Relevant Tangencies

Mon, 17 Oct 2005 01:46:26 GMT

IOU a small blurb

Because My Roots Are Planted In You

Sat, 28 May 2005 05:24:03 GMT

Because my roots are planted in you
They hold me down and keep me from
Ascending to lofty heights
From flying into the uncertainty uncontrollably
There are times when I want to take you by the ears
Fingers threaded through your hair
When I want to smash your forehead
Against the hard, smooth surface of reality
And watch as your hopes and dreams and hate
Flow
Out through your ears
To puddle on the linoleum floor
In one clear pool of…(but in your) blood
Flows the muddy waters of the Yellow River, so please deliver
Me from your sins, the ones within, beneath
Below the surface of your deep rooted Asian exterior.
Because my roots are planted in you
And in the angry waters of the river that
Flows from the land of your youth

Random Bits and Pieces...Brainstorms
(from a month ago)

There is a time in the middle of the night, somewhere between three and four, when everything becomes so much sharper. The darkness beyond you and your reading light stretches on for so long that you’re sure it touches infinity. The shadows become clear-cut and stand out with utter fierceness upon the white walls. When the light from the lamp as it shines between your fingers is so blindingly bright that it continues to blind you even as you close your eyes. When you can’t fall asleep because you’re afraid that you will lose yourself to the night in your dreams. You become a shadow then, a part of the night itself.
At that elusive hour between three and four, that is where I would like to stay forever. That place where everything is more real than it is when the afternoon sun shines on the warm concrete and sunburned bodies of summer. This is closest I can ever come to knowing who it was to be Lena.

In my room there is a painting of hummingbird that rests entirely on a single feather. My sister brought it back from some business trip in Jamaica, or Hawaii, or some island country that travel agencies like to show pictures of to weary businessmen. Some far off place with sandy beaches, tanned bodies, and Pina Coladas in coconut shells. How the hummingbird is captured on a single feather. How the whole rests on the part. How within each finger, each cell, there is an imprint of our being. Sometimes when I’m involved in the monotonous task of cleaning, I’ll find a sock, or a jacket that Lena left behind the night she disappeared. I like holding them up, searching for her in each filament, finding her eyes, or the feel of warm skin in the sunlight in the perfect machine stitched seams.
I’ve never known anyone who has so thoroughly insinuated herself into my life. She was like soft clay from the riverbank, oozing with cool smoothness beneath the door. She set down in the frayed edges of my dusty sofa, turned solid with the passing days. And while her image faded from my living room, she left behind dust particles, each one holding a replica of Lena Uchida—her face, the frown she always wore when she was concentrating on a particular bit of her sculptures.
I was in love with her, it wasn’t like we had a lesbian dynamic going on. I think that we had the deepest sort of love, the type that won’t perish with the disappearance of one half. The type of love where I know that I will never miss her. Because she isn’t gone. Not really. Her presence has settled in for good, in my sofa, in the rug, in those deep recesses of my mind that control my dreams and thinking.
I am waiting for the bus to come, sitting on the sidewalk. There is a bench, but the concrete warmed by a day of sun is so inviting. I even take off my sandals, and push my feet flat on the ground, feeling the roughness in between my toes, gently scraping at the soft skin on the inside of my foot. The sun was coming down, and I am trying to finish a reading for class when I noticed the shadow of my hand on the page. The dimming light makes it the deepest, richest blue I have ever seen. It just goes on and on and on, and in it I can smell the fresh scent of the summer night. I hold still, staring at that blue the color of the eternity for as long as I could. I know somehow, that it will fade with the setting sun, so I looked and looked and looked, trying to absorb it with my eyes and into my soul. The ethereal properties of beauty, the fleetingness of those things that are the most beautiful; these thoughts hit me suddenly like one of those game show gongs. Suddenly I feel like crying.

