Reflective Blog

1. What are your plans as a writer (how do you expect to use writing in your future)?

I would like to polish my poetry and start sending it out there for publication. I am also thinking about doing writing workshops and creative writing classes.

2. Describe any changes in your writing style?

I changed my usage of grammar because I am now more conscious of the proper way in which to use it in an effective way to make the sentence strong. This has helped me get my point across without the use of big words and long, run-on sentences. It has also helped me structure my sentences correctly and more fluidly.

I have also found a way to shorten my paragraphs in order to make them more punchy and get my point through. This, in tandem with being more fluid in my structure, has help dramatically prove my writing.

I also waned the excessive use of literary device to get my point across. As a poet I believed this was the way to show the reader your feelings and meaning yet it is different in all forms of writing styles so I am able to identify when it is correct to use it, and not.

I am also able to reread my work and see if something does not fit just from the phonetic rhythm. Then, I can go back and fix it so it flows better.

3. Describe any changes in your writing process?

I have a difficult time in my writing process. First-off, i put an exorbitant amount of pressure on myself to produce thus stunting myself in the process like a deer in headlights. If I were to just say what I were already thinking on the paper without the added pressure of words, syntax, literary device, grammar, grades, spelling and perfection; then I would be able to get my point across in no time. This does not happen so I end up with anxiety and an extension, if I am lucky.

Secondly, I never know what my concept fully is before I write and this makes the writing process more of a challenge for me because I am almost journal writing at the time. Then, when I go back half of my work is garbage and needs to be discarded and rewritten.

One very frustrating aspect of my writing process is that I write in illusion of the concept and this ties in to the former paragraph. This leads me to a crazed-state because then I have the potential of having to re-write my entire essay all over again to be more direct.

4. Describe any changes in your attitude toward/interest in/understanding of writing in general, and CNF in particular.

CNF made me more frustrated with writing as it was a mega challenge for me. I am a poet in natural talent and these two forms of writing oppose each other in many ways. Longer forms of writing are harder for me as it is more of a commitment of time, concept and story and I felt lost at inept at making these commitments.

It made me question my ability as a writer because I could not master the skill as much as I had hoped for myself. I even questioned whether I wanted to use my skills in a future profession anymore.

5. What have you learned about yourself as a writer?

I have learned about how metaphoric I am in my writing and how and when to use it. Now I know when my use of big language is too over-the-top and will underscore the meaning of my work.

I have learned of the two voices I tend to use in my writing and the stream-of-consciousness that polarizes the two voices. I have a dualism in my writing and i found that to be interesting.

Most important lesson for me was learning of the style in which I tackle writing a story. This lesson will hopefully help me alter my writing process so as to allow the flow of my writing as opposed to the pressure of perfection.

Also, it takes me awhile to realize what I want to say as I am a process writer/thinker. I work things out slowly sometimes through writing as it is a catharsis for me. This is why it takes me time to have a Eureka moment.

6. What features of your writing do you feel are most important for you to work on?

I feel I have a lot to work on in terms of my writing. I want to work of my process most specifically so as to make it run smoother for me. If I am able to make the process more fluid and less pressured, then I will be able to produce more frequently and effective work.

I want to learn how to use my metaphoric style yet combine it with some direct language. I also want to work on saying less with more. I am going to work on brainstorming so as to come to the core of my concept before writing. This would make the writing process a lot easier for me.

Publication Venue Selection!

Publication: Ecotone

Voice: Narrative, Literary, Journalistic

Audience: Ecotone caters to people who tend to roam the realms of the environment within themselves and around them and take notice of the little things in these realms. It is for those that seek the microcosm as well as the macrocosm that is the universe.

Purpose: To bring the natural world and enliven it through words. Make the audience more aware of our daily worlds and senses surrounding us in the natural world.

Subject Matter: The environment, including human, animal, natural and the connection between the worlds.

Submissions and Editor's Request: Submission and Reading times done between Aug 15-April 15. Memoir and Novel works are "self-contained" or as I saw, single spaced. Only one submission per genre and may submit same works to other magazines yet must contact Ecotone if accepted. No electronic submissions. Must send full name, address, and address to the editor: David Gessner; and include a S.A.S.E if you want a response from them which will come within three months. Submissions must be done in the Chicago Manual of Style.

