This course has been dedicated to teaching the elements and qualities of good writing, and how to include those elements in improving our everyday writing. We studied various tools to use to enhance our writing such as how to construct dialogue, properly use punctuation, avoiding tense shifting, and discovering our distinctive voices as writers. The first learning cycle was devoted to the components of writing, essentially improving our writing as a craft. The second learning cycle focused on the aspects of poetry, how it’s created, how it differs from prose, and what makes a good poem. The second learning cycle brought us into learning about the creative aspects of writing, rather than a craft. The third learning cycle taught the difference between truth and fiction in writing, the heroic cycle, and the various aspects of plot and character.

I feel like I have improved my writing tremendously throughout the semester. I believe I was the most challenged in the first learning cycle, as it focused on teaching the craft of writing. I consider myself to be more closely linked to the artistic side of writing, and didn’t know much about the overall structure in the beginning of the course. Though at first it was challenging learning about the rules of writing I had never heard before, I benefited the most out of learning these skills necessary to write in the first learning cycle. Learning these skills early on helped, as  I was able to implement them in the units after. Knowing about the basic skills greatly improved my writing over the semester.

In the beginning of the course I struggled with the editing process, both giving and receiving criticism. I often don’t take criticism well, so at first I wasn’t thrilled about the idea of it. I also didn’t want to give any criticism out of fear that my group mates would be discouraged from writing. Eventually I warmed up to the idea and was able to give feedback that would help my group mates improve their writing.Though I realized that criticism is necessary to improve as a writer, I also made sure to include something positive about my group mate’s work. I was also able to receive feedback and use it to correct mistakes I had made.

Going into university next year, I will need to develop writing skills as I will need to communicate ideas thoroughly and clearly. Communication through writing is a priority for me because most of what university consists of is writing essays. Not only in post-secondary, but many jobs in the future  involve some form of writing. Even if I don’t end up as an author or a poet, I will always be using the skills I’ve learned in the course in the future.

After this course is finished, I still plan on keeping reading and writing a part of my life. Even though I have improved my skills in terms of grammar, verb tenses, and  dialogue structure, there is still much more I have to learn. For example, I have spent the majority of the course focusing on writing fiction instead of nonfiction. In the future, I think I would like to explore nonfiction writing and develop my skills in that area. I will need to write in the future for university, but I will try and continue writing in my spare time, even if it’s only for me.

Being reassigned at work seemed to be the worst thing to happen to me, but when God himself is my boss, I couldn’t exactly argue.

I was only messing around with some friends. Apparently you can’t have fun in the admissions department because “it causes a disturbance” and “people are turning to the devil”, whatever that means. You’d think if these people spent their whole lives dedicated to God then they wouldn’t be swayed by a few angels joking around. I’m doing the Big Guy a favour, if you really think about it. If you aren’t dedicated enough to deal with getting a bottle cap chucked at your head then Heaven probably isn’t the best place for you. People don’t feel pain once they’re dead, so it’s really more of a mild annoyance than anything.

I guess I should be thankful I didn’t get fired. I knew someone who did a long time ago, and though I never found out what happened to him, rumour is that he wound up in some black hole on the other side of the universe. Others say that he became Lucifer’s right hand man, and I don’t like that reality either. We did get an ear full from the boss, though. Our group was reassigned to different sections. I pulled the short end of the stick and ended up at Heaven’s one and only Doggy Daycare.

 

Getting sent to the Doggy Daycare was the worst kind of punishment for me. Dogs absolutely despise me, and the feeling is definitely mutual. They drool, they bite, and if they start barking, you don’t know if they’ll ever stop. In my opinion, if you’re planning on getting a pet, make it a fish. Unfortunately, I don’t have any say in the matter. This is reality now.

My first day on the job was excruciatingly long, to say the least. I got to the daycare and was immediately sent out with a few thousand dogs attached to me by a multi-leash. The rest of the day consisted of rotating dogs every time I would come back, and the feeling of constant frustration that they can’t fly. Flying is a much faster way of getting around, and is my preferred way of travel, but that would lead to me dragging the dogs along rather than walking them. A couple little Pomeranians in particular loved to take their time, their own way of making me infuriated. One round I had the entire cast of 101 Dalmatians, mischief and all. I started to wonder if they saw me as Cruella de Vil.