Yet at the back of my mind, I could feel this supernatural warning go off. What lay beyond that door was something that would change my life forever; that if I opened that door, everything would be turned upside down. I didn’t know if it would be a good thing, a bad thing, or even if that feeling in my head was just that. A feeling. If I have to think back and pick the bravest thing I have ever done, it would be opening that door. That was how strong these waves were. I felt like I was drowning, and I didn’t know whether I should just stop flailing and sink to the bottom, or to continue to struggle.

I opened the door.

“Took you long enough.” ____ said.

I hadn’t seen Lena for four years. She was my roommate my first year of college. After that one year, I’d moved in with some old high school friends of mine, and she faded from my social network. I’d heard somewhere that she had dropped out. I remembered

Bah...I need to write more...

Up in Smoke

Mon, 28 Feb 2005 08:50:53 GMT

Up in Smoke
By Erin Loury

Summary
Cheryl, a high school student, is an accomplished artist, and is on her way to gaining a scholarship. However, she has to paint a final painting to submit to the panel of judges. She doesn’t know what to paint, and she finds her muse in a boy that she meet, and has wanted for a very long time. Eventually, high school relationships disintegrate, as they are meant to do, and she finds herself heartbroken. She puts all her energy, her anger, and her disappointment, into one masterpiece of a painting. Yet, disaster strikes again, and the painting is burnt, along with the school’s art studio. She realizes that she needs to let go, to uncoil all her emotions, and start anew. The story ends with hope, as Cheryl begins to paint again…this time something beautiful and bright.

Negative
There’s really only one thing in this story that made me go “huh?”. It was the maturity of the characters, and the age issue. I don’t think that seventeen year olds would be that mature. I understand, that in order for the story to work, you needed that contest, and that contest was only for highschoolers…or something? Either way, I think it would have been much more believable if they were older (twenty something possibly, or at least in college). Also, one teeny thing that kind of confused me was the unbelievably close way Toby acted with the main character on the first page. Unless they were dating beforehand (you didn’t specify either way) I don’t know if guys really do that. Especially seventeen-year-old guys. There were also a miniscule number of grammar mistakes scattered throughout the story, but nothing significant.

Positive
I think that this is my favorite story to date. Definitely exploding with detail and characterization and voice. Loved the descriptions of the girl painting, and the emotions behind the entire narrative. I really liked the first line, as it told me so much about the story, even before I finished it. There are so many beautiful lines in this story that I can’t detail them all here. Suffice to say that you have many quotable lines. You know, the stuff that you’d find in the profile of someone’s xanga/livejournal. The cheesy profound stuff xD. Awesomeness. Really.

The Box

Mon, 28 Feb 2005 08:49:42 GMT

The Box
By Eric Brodberg

Summary
A classic case of man versus himself conflict, The Box, details the emotions of Sean, as he battles turmoil within himself. A metaphor for how life has trapped him, the box containing his gift is always inexplicably at the edge of the plot. Sean eventually gets advice and profound wisdom from the generic guru on the mountain (in this story, an interesting character/hermit). Sean reaches his epiphany, and decides to cast aside the box that is trapping him, to live his life for himself.

Negative
I personally did not think the ending was all that strong. The epiphany was there, but it wasn’t as shocking as one would think. Also, it isn’t explained as well. Why did he throw away the box, when it seemed as if he should’ve kept it? Because you set up a lot of the story to suggest that he would find his girlfriend at the end, and then you just take it into a whole new direction. It left me feeling a bit jerked around…and wondering if the story really did end that way, if it was really supposed to end that way. The running in the beginning should have been a bit clearer. Why was he running? I know the reason was there, but why exactly? Be clearer, as it seems like something profound that I just didn’t catch.

