Writers week

Man walks into bar-ouch!

Stroy 2

Man walks into a bar and sits at the furthest stool, away from others. He orders a drink, "PBR," and realizes its only 2:00 pm. His wife again doesn't want to hear his troubles at work and seeks refuge on the corner bar where his daughter once held his hand to cross the street.

"So what brings you in here?" the bartender says. Hal realizes theres only one person sitting in the bar.

"Just trying to get away from the wife and lookin fora job."

"O ya lots of people have been looking for it at the bottom of a glass lately, damn rescission." Hal wants to tell him about how he lost his job three years ago, how his daughter is absent form his life, how his wife who was once sweet is know bitter no thanks to him.
"Yup, damn rescission," was his only reply. He didnt want to get into it with the bartender. He had enough about talking about. Now he sits looking at the yellow blur of his reflection in a glass. An answer so oblivious but frighting, like a congested cross walk with a familiar face on the other side. He just wish, and was afraid to admit, something that he could never tell his wife, that he needed someone to help him cross.
Story 3

Man walks into a bar in a crowded Saturday night. After a few drinks he sits with his Friends and they talk about there childhood. He watches the entrance every time someone walks in. In bars and restaurants his eye will wonder like it has ADD but his mind could care less. Its late and a Priest walks in, he sits down at a booth in front of him and his friends. No one pays attention. Then Micheal Jackson walks in and is waved by the priest, an hour later Ronald MacDonald walks in and takes a seat with them. Mike, freaked out, has to get up and excuse himself to the bathroom, scared of what he has just witnessed. He texts his friend who is oblivious or could not see them...


Kim Chinquee


750 words, that’s all it takes to right a flash fiction piece. Kim Chinquee made it sound easy, a two page story that will keep the reader’s attention. If only it were that easy, for a writing student it seems impossible. A story may be two pages but there is always to little or too much. What is that makes a good flash fiction piece? Chinquee told the audience of her background and the trial and error stage as a writer. How she and her editor would go over her stories and be honest at its power as a piece of fiction. For a writer that would be great but as a student the idea of your work always under the microscope is daunting. But I always remember.

When I was younger the writing world seemed dull and boring.My dis-enchantment began in school of all places. Books where assigned in remedial classes, never finished and chapters skipped since many could not finish or pay attention. When asked to be moved up so that I could be challenged I was denied, for reasons still unknown. Books and writing seemed to sound the same and even amateur, I was slowly turning into one of my fellow pupils. Then I looked around. Air ports, Barnes and Nobles, and any library have books come in and out. They were never read and never discussed something I would fear if I choose to become a writer. Writing then seemed more like a doomed hobby in the modern world of electronics. I did have ideas, and I was creative but to place words on paper felt pointless like they would slide right of the sheet.
Then I read Random Family for college. A thick book, with a black hard cover making it look time consuming. It wasn't till I read it that I became hooked. It wasn't hard to understand, it didn't need a teacher to point out all the metaphors and genius of the writer. No students raising there hand and making fun of the situation rather than trying to understand it. It was there, point blank, and simple. Adrain LeBlanc had taught what countless other teachers had failed, writing can be simple, beautiful and most of all full filling.

master of lego

Summer can get boring, very boring, so much that cleaning is an actual distraction and not a chore. I woke ready to watch tv and do nothing else until my mother hollered at from the second floor to clean the garage. I didn’t want to move but I was sure my eyes were frying and my IQ had gone down from watching to much Mad TV. Cleaning then became a good distraction.
I was lucky the smell of exhaust had left the garage after my father had gone to work or else I would just give up. The closets were in the back of the garage and had only two lights. This is one part of the house I didn’t want to think of. It had spiders, luggage, drawers, old Halloween decorations, paint, gardening supplies, and everything we didn’t need but didn’t want to throw away. While moving the luggage out I saw a few large plastic bins filled with toys. I had always thought my mom donated all my toys but I was nostalgic seeing them.
Tucked away in the corner were four large transparent plastic containers. I could see the mosaic of colors the Lego’s as I pulled them out. I finished cleaning, and left the four containers out. When done I was done I brought one upstairs to see what condition they were in. Opening up the container was like opening up a time capsule, remembering all the colors and creativity that they had provided. I remembered then that maybe that’s what made the summer so boring. It wasn’t that there wasn’t anything to do, but a les creative drive. I had used it all up for school and now I was exhausted.
I played around with some of the pieces but then decided to do something I had never thought, use all the thousands of pieces in one creation. I grabbed the largest platform and begun to build. My mom and dad would peek into my room and think maybe I had lost it. I didn’t care I kept working. I was lucky at the time I was taking an architecture course which gave lots of inspiration. I would make hypostyle courts, which led up to the tower and Spanish Andalusian style windows, and at the top a block terrace with a Chinese roof to make for good composition.
I had enjoyed so much that when I ran out I didn’t know what to do. I had some pieces left over and decided to see what else I could make.

master of...

Ignacio Lopez
Master of…

Abstract lego making
Fantasy design making
Good excuses
My thoughts
Planing
Day dreaming
Directions
At fondue
Videogames
Shoveling

Encyclopedia Pick

J, by Michelle

I have to pick this entry because it sticks closer to Amy's book Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life. Each entry tells a little about her without going into much detail. She shows through action, and tells through what little detail she offers us, together they create a picture of the writer.

love

Loving someone means forgetting all their flaws

Loving someone means loving all their flaws

Love means never being original