The rest of that week went by similarly. Attach a few thousand puppies to their leashes and let them run around in the open instead of in the little park they had at the daycare. I began to recognize some of my regular balls of fluff, mostly because they tended to be the first ones at the gate, ready to go when I got into work. They were always the most energetic group of them all, which meant I can get a good run in the morning. They were good dogs, though I still didn’t forgive them for drooling all over me.

Over the weeks I began to notice a little Australian Shepherd perched by the entrance every morning. While normally I would consider these kinds of dogs to be as excitable as my first group of pups, this one seemed different. He barely looked up, his snout always buried

under his paws as if he was trying to block the world out of his mind. He was always waiting at the front door, the shade covering him like a blanket as he slept. Many of the dogs being taken care of are waiting for their owners who haven’t gotten to Heaven yet. The unfortunate few will never get the chance to see their owner again. I wondered if this dog was one of them, waiting for someone who’ll never show up.

Eventually my curiosity got the better of me. I asked one of the caretakers and found out that the dog’s name was Ace. He was one of the unlucky few on the adoption list, his owner never having made it to Heaven. He would end up there at that front door for the rest of eternity, just waiting. There was a way for these dogs to be adopted, but many of the residents of Heaven have their homes full of previous pets. Ace would get adopted eventually, but nobody knew how long that would be. Taking it as my personal mission to keep Ace from waiting forever for nobody, I decided to get him to come out for a run with me.

Getting Ace out of his spot by the entrance was more difficult than anticipated. I had tried to lure him out of his resting spot a few times with treats, but to no avail. Chew toys and playing fetch didn’t seem to interest him either. I couldn’t engage him in anything, it was like he wasn’t even a dog. I eventually gave up, slumping down beside him in defeat.

“I hope you don’t mind if I sit here,” I said. The silence in response reminded me that I was talking to a dog, and probably wouldn’t be getting much of a conversation. I decided to lay down a treat next to him to see if he would accept my peace offering. Nothing. I turned my head away and in the corner of my eye I saw a nose lift up from under his paws and swiftly scooping the treat into his mouth.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” I asked. I stood up to grab a leash and collar and turned around to face him. I waited for Ace to give some sort of noise of disapproval, but nothing came. A few moments passed. Then, a little paw stepped out into the light. I clasped the collar around his neck and lead him out past the gate. We started walking and I noticed that Ace was picking up speed. I quickened my pace, and in turn, so did he. Soon after we were running at full speed down the path. Ace was showing no signs of stopping, mouth wide open, tongue hanging out and tail wagging. He was finally free, we both were.

During the third learning cycle, we have focused on the qualities of fiction versus nonfiction storytelling. We have learned about the effective concepts to include in storytelling and how to weave those qualities into our own works. My comfort zone is with works of fiction, and since all of my writing prompts have been fictional stories, it’s safe to say I kept in my comfort zone.

For the summative assignment, I chose to expand on my first writing prompt of the learning cycle. I chose this writing prompt because I thought it was the most interesting piece I had developed out of the four and I wanted to see where I would take the story. Originally, I had an interesting story that didn’t fully explain the actions of the main character, so I took this as an opportunity. In the final version, I went into more detail as to why the main character, Lilith, continues to take pictures despite knowing it traps their souls inside. I also included a recurring metaphor of Lilith’s darkening eyes which I think added some depth to the story. The mirror plays a vital role in the story, as Lilith looks toward her reflection multiple times seeking guidance, and ultimately uses the mirror to trap herself as well.

This learning cycle has taught me a lot about the different aspects of storytelling. I knew before this learning cycle that I was much more skilled in writing fiction. While I had stayed in my comfort zone for the writing prompts, I would consider expanding my skills in nonfiction writing in the future.