Positive
I like the descriptive passages, especially the way you showed the dismal, empty room. The characters surroundings reflected the characters’ personalities, and I enjoyed that immensely. There were many passages in this story that were memorable, and I’ll probably mention them in class on Monday. Also, I liked the way your story flowed. The way the sentences were structured to match the pace of the story. Enjoyed the metaphor of the box/being trapped immensely. It wasn’t too obvious, but it wasn’t subtle to the point of annoyance. Loved the box, yep. Overall, good work. Really enjoyed this piece

Jamie

Mon, 28 Feb 2005 08:49:06 GMT

Jamie
By Eric Yoshizuka

Summary
James, a socially inept boy, has set up a meeting with a girl he’s met online. This story details the days until he meets with her…and eventually brings us to the time and place of the meeting. Only to twist the plot around, showing that the girl really isn’t a girl, but is a boy. (Or so I would assume). Then, it takes us around again, showing a subtle epiphany that James has had…by having him get over his social ineptitude. We are left with a feeling of hope for the main character

Negative
Didn’t really take to the dialogue. It works for stories like Natasha…but here…it lacks certain “oomph”…or something. Anyway, I think it’s best you changed either the dialogue, or the presentation of it. Also, the progress of the story is a bit stiff. Sometimes, it seems like you’re just listing a bunch of things that your main character did. It reads more like a detailed laundry list than a story (only sometimes though!). Also, the ending seemed a bit trite, though the message was not lost on me. I think that you need to show a bit more of James’ personality. Show more emotion in the way he interacts with people. Actually, I think that’s the problem with the dialogue. In Natasha, the boy and the girl were a bit more apathetic than James. The way the dialogue is presented sort of implies that James is apathetic, while the words he says so another personality. The personalities clash and it just doesn’t work as well.

Positive
I enjoyed the paragraph that began with “James counts the number of stops until the next one is his…” It was really descriptive, and had a lot of “atmosphere” to it. I could close my eyes and see it in some places. (It=the café and the subway). I think that in the places you go into detail on, you succeed extraordinarily. You definitely should describe things more often.
Also, this story has a lot of voice. It also has a definite moral/point to it…and it got me thinking about Internet relationships.

An Asymmetrical Conspiracy

Thu, 17 Feb 2005 18:51:36 GMT

An Asymmetrical Conspiracy
By Thomas O’Connor
Critique By Hannah Cao

Summary
This story is about a man who finds something amiss in his files. He realizes that something is wrong, and immediately starts searching for help. He finds it in the wrong person, for we realize at the end that his friend is the villain. His wife has died in a mysterious “car crash” five years ago, and his daughter is murdered. He finds himself the sole holder of some knowledge that no one can know. Something so secret that even the reader does not know (a medical testing facility? That tests on humans? A cloning lab? c

Weaknesses
The subtle hints are sometimes too subtle. Some readers may not pick up on the clues. I had to re read the last paragraph twice just to make sure my gut instinct was correct. Also, there could have been more tie-ins. There are a few abrupt sentences, and a few grammar problems. Nothing serious. Also, I sort of wanted a bit of background on Gideon. What sort of man was he? More in depth characterization. How many main characters are there? I sort of felt that there was only one, but are there more? There’s one more thing, the story reads somewhat like a prologue to a longer book. You should write it, give the whole story. It would be completely awesome!

Strengths
Lots of suspense, lots of detail. A really good read. I especially like the revelation of the two sided friend at the end, and the blind trusting of Gideon. I also liked the beginning, where we don’t realize that it’s the wife until somewhere in the middle. You had me jumping page to page, looking for clues as to who the villain was, and what the secret government project was. Good story.

Madness

Thu, 17 Feb 2005 18:51:21 GMT

Madness
By Rock Bounos
Critiqued By Hannah Cao

Summary
The story is a science fiction piece. It’s about a boy who discovers strange occurrences and tries to find out what is happening. Eventually, he realizes that he is an android, that he is merely a creation and not something of flesh. It contains bits of philosophical and metaphysical wisdom. It makes me ask questions. How do I know that I’m real? How do I know I’m not a robot? There’s not proof. I haven’t cut myself open. And even if I did, I couldn’t be entirely sure. There’s an unexpected twist to this story, and it concludes with questions on my mind.