Creative Writing Department
University of North Carolina Wilmington
601 South College Road
Wilmingtom, NC 28403-3297

NO PAY and No Charge!!
Website: info@ecotonejournal.com

Theme/Style/characteristics of work they want: "Ecotone is always looking for dynamic, original and boundary-breaking...borders, boundaries, the natural world, and the human world."

Examples of Other Essays: I read from Ecotone Volume I Number 2, the story: "Whole Hog" by Tenaya Darlington and the poem Morphology, or the study of morphing by Bob Hicok. Both were the study of people. The CNF essay was segmented and literary and was the study of a burly meat and potatoes, Americanized in contrast to Naturalistic-Vegan-Hippie type neighbors who dance Sufi style and fast. The poem is an intense study of the self and one's ability to change and the way the environment impedes of helps this. Other stories I wrote had this same self-actualizing, reflective, intimate voice that studies humans and gives some realization to the connections around us. Reg Saner sheds essay "Lions in the Streets" sheds light on the environmental encroachment.

There are two issues a year, usually every six months.

I chose Ecotone because I am a nature-oriented individual who enjoys studying people, the environment, animals and the universe we live in. Two of the CNF essays I wrote pertained to Ecotone's theme so I felt drawn to it thus felt it was perfect for my own "niche".

Learning the Language of the Earth= Essay 3

I was first introduced to the Watchung Reservation when I was fifteen years old by my new high school friend. She took me there as a place to escape from the rejection from the rest of our peers. Somehow these woods came to serve as a playground for the alternative lifestyle we decided to lead away from the normalcy of the forced suburban American dream. It was where she and I could escape the demeaning eyes of the surrounding hubbub, the cackled whispers of pimpled teenagers, the suppressing expectations of others to be a cookie cut out Barbie doll wonder.

At this point while I growing up I needed this kind of place like a toddler needed its parents. Being encapsulated into a suburban whisper squelched my free spirit. I grew up in a place of picket fence perfection; houses lined up in a row with exact precision of space, trees ripped from the ground to build build build, animals forced to flee so far away that they never returned. In my school Caucasian was the majority with a speckle of color or difference found in the crevices. The “different” kids were tormented and pushed from the school because of their dandelion ways. We were outside of their fences and growing around it like ragweed.

I ran to the enigma of the Watchung Reservation as often as I could. It served most of the purposes I needed. The beginning years of our relationship were that of a child’s awe and discovery. Ali and I would bring our mediums for expression in our quilted corduroy backpacks and recreate our surroundings. We would fumble with a blanket and hide in a quiet region of land away from the possibility of people. This allowed our creativity to be wild, free from the world of judgment. We would observe the cadence of the leaves change with each season and gather inspiration from them. We would become the clouds in the sky and listen to the meditative rustling as the wind passed through the trees.

Being home made me feel like I was locked in a Mason jar and stored in a cellar. There was always constant noise of some kind hissing in the background like static; the buzz of a lawnmower, screaming children playing outside, a party across the street, an unruly barking dog. This was maddening next to the proverbial peace of the Reservation’s open space. There was constant intrusion from windows on top of windows-neighborhood nosiness lurking in the corner. I felt eyes glaring and faked flaked smiles chipping off the white painted fences. Whenever I went for a bike ride I was choked from pollution pushed down my throat. I called for my mother in choked sighs.

My relationship became deeper with the woods as I got older. She was always reliable to my thirsty spirit. I could use her and she wouldn’t care. I would stampede through her dirt, lie on her grass, cry in her soil, hug her bark and she would silently comfort me. My family would repeat in their worrisome tones, “You should never go to the reservation alone. There are a lot of crazies out there. Always bring another person with you.” Yet, I felt safer in the woods then anywhere else. I did not fear her; I trusted her. People hurt me more then she did and while I was there her haven would protect me.