I consider myself to be somewhat skilled in understanding and including the concepts of storytelling. I have greatly improved my writing over the course of this learning cycle as I have been able to distinguish my strengths from my weaknesses and work to improve those weaknesses. For example, I was not good at writing dialogue because I wasn’t aware of the rules associated with that. When I wrote the dialogue writing prompt, I used the lesson as a reference and I improved a lot in that aspect. In the future I would like to improve my writing skills in nonfiction works, since my writing in this learning cycle has been fiction. Overall, I think this learning cycle has taught me about many aspects to good storytelling.

Click.

With every picture she took, a soul came along with it. They were hers to keep. Scattered photos on her bedroom wall screamed, begging for their freedom. Some cried out her name, “Lilith! Lilith!” but she wouldn’t listen. She was protecting them, couldn’t they see that?

The first life she took was her sister’s. Her name was Angelina. They had been exploring the forest behind their cottage, chasing each other in a spirited game of tag. Angelina’s little legs couldn’t keep up to her big sister’s, but still she tried. Lilith jumped over a fallen tree and ran further into the forest. Angelina followed suit, but lost her balance and fell. Lilith turned back when she heard her sister’s cry, and found her huddled with a Polaroid camera in her hands.

“Do you think it works?” Angelina asked.

“Only one way to find out,” Lilith answered. She took the camera from Angelina and pointed it in her direction.

Click.

A photo popped out, Angelina’s toothy smile shining back at her. Lilith looked back up at the spot her sister had been in and saw nothing. She was only there a moment before that. Where had she gone? A faint cry for help brought Lilith’s eyes back to the photo, where her sister was pressed against the confines of the paper. Lilith couldn’t believe what she saw.

Was this real? Lilith had never seen anything like this before. Before this incident, she would have never believed that someone could hold a life captive in a photo. The idea seemed to be straight out of a science fiction novel, or perhaps horror would be better suited for the situation.

“Oh my God, look at you,” Lilith said, “I guess this means I win this round of tag.”

“Lilith, Stop joking!” Angelina yelled, “Help me get out!”

“I’ll figure that out soon, but for now I need to hide you from Mom and Dad,” Lilith replied.

She shoved the picture into her pocket, fearing the wrath of her parents. She walked back home, taking the camera with her. When her parents asked where her sister went, she said Angelina had run off on her own. She kept her hand in her pocket, covering the screams coming from the picture.

Lilith went to here room and pinned Angelina’s photo on the wall. She stared at her sister banging on the edge of the picture. She turned to look in the mirror secured to her wall, watching her reflection stare back. Her once dark brown eyes seemed to become pure black in an instant, as if to warn her of the dangers ahead. She knew telling her parents was out of the question, she could figure out how to get her sister out on her own.

Though, maybe it was better this way? Lilith knew her sister wasn’t happy in the photo, but she would eventually get used to it. Angelina would never have to worry about the rest of her life; she would never be hurt again.

Lilith looked back at her sister, and back at the mirror. The two black holes that were once her eyes drew her in closer. She ignored her sister’s cries.

It became an obsession. The rush she felt when she found a new soul to capture was unbelievable. That feeling would eventually fade, and she would need another to bring it back again. She made it her mission to save lost souls from the dangers of the world. Lilith knew all too well about how cruel society could be. She kept her collection on her wall, slowly building up over time. With each photo taken, another missing person poster was added to the board in the town square. People around the own were slowly becoming terrified of this potential serial murderer. The police hit dead end after dead end. The bodies were never found, Lilith made sure of it.

She noticed her parents becoming more curious about her refusal to let them in her room. Lilith would avoid the question by running off saying she was going to clean her room, often locking herself inside. She looked in the mirror, hoping to see a path back to the light. Her reflection only taunted her with those blackened eyes she had become so accustomed to.

Eventually, her parents insisted on entering. When Lilith refused once again, her mother pushed through with her father close behind and entered to find a living nightmare.

“What is this?” Her mother asked, horrified of the sights in front of her. She scanned the wall, hundreds of faces looking back at her. They all screamed back, some desperately banging on the barrier in between them and freedom. One in particular stood out among the rest, one calling for her parents, “Is that your sister?”

Lilith grabbed her camera and pointed it at her parents, “I’m sorry, but I have to do this,” she said. She pressed the button down before they had time to react. They were gone. She pinned their picture next to her sister’s on the wall.