Weaknesses
There are a few grammatical errors, the absence of which could have added to the strength of this piece. There’s also a dearth of background on characters. Or, there’s an excess of superfluous characters. Either give characters like Kendra more background, or eliminate them altogether. I suggest adding depth. They seem interesting. Also, there could have been more subtle hints throughout the narrative. I think it would’ve boosted the depth and thrill of the story. Not that it doesn’t have its thrills. I just think, that if you want to write more, add more interesting hints.

Strengths
The descriptive flow of your writing is really impressive. Everything seems incredibly real. I especially like the list of authors in the first paragraph (esp. since I love Marquez) and the very last bit. I love how you build up suspense and bring it all together in an astounding revelation, only to drop us off at the end.

Who Killed Cody Banks?

Mon, 14 Feb 2005 11:18:13 GMT

Who Killed Cody Banks?
By Brian Daly

Summary
This story is about the death of Cody Banks, the protagonist. Cody is a young Guardsman that has recently been deployed to Baghdad to serve his country. The story is told through a combination of letters and first person narratives. I believe that this story makes a strong political statement. Who really killed Cody Banks? Some unknown Middle-Eastern Civilian? A bomb? Or the government that he serves so loyally? The contrast of warmth in his letters home on the coldness of his personal narrative makes us wonder. Why would a government that claims to love it’s citizens be so bent on destroying them?

Strengths
This is an incredibly powerful story, I especially love the way you contrast the letters and the first person accounts. The letters sound bright and chirpy, while in actuality, your protagonist is incredibly scared. I love the coldness of the very last letter. The one that looks as if it was pulled out of stock letters: I like how it showed how uncaring the government is. It’s a letter informing a mother about her sons’ death, and yet it seems as if it was the same letter sent to every other mother, only with a different name tacked onto the end.

Weaknesses
There are a few grammar mistakes, but I’m not sure if they’re deliberate or accidental. If it’s the latter, just keep a heads up. I also felt that the story could be fleshed out a bit more. There are parts of it where I want way more detail. But that’s just a sign of how absorbing your story was!

Davis Puddle

Mon, 14 Feb 2005 11:17:43 GMT

Davis Puddle
By Adrienne Villafana

Summary
This story is a realistic retelling of a student’s reflection on her college life (focusing on her love life). It shows how the protagonist, Audrey, deals with an undeserving boy. Even though only three hours pass between the beginning of the story to the end, Audrey manages to break free of the gloom that has been hovering over her. She manages to keep life from breaking her down, and arises to a newer, brighter morning. This story is about change and accepting it as it comes, about learning to deal with heartbreak and roadblocks in life. It’s almost a handy manual for college first years. Don’t let life get you down, you’ll be fine, you’ll adjust, you’ll deal, and then you will move on.

Strengths
I love how you developed your characters. Especially Audrey and Cal. They seem like real students that I could run into at any moment. The fact that you could fill fourteen pages with memories astounds me. You really put me into Audrey’s head. You walked me through the past few months of her life, the ups and downs. I enjoyed this story a lot, and was extremely glad to find that it ended happily!

Weaknesses
While I really loved your characterization skills, I do feel that sometimes there were too many characters. I’m guessing this is probably to show that college life is crowded? But sometimes I got a fleeting glimpse of a character and nothing more. Also, there are a few grammar slipups (Mostly involving Cal and “her”) so watch out for those. I feel as if some bits of the story are too detailed and some are not enough detailed. But the flow of the story is still perfect. =D

Funes, the Memorious

Wed, 02 Feb 2005 07:46:48 GMT

This story almost had a sense of Magical Realism about it. It's actually a bit confusing overall, but you get the general drift of the narrative. It's an overly long dedication/eulogy of sorts. It commemorates a friend/mentor? of some sort. We don't find out until the very end of the story that this man died at the age of nineteen. Yet, throughout the story, we get the feeling that he is incredibly wise, that he's possibly a sage of sorts. How is it that he is only nineteen?