As I got older I became more aware of the noise and pollution like a poison that radiated my skull. It gave me pain behind my eyes or made me feel like a disparate child. I felt separate from this world, like an ancient mythological theme in a textbook. Everyday in class we would read about it and shut the book on my life. I wanted to crawl out and relive my buried world. I felt out of place in this metropolitan haven of noise and crowds, pollution and television. I just wanted to run around in the woods like a warrior and live in a modest hut. I wanted a tribal life of relying on the biorhythms of the Earth. I broke and broke and cracked every time I saw pollution and waste and marked trees. I was not of this time or this world.

Her fortress was my escape to solitude. Life outside of the woods was hellish and when I entered her walls it was my time to be of her once again. I did not want to be a part of hustle-bustle, noise and buy. I was earth, air, fire, water. I was not in the chains of society’s labels, driven by the mass to separate and judge. I was carbon. I wanted a freedom to be whatever I wanted, see whatever I wanted, love and live however I wanted. So I laid myself down on the carpet of her leaves and blended into my surroundings; to give to the Earth, to be of the Earth. I was the Earth.

As I got older I began to just go to the woods and drive through the wild curving streets. I would open up my window, turn my music off, stop in the middle of the woods and shut off my headlights. I would just sit in the absolution of darkness and listen to the sounds of emptiness. I would hear my breath wheezing back at me, feel the air touch my body like a lover, and smell the season like a perfume. I would feel my heartbeat in fear of another car crashing at a racing halt into the back of my car. At those moments I wanted to be one with the innocence of the night. I wanted the Earth to take my body and transform it into a floating particle. One night in mid-November I got out of my car in a wind storm. The evening was ominous and the trees were full of wisdom as the blustery winds murmured through them. There were rain speckles hiding my own tears. I was full of woe and needed to become one with the energy of the storm and let it singe my pain away into the freezing air. I roamed in absent-minded sobs around the lake while a full moon guided me deeper into the woods. I treaded and she comforted me like no human could.

The woods have been a shell that has grown around me and I live in her like a hermit crab. If I chose to leave to another home, I will, but this shell has wrapped around my body so tightly that I feel one with it. I left for a little while and I felt like I forgot who I was. I am the Earth, the Earth is me.

Essay 4 suggestions

Edgar gave me an idea to begin my story from the perspective as an adult and reflect to what I know now, as opposed to childhood. I think that might work since I am writing about independent thought from religion and questioning of what was taught rather then belief in what they fed me. So if I write as an adult who is in an adult state of mind and then reflect back and forth it could work nicely.

I was also told to use my imagery since I did mention that in the blog. It was a very vivid memory so I think I will work with the visualization aspect of it to make a descriptive piece.

Essay #4 idea

I am going to write about a profound memory I had as a child that left a spiritual imprint on me. It is extremely vivid and I have not forgotten a single minute detail. This will give me plenty to work with in terms of description and detail.

As for the story, I want to make it about the revelation of one's indepedence and ability to think for yourself. It is in refrence to religion and a child's realization that religion questionable.

Blog #15 In the Open:Empty

All of the places I have formed a connection to in my life are in nature. Some of the other places are family vacation homes or areas. These natural places are special to me because they are an escape from the suburban hubbub that I was forced to live in.

The most important place has been the Watchung Reservation, which is five minutes from my house. I have been visiting it since I was 14, watching the seasons change on my favorite trees. It has been a place for me to express my emotions, release tension, get some exercise, meditate, be with a loved one, and be creative. It is my sacred place.

When I am here no one is there scrutinizing my every move. No one is telling me I need to dress better or act more lady like. I roll around in the dirt there. I talk to the trees and I don't give a hell if anyone stares. It is just nature and me. The same massive rock that always lets me sit on it and write and cry. The same tree that dips into the water and touches the reflection like siamese twins.

I need this place sometimes like I need my mother. It is my solace. I went here one night after a breakup with my long term boyfriend and walked in a blustery fall storm. I cried on the dark trails and wished for the rains and trees to help me disappear. I was not afraid.

New Essay Idea

For my Essay #3 I would like to build off of the blog in which we had to look into something hidden and write about it. I had looked in the basement and found the chest my grandfather made and found a made a connection with the chest and his sickness. I would like to make the theme of the Essay Impermanance and how life is fleeting, just as things are.