In this blog post, I have created a video blog to answer questions regarding the second draft of my narrative project. To help me compose this second draft, I have read What is Fan Fiction--and why is it making people nervous? and Rewinding and Rewriting: the Alternate Universes in Our Head. Here is a link to my narrative project web page.
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To help revise my blog, I read My Mother Gives me a Writing Lesson (Martin Lee). In this blog post, I revised my version of Composting a Past Scene by adding a back story and more detail.
“Dad! Watch where you are going.” I yelled. At this moment, I had realized that I should have never gotten in the car. It was around 6:00 p.m. when my dad got home from work on a typical fall evening. “Taylor let’s go.” He yelled up the stairs. Immediately I knew he was drinking. The overpowering smell of beer entered my nose. His eyes were squinted and he slurred his words. I gave him a dirty look as he was yelling at my little brother for absolutely nothing. I tell my little brother, Adan, and my little sister, Adriana, to not respond to his comments and to just listen to him. We got in the car and I refused to look at him. The car ride was absolutely silent. My siblings refused to talk. He cursed at every car for doing something wrong. I was so angry since we had planned for a couple weeks to go to Delaware to get our hair cut by one of my dads friends. I don’t know why I would think this day would be any different from the rest but still. This one day, one day, he had to get drunk and I was angered. We were driving down the windy Dutton Mill Road as I was nervous by his driving. “Dad! Watch where you are going!” I yelled. “Stop telling me what to do.” he replied. I started to to fight with him. Back and forth we argued as I felt bad for my siblings in the back seat. “Dad pull over! Now. Now!” Adriana fought back to my dad, “Just go back home.” He sped into this empty bar parking lot right before we got on I-95. “Get out.” He yelled firmly. I was crying by this point as I turned around to Adriana and Adan, “Come on guys, hurry up. Get out.” They stared back at me in complete fear as Adriana was on the urge of crying. They weren’t responding to me as I had hoped. They slowly unbuckled their seatbelts but not fast enough. I was trying to overtalk my dad and get them to listen to me but it was clear that they were scared of my dad telling them the complete opposite commands as me. “Don’t you move.” He stared at them. “Get out of the fucking car!” he yelled at me. I refused since my siblings weren’t allowed out of the car and there was no way I was letting them stay alone with him. I started to plead to just take us home. That angered him more. He was so heated and was expressing it towards me as we began to make our way back to my house. I felt major relief as I stared out the window, tears falling from my eyes. He rambled on as a tuned him out. All I wanted to do is lay in my bed. Alone. We pulled in my driveway as I grabbed my siblings and rushed up to my room to hide. We heard footsteps coming up the steps shortly after. He forced Adriana and I to give him our phones as my sister sobbed. I went in the office to get the house phone and called my mimi. “I will be home shortly” She said calmly. “Just stay away from him” as I hung up the phone. We tip toed around my house the rest of the night trying to avoid him at all costs. The next morning, he had left our phones on the counter. From this day on, no apology, no acknowledgment of that day ever happening. My dad has been an alcoholic for as long as I can remember which was a major cause in my parents divorce when I was five. Mimi is my grandmother who lives with my dad, siblings and I. Since I was a little, I was always a “Daddy’s Girl”. As I got older, I slowly drifted away due to the effects of his drinking. In present day, he has not had a drink for about 6 months but our relationship is dry and I don’t think it will ever recover. To prepare myself for this blog post, I listened to a podcast, What You Don’t Know (Lulu Wang). In this blog post, I will be explaining a past scene where I made a decision that had a negative impact on my life.
