Claire's Writer Workshop

Saturday, November 18, 2006

WA 5, Draft 2: An Unusual Surprise

As she walked into class on the first day of school at Baltimore High, Melanie’s, eyes were drawn away from her book by the smell of marshmallows roasting on an open campfire. When she looked up she was so intrigued by the person standing before her that she had to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. As she scanned the room to make sure she was in the right place she noticed the name Ms. Hill written on the blackboard.

This classroom was unlike any other, not to mention the teacher. As Melanie quietly slipped into a desk she noticed that she wasn’t the only one confused as to where this teacher came from. Melanie tried not to be rude and tried to go back to reading her book but as her beady blues peered over the cover what she saw was astonishing. Lining the normally dull brick room were posters covering every square inch of the walls. The most interesting thing though was the treasure chest that sat right in the middle of the room.

“Quiet, please,” Ms. Hill said, in a rough, raspy voice that radiated throughout the whole room, as the second bell rang.

The class became immediately quiet, although it had been merely whispers that broke the silence in the air as the students came through her door. Ms. Hill stood at the front of the room in a leopard print jumpsuit with fire engine red glasses outlining the circular shape of her wrinkly, weatherworn, face. As she waved her hands around the room, Melanie noticed the gold, sparkly gloves that encased her slender hands and the many bracelets that wrapped like vines up her arms. Scanning Ms. Hill from toe to head she suddenly came to her face. Her face resembled that of a lion. Blond, orange, and red curls streamed down her back like a mane. Large, round dark brown eyes surveyed the students as she looked around the room. The nose, however, drew the most attention, as well as the ears. The nose was stunted at the end like it had decided to stop growing years ago and the ears were as big as a monkeys and an unusual color, perhaps a result of the many colors she used to dye her hair.

The students introduced themselves in Ms. Hill style, which was to say your name backwards, imitate your favorite and animal and explain in another language why you were taking her class. After they were all finished introducing themselves, which took quite a while, Ms. Hills talked about herself. She was brief and very vague about her life, which made the students all the more interested in the story of her life. As the period came to an end she asked if there were any questions. Nobody raised their hand and so Ms. Hill sat down, took off her purple, sparkly shoe, and her jewel encased sock and preceded to pick up a piece of chalk with her toes. Then she wrote what would be happening in class tomorrow, with chalk in between her plump, pinky, big toe and the slender, brownish one next to it

As Melanie watched the teacher she wasn’t sure if she wanted to raise her hand but shyly she reached her hand into the air, toward the ceiling, painted with stars and moon, which she did not often do. Her fingers began to uncurl and Ms. Hill immediately whipped around from the notes she was writing on the board and pointed at Melanie.

“I…I was wondering if you would mind telling us, what that treasure chest has inside,” Melanie quietly said.

“It holds the treasures and secrets of the world.”And with that the bell rang.

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

WA 5, Draft 1: Finding Unusual Treasure

As she walked into class on the first day of school, Melanie’s, eyes were drawn away from her book, by the smell of marshmallows roasting. When she looked up she was so intrigued by the person standing before her that she had to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. As she scanned the room to make sure she was in the right place she noticed the name Ms. Hill written on the blackboard.

This classroom was unlike any other, not to mention the teacher. As Melanie quietly slipped into a desk she noticed that she wasn’t the only one confused as to where this teacher came from. Melanie tried not to be rude and tried to go back to reading her book but as her beady blues peered over the cover what she saw was astonishing. Lining the normally dull brick room were posters covering every square inch of the walls. The most interesting thing though was the treasure chest that sat right in the middle of the room.

“Quiet, please,” Ms. Hill said as the second bell rang.

The class became immediately quiet, although it had been merely whispers that broke the silence in the air as the students came through her door. Ms. Hill stood at the front of the room in a leopard print jumpsuit with bright red glasses outlining the circular shape of her face. As she waved her hands around the room, Melanie noticed the gold, sparkly gloves that encased her slender hands and the many bracelets that wrapped like vines up her arms. Scanning Ms. Hill from toe to head she suddenly came to the face. Her face resembled that of a lion. Blond, orange, and red curls streamed down her back like a mane. Large, round dark eyes surveyed the students as she looked around the room at her new subjects. The nose, however, drew the most attention, as well as the ears. The nose was stunted at the end like it had decided to stop growing years ago and the ears were as big as a monkeys and an unusual color, perhaps a result of the many colors she used to dye her hair.

The students introduced themselves in Ms. Hill’s style, which was to say your name backwards, imitate your favorite and animal and explain in another language why you are taking her class. After the were all finished introducing themselves, which took quite a while, Ms. Hills talked about herself. She was brief and very vague about her life, which made the students all the more confused yet interested. As the period came to an end she asked if there were any questions. Nobody raised their hand and so Ms. Hill began to write interesting facts about the world on her board.

Anna wasn’t sure if she wanted to raise her hand but she shyly reached her hand into the air, which she did not often do. Her fingers began to uncurl and Ms. Hill immediately whipped around from the notes she was writing on the board and pointed at Anna.

“I…I was wondering if you would mind telling us, what that treasure chest has inside,” Anna quietly said.

“It holds the treasures and secrets of the world.”And with that the bell rang.

Monday, November 06, 2006

WA 4, Draft 3: Unending Story

A boy stands frozen in the blowing wind,
Bundled inside his jacket he warms his hands blowing on them.
A girl stands waiting alongside this boy she does not know.
Both standing alone they steal glances at each other,
Wondering what the other is waiting for.
The girl is shivering with no jacket for warmth.
The boy offers small talk
To end the awkward silence in the air.
But neither is warm enough to speak.
The boy caringly hands his jacket over to the girl
And the girl accepts the jacket with a simple smile.
Neither moves,
Snow falls,
And ice begins to form on the tip of the boy’s nose.
Not knowing what to do
The girl takes his hand,
And holds into within hers.
Unalarmed by her presence
He moves closer.
In a second the moment is gone,
A car pulls up,
The girl quickly pulls away,
And hands the jacket back.
She smiles with her eyes,
And leaves too fast.
No words exchanged,
A friendship begins,
And never ends.
Throughout high school,
Neither speaks of this one moment they shared.

Each remembers this special time
During the breakups,
And fights,
They each face.
They hear about one another,
And pretend to not listen
About the awful times each is going through.
During those times,
You need someone to care,
Someone to be there,
And share.
Each cares
About the other,
Yet they still do not move,
To share their emotions.

It took awhile,
Then one day,
The boy passes in the hallway,
Slips a note in her hand,
And thus begins,
An unending story.

This force that bonds them together
Never leaves.
It is a connection,
That binds them together,
An unquestionable emotion.

Through fights and furies
Neither hurries.
Through sadness and depression,
There waits a better time.
It is strengthened,
It is weakened,
But can never be broken.
They are similar,
They are different,
But the flame that bonds them together
Never ceases.