio, similar to what some students are doing in this class. We had to write five stories over the course of the whole year, and at the end, we should our favorites. Well, being the ever adventurous boy I was, I decided to do a serial over a character by the name of General Morgandorf (Don't Ask, Don't Tell). Of course, at the time, I could not tell the difference between serial and cereal (nor the difference between celery and salary), so it was just a fun collection of stories about the same character that always ended on cliffhangers.
Now, in high school, I had the second best thing in my life to happen to me (For those of you keeping track at home, this is technically third, if you're counting puberty as first or second). I had another English teacher, and she had us do a similar assignment. She had us pick three author's over the course of the semester, read some of their works, and then try to emulate their style in a creative writing assignment. So, being at this stage in my life, I chose three of my favorite author's at got right to work. I did an assignment over J.R.R. Tolkien, where I so attempted to mutate my dialect into more of an Oxfordian professor who could speak emaculately to the point where no one could possibly conceive that the heavy use of run-on sentences were escaping from the page, just under their noses, like that of a mysterious thief attempting to make off with the crown jewel of some long, forgotten kingdom of yore. I did one over Douglas Adams, which was conceptually a bit harder since I was dealing with a decidely more sarcastic form of British writing and which would have been a very entertaining read if it weren't for the irrefuttable fact that my story was so inexplicably boring. I also did an assignment over William Goldman (this was before I had read The Princess Bride, but after I had seen the movie).
The two above paragraphs can be summed up as this: I had some teachers who taught me that writing could be fun, and I enjoyed it. I enjoyed it so much that I understood the power of the written word, the ability to do so much with translating a thought into something visual and readable. I would love to write professionally, but the fear of a lack of steady income is a bit too much to push my writing outside of the realm of a hobby. With that in mind, I will wrap this essay up. I don't believe there is anything to do in terms of an Author's Note, so...good-bye.
I loved 4th grade. It was a very exciting time for me. You know why? The early stages of puberty, mostly, but also because I had an English teacher - and she was the one of the greatest things to happen to me. Her, and puberty, I guess. Moving on, she had us construct a portfolio, similar to what some students are doing in this class. We had to write five stories over the course of the whole year, and at the end, we should our favorites. Well, being the ever adventurous boy I was, I decided to do a serial over a character by the name of General Morgandorf (Don't Ask, Don't Tell). Of course, at the time, I could not tell the difference between serial and cereal (nor the difference between celery and salary), so it was just a fun collection of stories about the same character that always ended on cliffhangers.
Now, in high school, I had the second best thing in my life to happen to me (For those of you keeping track at home, this is technically third, if you're counting puberty as first or second). I had another English teacher, and she had us do a similar assignment. She had us pick three author's over the course of the semester, read some of their works, and then try to emulate their style in a creative writing assignment. So, being at this stage in my life, I chose three of my favorite author's at got right to work. I did an assignment over J.R.R. Tolkien, where I so attempted to mutate my dialect into more of an Oxfordian professor who could speak emaculately to the point where no one could possibly conceive that the heavy use of run-on sentences were escaping from the page, just under their noses, like that of a mysterious thief attempting to make off with the crown jewel of some long, forgotten kingdom of yore. I did one over Douglas Adams, which was conceptually a bit harder since I was dealing with a decidely more sarcastic form of British writing and which would have been a very entertaining read if it weren't for the irrefuttable fact that my story was so inexplicably boring. I also did an assignment over William Goldman (this was before I had read The Princess Bride, but after I had seen the movie).
The two above paragraphs can be summed up as this: I had some teachers who taught me that writing could be fun, and I enjoyed it. I enjoyed it so much that I understood the power of the written word, the ability to do so much with translating a thought into something visual and readable. I would love to write professionally, but the fear of a lack of steady income is a bit too much to push my writing outside of the realm of a hobby. With that in mind, I will wrap this essay up. I don't believe there is anything to do in terms of an Author's Note, so...good-bye.
Wednesday, 5 November 2014
Week 12 Storytelling: Three Hungry Little Pigs
A wolf was walking around his neighborhood one day, admiring some of the architecture that his neighbors had raised up in order to live in, when he noticed a new house - a brick house - with a pig laid up inside.
"How wonderful!" said the wolf. "A new neighbor! Well, I should go say 'hello'!"