It was around 6:00 p.m. when my dad got home from work. “Let’s go.” He yelled up the stairs. Immediately I knew he was drinking. The way his eyes were squinted and he slurred his words. I gave him a dirty look as he was yelling at my little brother for absolutely nothing. I tell my little brother, Adan, and my little sister, Adriana, to not respond to his comments and to just listen to him. We got in the car and I refused to look at him. The car ride was absolutely silent. My siblings refused to talk. He cursed at every car for doing something wrong. I was so angry since we had planned for a couple weeks to go to Delaware to get our hair cut by one of my dads friends. I don’t know why I would think this day would be any different from the rest but still. This one day, one day, he had to get drunk and I was angered. We were driving down the windy Dutton Mill road as I was nervous by his driving. “Dad! Watch where you are going!” I yelled. “Stop telling me what to do.” he replied. I started to to fight with him. Back and forth we argued as I felt bad for my siblings in the back seat . “Dad pull over! Now. Now!” He sped into this empty bar parking lot right before we got on I-95. “Get out.” He yelled firmly. I was crying by this point as I turned around to Adriana and Adan, “Come on guys, hurry up. Get out.” They weren’t responding to me as I had hoped. They slowly unbuckled their seatbelts but not fast enough. I was trying to overtalk my dad and get them to listen to me but it was clear that they were scared of my dad telling them the complete opposite commands as me. “Don’t you move.” He stared at them. “Get out of the fucking car!” he yelled at me. I refused since my siblings weren’t allowed out of the car and there was no way I was letting them stay alone with him. I started to plead to just take us home. That angered him more. We began to make our way back to my house as I stared out the window, tears falling from my eyes. He rambled on as a tuned him out. All I wanted to do is lay in my bed. Alone. We pulled in my driveway as I grabbed my siblings and rushed up to my room to hide. We heard footsteps coming up the steps shortly after. He forced Adriana and I to give him our phones as my sister sobbed. I went in the office to get the house phone and called my mimi. “I will be home shortly” She said calmly. “Just stay away from him” as I hung up the phone. We tip toed around my house the rest of the night trying to avoid him at all costs. The next morning, he had left our phones on the counter. From this day on, no apology, no acknowledgment of that day ever happening. Hills Like White Elephants (Ernest Hemingway) In this blog post, I will compose a present scene with dialogue and symbolism. I read Hills Like White Elephants (Ernest Hemingway) to help guide me in composing this scene. Below I wrote about my niece coming over for the day. I’m sitting on the cool leather couch on a rainy, miserable Sunday afternoon. My sister, Alyssa, repeatedly texts my mom bugging her to come over because she’s bored and my mom rolls her eyes. My mom turns and says, “I have to go get Alyssa and the baby.” “Okay” I reply. “I’ll watch Harper.” I try to distract my Harper so she doesn’t see “Nana” leave and have a huge meltdown. We play with babydolls as I swaddle one in a pink flowered blanket and feed the babydoll with a fake bottle as Harper imitates the baby drinking. About ten minutes later, Alyssa and her baby Nevi barge through the front door with a diaper bag and car seat along with other baby items. I rush towards the the baby carrier and take her in the family room. I unhook her buckles slowly as I pull her fragile arms out of the straps. She is still cozy in her pajamas as she starts fussing to eat. Alyssa yells from the kitchen, “I’m making her a bottle now.” I rock Nevi to try and calm her down as she lets out the most innocent little cry. I grab her burpee and rest it under her neck to catch any drips of formula. She starts to slurp down the bottle making little grunting noises as I cherish these little moments. My mom plays, “Sweet Home Sextuplets” on the TV as I panic for the family. “Omg, imagine having 9 kids!” I say shocked to my mom. She replies, “I know, right. I couldn’t even imagine.” Nevi finishes every last drop of her bottle as I lay her on my shoulder to burp her. She lets out a couple little burps and poops. Alyssa and I lay her on the changing table as she stretches out. “This one’s all for you” I tell Alyssa. She changes the dirty diaper as I take over to change her out of her Pjs. I change her into the cutest little flowered button up hoodie, little pink leggings, and the tiniest socks I have ever seen that were still too big for her. Just as I finish, she spits up all down the front of her outfit. I wipe the majority of the spit up with the burpee and look at Alyssa a little frustrated. “So I guess this is what you have to deal with, huh.” I say as the whole outfit has to come off after being on for less than a minute. For this blog post, I read What is Creative Nonfiction? (Lee Gutkind), Making Scenes in Memoir (Lee Martin) and My Name is Margaret (Maya Angelou). After reading these articles, I wrote a narrative scene describing a rush filled hour of getting to a babysitting job.
It’s currently 5:50 p.m. on Saturday as I’m shoving my last few bites of pasta down my throat. I quickly rush to the kitchen, run water in my dish, and kiss my family goodbye. It’s now 5:56 and I speed off in my car. I’m driving out of the development and I look in my dashboard and I have less than a quarter tank of gas. Now, I am stressing even more as I am sitting in the New Jersey gas station parking lot waiting to be served. Time seemed to be running away. I have to be in Lower Merion to babysit at 7:00 p.m. as those words replay in my head. I begin to speed on the ramp as my bag and belongings slide across my backseat. The bridge approaches as I thank the toll man and carry on with crossing the bridge. Once I arrive to my house, I sprint in the back door and run up my stairs to shove some clothes in my bag and quickly exit my house soon after. I put on The Weeknd to soothe me on this stressful drive have ahead of me. I then start heading towards the blue route as I catch all red lights. Only when I am late everyone is driving slow and I catch every. single. red. light. The directions on my phone are taking me a different way then it normally takes me so I was hoping it was a faster route. I’m on the blue route going 65-70mph, hoping no cops are around. I start to enter the neighborhood-like roads as the trees swarm the road on either side. I look down on my phone as it says I will arrive at 7:00 p.m. on the dot. I feel the nerves exiting my body slowly but surely as I begin to enter the vibe of my music. I travel down the winding, pothole filled roads as I approach the house. I grab my backpack out of my car and walk in the front door as my little cousin, Zoe, runs at me with open arms yelling, “TT!” |
Taylor DannakerI will use this blog to write about moments in my life where I hope you can understand me a little more. Archives
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