It wouldn’t take long before the guilt had started to set in. Lilith had taken so many lives, and ended it all with the people she cared about the most. She wasn’t saving them, she was keeping them as prisoners. She knew what she was about to do was far from atoning for the crimes she had committed, but if she was to condemn them for eternity, then she would serve the same fate.

Lilith picked up her camera. A deep breath in, and out again. She was going to do this. It was the least she could do for the people she had kept as possessions for so long. She walked up to the mirror and pointed her camera at her reflection. The pitch black eyes in the mirror burned into her own, she knew what she had to do.

“I’m so sorry.”

Click.

During the second learning cycle, we have been taught the different types of poetry and the methods applied to create a well-balanced piece. I was interested in poetry before this class, but I never dove deep into it like we have over the course of these few weeks. Throughout this cycle, I have learned what poetry was, what comprises it, and what qualities are included in a good poem. For the final assignment, I chose to expand on my fourth writing prompt because I felt that it was a more personal topic. I chose to write about a sentence that I hear often working as a cashier, and I’m sure most people who have ever been to a store have heard before. I found a connection with this sentence to the societal norm of saying we’re doing well even if we aren’t to be polite. I decided to expand on the idea that we have to lie about our wellness to not burden others with our problems. This topic was quite personal to me because I often feel like I’m not allowed to need any help and I suffer more for that reason. I feel like many people could understand this feeling of needing to keep emotions hidden, so I thought it would be a suitable topic. I feel like poetry is a way of reaching out to others and I wanted to accomplish that with my writing.

This learning cycle has given me the opportunity to improve my writing skills greatly. I became more aware of tense shifting and when it was an appropriate time to change tense in a story. Most of this cycle was dedicated to learning about poetry and all aspects relating to the creation of poetic writing. While I enjoy reading poetry, I never knew enough about the structure and creation process to write some of my own. The lessons I learned throughout this learning cycle gave me a much better insight into the inner workings of poetry. The editing process helped my writing as well, especially hearing feedback from my classmates. I have found that I often make my poetry more story-like and I was able to correct that.

Editing the work of my peers was somewhat difficult for me, since I didn’t know much about poetry. I felt like my comments wouldn’t be up to standard and not contribute to helping them improve their work. For this reason, I focused more on parts of their work that spoke to me or lines that I liked. I feel like positive feedback is important in the editing process because I’m often questioning my skills, and if I’m unsure about certain lines, having feedback helps me know what I’m doing well and what I have to improve. Overall, I think I have learned a lot of new information about how to improve my poetry. I hadn’t written much poetry before this learning cycle, but now that I know more about how to write a good poem I want to continue practicing my skills in the future.

Every day I hear it,

The same sentence repeating endlessly

“Have a nice day.”

 

I’m supposed to have a nice day,

That’s what I’m told to do.

So why am I not feeling nice today?

 

Everyone is a stranger.

They’ll never know how my day ends;

My life doesn’t matter to them.

 

Behind this fake as plastic smile

I’m dying inside,

Slowly feeling less alive.

But my feelings don’t matter.

 

Just have a nice day

Because you’re supposed to.

 

I’ll just push the anxiety back down into my chest

Where I’ve been told it belongs.

Don’t talk about your day.

Nobody cares.

 

But have a nice day anyway.

 

In my hand lays a match.

The other holds my worries,

Serving as the fuel I need to strike

Setting my world ablaze.

 

Nobody can see the burning in my blood

Because I’ve never been asked.

I’ve never been taught how to put the fire out.

I’ve only been told not to light it in the first place.

 

And while the fire devours me whole,

I look out to everyone around me.

They’re perfectly fine.

 

I will never have a nice day.

 

I’m lost at sea,

Stuck in a raging storm,

A sinking ship stuck in darkness,

Anchored to my sorrows.

 

Is this what a nice day is supposed to look like?

 

Suddenly, light shines through the dark.

A lighthouse

guiding me back to shore.

Hope runs through my veins once again.

 

Could this be my chance at a brighter day?

This could be the beginning of a new journey,

A quest for a truly nice day.

 

I may not be sailing in smooth waters,

But at least I have a little bit of light to guide me home.