The Things They Carried

Wed, 02 Feb 2005 07:37:12 GMT

In The Things They Carried, O'Brien tells his story through the use of objects. These objects, when seen in everyday life, hold no meaning, none of the objects are particulary important or hold any intrinsic value. However, when he weaves them into his story, they tell the backgrounds, the lives, and the souls of the people who carry them.

Jimmy Cross, the main character of this story, carries photographs of his girlfriend (?) Martha. Throughout the story, which seems to revolve around the death of Ted Lavender, we continue to jump back to Cross and his memories of Martha. There also seems to be a difference in Cross' character, when compared with his companions. Kiowa, and Kiley, and most of the rest of the gang seem to see death as an everyday thing. Cross, however, seems to be extremely upset by the death of Lavender. O'Brien tells us that this is because he carries the burden of responsibility (not everything they carry are objects).

I think that Cross jsut had too much emotion left in him. They say that war hardens people. To me, Cross had not hardened at all. While his companions saw death as an everyday thing, Cross was unable to just except it. His sensitivity, coupled with his role as a leader, caused him to brood over something no one else brooded much over. When Cross burns his letters, it seems as if he is leaving his emotions behind at last. Because he had too much feeling, he let a companion die.

Character Index

Mon, 31 Jan 2005 06:29:45 GMT

Thatcher, Alexandra Lee, 12-45
-birth of, 12;
-epiphanies and,
         -Discoveries of, 39;
              -something more, 39;
              -seeing beneath the surface, 40;
              -revelations, 40-45;
         -Dancing and Frolicking in the rain, 23, 45;
              -see entry for "Mark, Cassiopiea Arwen"
         -Learning from children, 12-45;
              -see entry for "Mark, Cassiopiea Arwen"
-evolution of, 45;
-interactions with, 13, 21, 22, 23, 40, 45 ;
         -Canon in D, 21;
              -see Amano, Rim, 40;
         -Short-Haired Akitas, 22;
              -see Johnson, Caitlin Desiree, 40;
         -Dancing neighbors, 21;
              -see Mark, Cassiopiea Arwen, 23;
         -Telephone poles, 13, 45;
              -Southern Bell and Communications, 13;
              -forests, 45;
         -Sunsets, 45;
              -see epiphanies and Thatcher, Alexandra Lee
-obsessions with, 20, 21, 25, 30;
         -Bic Brand Pens, 21;
         -correct grammar, 30;
         -puncuality, 25;
         -see entry for anal rententive
-psychology of, 13, 14;
         -anal rententive, 14;
         -metaphorical blindness, 14;
         -obsessive compulsive disorder and, 13;

The Bath

Mon, 31 Jan 2005 05:44:37 GMT

This story was confusing, to say the least. Carver doesn't seem to care to add depth to his characters. They are purely one dimensional. They read as if they were Sims characters in the video game. When Scotty gets hit by a car, I find myself caring not a bit. Okay, he got hit by a car...but he's not real to me.

The characters don't even have names that stick to them. When I think of Ann Weiss, I don't see her as Ann Weiss, I see her as "the woman" or "the mother" or "the wife". Her name just slips off of her. Also, when any of the characters do anything, you don't know why they did it. Why did "the father" take a bath? Why did the baker leave such an enigmatic message? What was the point? Why did Scotty get hit by a car? Why did this incident happen?

I felt that there was no closure to this story. It read like a newspaper, some generic report that one finds in the forensics department of the police station. You don't get that nice sort of attachment that you usually get from stories. It was a fun read though, because the absence of reason and background had the reader make up their own for the characters. Which is what I did end up doing...

A Small, Good Thing

Mon, 31 Jan 2005 05:37:21 GMT

At first, I was extremely confused when reading this story. Hadn't I already read it before? Oh wait, no, I haven't...but isn't it the same story? Of course, half of it was the same story, and the other half concluded it. However, the way it was written, though still from the third perspective, gave the narrative an entirely different feel. It was more personal, it moved me more, I was interested still, but for a different reason.