So the wolf trudged up to the house, paw extended for a handshake, and saw the pig a bit more as he got closer. The pig was a big, burly hog, with 5 'o clock shadow at 3pm, a hardhat, and overalls with no shirt underneath which clearly revealed a tattoo of a heart with the word "Mom" in the middle of it. He seemed to be adding something to the side of his house.
"Hello, sir!" called the wolf. The pig looked up at him and stared. "How are you?"
The pig let out a snort and went back to his work.
The wolf was undeterred. "New around here?" The pig stared and snorted again. "Listen...I just wanted to let you know that we've got some fine turnip fields around here, if you wanted me to show you where they are."
The pig finally spoke up. "Alright, wolf. I'll go with you. Come back in an hour and I'll be done with this. Then we can go."
The wolf smiled, finally reaching a friend. "Okay, sir! I'll be back in an hour!"
As the wolf walked off, the pig watched him leave and then snuck away from his job, running off towards the turnip fields. After the hour was up, he already had more turnips than he would ever need and was back to his work on the house. The wolf walked up.
"Are you ready to go?" he asked.
The pig looked sympathetic. "Uh...actually, Mr. Wolf, I already went over there. I had to get back to work."
The wolf looked disappointed. "Well, that's okay. If you have any free time later, I can show you this great apple orchard! You'll never need to visit the grocery store again!"
The pig smiled. "Well, give me another hour and we can go!"
The wolf beamed. "Great! I'll be back in an hour!"
The pig watched the wolf run off and waited until he was out of sight, to run to the apple orchard and gather up several bushels of apples. He grabbed as many as he possibly could and then ran home before the wolf got there. The wolf came exactly one hour after leaving, and the pig was right back to work, the apples clearly visible.
"Y - you went already?" the wolf almost burst into tears.
The pig gave a sigh. "Yes, Mr. Wolf. I have so much work to do that I needed to get it done. I'll tell you what, though. I want to make it up to you, so how about you give me two hours, and then come over. I'll cook dinner for us."
The wolf looked happy all over again. "Okay! I'll be back in two hours!" The wolf ran off gleefully.
The pig began to get a pot boiling over a fire and set up plenty of apples and turnips for a stew. He worked tirelessly getting things ready until the wolf was knocking on the door, two hours later. The door was locked, but the pig called for him to come in. The wolf tried turning the knob. Nothing. The pig walked up to the door and called out, "You really have to push to get it open!" The wolf tried harder. The pig told him to try running at it, and as the wolf backed up, the pig unlocked the door. As the wolf came running, the door opened and the wolf ran right into the pot of stew. The pig quickly closed the lid, sealing the wolf in.
That evening, the pig had a lovely wolf stew, and leaned back in his recliner picking his teeth. "I hope I get to stay here awhile. My neighbors are delicious!"
Author's Note
This was initially taken from The Three Little Pigs. In the original tale, most everything in my story happens. The wolf is eaten by the pig. I thought this to be so strange, I had to retell it. I decided to make the pig a psychopath and the wolf a nice guy. Why? Because that's more fun.
"How wonderful!" said the wolf. "A new neighbor! Well, I should go say 'hello'!"
So the wolf trudged up to the house, paw extended for a handshake, and saw the pig a bit more as he got closer. The pig was a big, burly hog, with 5 'o clock shadow at 3pm, a hardhat, and overalls with no shirt underneath which clearly revealed a tattoo of a heart with the word "Mom" in the middle of it. He seemed to be adding something to the side of his house.
"Hello, sir!" called the wolf. The pig looked up at him and stared. "How are you?"
The pig let out a snort and went back to his work.
The wolf was undeterred. "New around here?" The pig stared and snorted again. "Listen...I just wanted to let you know that we've got some fine turnip fields around here, if you wanted me to show you where they are."
The pig finally spoke up. "Alright, wolf. I'll go with you. Come back in an hour and I'll be done with this. Then we can go."
The wolf smiled, finally reaching a friend. "Okay, sir! I'll be back in an hour!"
As the wolf walked off, the pig watched him leave and then snuck away from his job, running off towards the turnip fields. After the hour was up, he already had more turnips than he would ever need and was back to his work on the house. The wolf walked up.
"Are you ready to go?" he asked.
The pig looked sympathetic. "Uh...actually, Mr. Wolf, I already went over there. I had to get back to work."