During this learning cycle we used prompts to expand our knowledge on certain components of writing. We had four prompts that addressed the main issue of remaining consistent in our writing. In our first prompt we focused on the detail in our stories. For example, if we were to say that this character is happy, we would instead describe the emotion by their actions and facial expressions. The second and third prompts were about creating a consistent voice in writing. We learned that in the point of view of one person, it shouldn’t sound like multiple people speaking. Our last prompt was about how the style of writing should change to suit the audience. The way we would write an essay and a personal letter would not be the same style.

I found that I was somewhat challenged with what was required with the prompts. I’m very good at writing essays and in first person, but that’s just about the extent of my skills. Writing in third person was new for me, which I think made the prompt somewhat worse than the original group storytelling in first person. For my final assessment for this learning cycle I chose to expand on the second prompt. For this assignment, I considered the second prompt to be the strongest in terms of my writing. I feel like the words came naturally to me, this was because it was in my perspective and I find it easier to write about the truth. I often use writing to let out my feelings as a form of therapy, so this prompt was an obvious choice.

I really enjoyed the collaborative storytelling activity. At first, I wasn’t sure what to think of it. I tend to keep my work to myself and don’t work on writing with others often. The only group work I’ve had in storytelling was peer editing in English class. The concept of working with others on a story was unfamiliar, but I was surprised by how much I liked it. I would love to do another activity like that in the future.

I learned many valuable lessons in this cycle. Since I’ve only ever written for assignments, this was a good opportunity for me to try new writing styles. I’ve become better at writing in third person, which has inspired me to write more short stories in the future.

For the next learning cycle, I intend to improve on sticking to the deadline for the assignments as it became a challenge for me to stay on task in the beginning. When I fell behind, I often used the weekend as a time to keep up. I will work to make sure that I don’t need to use the weekend as often. I find that for the prompts that I enjoyed, such as the one I expanded on for the summative assignment, were finished on time. The prompts that I didn’t like I ended up putting off. I will be working to change that for the next learning cycle.

I’m afraid of change. It’s as simple as that. I like my life to follow a pattern, that way I can expect every outcome. I’d be perfectly content leading a predictable life. I’m often labelled as boring in that sense. Though I suppose my desire to live a boring life originates from my insecurities of being a disappointment. I won’t let anyone down if I’m met with the same circumstances every day. I can’t make mistakes if I know what’s coming. The world is changing too quickly, and I just can’t keep up with it all. I’ll get left behind.

I’m always getting left behind.

I have to learn to adapt to my surroundings. I don’t need change, but it seems as though I don’t have a choice in the matter. No matter what, I can’t seem to make myself the way I should be. I’m supposed to be someone who can handle any situation, but I’m not that person. I would like to see who I would become if I wasn’t so afraid, though I know I won’t take that risk.

This is my last year of high school. I won’t be able to hide behind the comfort of my unchanging routine for much longer. Everyone I know is making plans for the rest of their lives. Everyone but me apparently. My friends all know what they want, they’re preparing for their future and all the new experiences they’ll have. Some are playing it safe, staying close to home. Some are already packing their bags, ready to leave as soon as they can. They all know what they want.

And I’m just here.

My best friend is staying in town for university. She’s pretty much the only guarantee I have in my life, that is, as long as I stay close to her. We both need each other right now, but it might not be like that if I moved away. She’d be fine without me. She’d move on, make new friends who would love her so much. I don’t know if I could do that. I was leaning towards staying in town because of the safety of being at home, around people I know. I haven’t exactly been good at making friends, so I would like to keep the few that I have.

It took me five years to make friends that I can talk to, one of them being the only person I trust, my best friend. We understand each other. The reason for this is most likely because we have a similar standing on the awkward-anxiety scale. We bond over not being able to talk to anyone except each other. At least if I stayed in town I could have someone there with me. I don’t want to be alone.

I know it sounds completely insane of me to want to stay in town for a close friend. I don’t have the experience necessary to maintain a life that constantly changes. Especially not with new friends. I need to allow myself to get out of town and experience life. I need to learn to let go of my past and accept my fate. Things change, and I know that’s impossible to control. I have to be okay with that.

But I’m not ready.