The wolf looked disappointed. "Well, that's okay. If you have any free time later, I can show you this great apple orchard! You'll never need to visit the grocery store again!"
The pig smiled. "Well, give me another hour and we can go!"
The wolf beamed. "Great! I'll be back in an hour!"
The pig watched the wolf run off and waited until he was out of sight, to run to the apple orchard and gather up several bushels of apples. He grabbed as many as he possibly could and then ran home before the wolf got there. The wolf came exactly one hour after leaving, and the pig was right back to work, the apples clearly visible.
"Y - you went already?" the wolf almost burst into tears.
The pig gave a sigh. "Yes, Mr. Wolf. I have so much work to do that I needed to get it done. I'll tell you what, though. I want to make it up to you, so how about you give me two hours, and then come over. I'll cook dinner for us."
The wolf looked happy all over again. "Okay! I'll be back in two hours!" The wolf ran off gleefully.
The pig began to get a pot boiling over a fire and set up plenty of apples and turnips for a stew. He worked tirelessly getting things ready until the wolf was knocking on the door, two hours later. The door was locked, but the pig called for him to come in. The wolf tried turning the knob. Nothing. The pig walked up to the door and called out, "You really have to push to get it open!" The wolf tried harder. The pig told him to try running at it, and as the wolf backed up, the pig unlocked the door. As the wolf came running, the door opened and the wolf ran right into the pot of stew. The pig quickly closed the lid, sealing the wolf in.
That evening, the pig had a lovely wolf stew, and leaned back in his recliner picking his teeth. "I hope I get to stay here awhile. My neighbors are delicious!"
Author's Note
This was initially taken from The Three Little Pigs. In the original tale, most everything in my story happens. The wolf is eaten by the pig. I thought this to be so strange, I had to retell it. I decided to make the pig a psychopath and the wolf a nice guy. Why? Because that's more fun.
Tuesday, 4 November 2014
Week 12 Reading Diary: English Fairy Tales
Welp, I chose this unit because the description had a bunch of stories that I recognized. I thought, "Okay, this will be an easy unit. I can kinda take a load off for a few days and focus on some of my other classes!" Nope. In truth, I only knew one story completely as it was told here. You know what story that was? The Three Little Pigs. I felt like such a kid. I mean, don't get me wrong - that has always been a great story - but what good does that do me now?
Now, as far as these stories go, they are all really good. Mouse and Mouser was a particularly enjoyable tale, but I really can't calculate any special reason why. I just liked it. Then again, I can probably say that for most of these stories. The Master and His Pupil was also an enjoyable story, though I feel as though I've read something similar before. I don't really know why.
For the second half, I was excited to read Mr. Fox, because I assumed it was Roald Dahl's The Fantastic Mr. Fox. These stories are not the same. If Dahl received inspiration for his story from here, that would make sense, but it is definitely its own fairy tale. It was a great read and everything, but I still felt a little disappointed when it wasn't quite the same story.
The rest of these stories are honestly hit-and-miss with me. I enjoyed The Laidly Worm of Spendleston Heugh and Johnny-Cake. However, there were a few that I just did not like. Like the very last story - Fairy Ointment? If that story isn't enough to turn you away, the actual story will take care of it for you. Anyway, all in all, it was a good unit, but not one of the best. However, this is just one man's opinion, and anyone else who might read this should actually take it into consideration.
Now, as far as these stories go, they are all really good. Mouse and Mouser was a particularly enjoyable tale, but I really can't calculate any special reason why. I just liked it. Then again, I can probably say that for most of these stories. The Master and His Pupil was also an enjoyable story, though I feel as though I've read something similar before. I don't really know why.
For the second half, I was excited to read Mr. Fox, because I assumed it was Roald Dahl's The Fantastic Mr. Fox. These stories are not the same. If Dahl received inspiration for his story from here, that would make sense, but it is definitely its own fairy tale. It was a great read and everything, but I still felt a little disappointed when it wasn't quite the same story.
The rest of these stories are honestly hit-and-miss with me. I enjoyed The Laidly Worm of Spendleston Heugh and Johnny-Cake. However, there were a few that I just did not like. Like the very last story - Fairy Ointment? If that story isn't enough to turn you away, the actual story will take care of it for you. Anyway, all in all, it was a good unit, but not one of the best. However, this is just one man's opinion, and anyone else who might read this should actually take it into consideration.
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