While the first version of the story drew me in with the ambiguity of the narrative, the second drew me in with its relevance (I could sympathize with it, I could see myself in it). There was more of the flesh exposed, and more of the heart. We saw the baker for his character, we saw Howard and Ann and the other family waiting for their son. Instead of just the husband, just "the wife, just "the bath"...we have Ann Weiss; who is a caring, normal mother. She has been feelign a bit detached from her husband, and doesn't realize it until after her son is in teh hospital. She feels an overwhelming need to connect with someone in her time of crisis (and finds this somebody in the family waiting for their son). We see Howard, who also genuinely cares for his son, though he is finding it a hard time to cope with the incident. And the bath, I believe, is the true "a small, good thing", not the cinnamon rolls.

I actually liked this version much more than the first one. I like the way it was written, though stylistically, I believe that the first version was harder to write. I like this better because when I write, I know that I get drawn up into the lives of my characters. I guess the fact that an author can remain detached from his characters seems a bit unnatural to me...either way, I did enjoy this version much more than I enjoyed the first.

The Twenty Seventh Man

Mon, 31 Jan 2005 05:20:42 GMT

In "The Twenty Seventh Man", the characterization was a bit more...traditional than it was in the previous two stories (Secretary and Rock Springs). I felt that this could plausibly fall into the "tales around the campfire" genre, although I don't know why I got that feeling.

All four characters had a certain level of depth--but not a life long depth you get form some stories. This depth was more of a "in this moment, and this moment only" depth. What the characters are like outside of that moment, we don't know. Bretszky could very well be incredibly crude and belligerent (which, I think it was implied he was) while Korinsky could be smooth and well mannered. Either way, when they were in their cell, all the characters seemed to take on different personalities.

Also, some of the side characters had more depth than one would expect from unimportant characters. The two agents assigned to Zunser, for instance, were portrayed as respectful. I found that I really liked them, despite the fact that they were sending an old man to his doom.

The point of view also circled around from character to character, eventually landing on Pinchas...but then jumping at the very last second to Bretsky for the finishing line. Also, there was a sense of companionship that didn't include Korinsky. Where was he at the very end of the story? Pinchas, is obviously the main character, the rising star that falls just as it reaches its summit. Zunser is his mentor, Bretsky his protector. But where is Korinsky? He says one line, that he understands the meaning of the story, and is completely forgotten at the end.

Rock Springs

Wed, 26 Jan 2005 08:52:38 GMT

The characters in Rock Springs do not have the depth that Debby Roe (in Secretary) has. However, they are still well rounded characters, that seem insanely human. They feel like real people, they have faults, an overwhelming number of faults. Yet they still retain some semblance of human dignity. They still have bits of virtue; Earl's love for his daughter, his desire to start all over again, and his ambition as seen in the profession he chooses as a cover for himself. (Which can also be seen as symbolic to his character; his ability to see things that others can't, as ophthalmologist is a doctor who fixes eyes)

Edna may seem whiny and bitchy, and completely unsympathetic to Earl's plight. Yet, if I were in her shoes, if I were in her situation, I would do the exact same thing. Humans don't want to be dragged down with others. She doesn't want to be tied down to things that aren't hers. She also thinks that it's time for her to let go of her dreams and ideals. To start over, to get a steady life, not a rocky life full of possibilities.
While Edna runs for the safety and mediocrity of her hometown, Earl wants something more. Something that will give his daughter a future, something that will let him be someone else. And he will keep chasing his dreams until he is also spent out as Edna was.

Secretary

Wed, 26 Jan 2005 08:35:57 GMT

Mary Gaitskill uses a variety of ways to add depth to her character of Debby Roe. Roe seems almost childlike, from the way her family treats her to the way she treats herself. To me, Debby was a child in a sense. She has her mother assist her in finding work, while most people can seek employment on their own. When she finds work, she has her mother drive her to and from the office. Where is Debby's sense of independence? Where is her sense of self?

How old is Debby? For me, this question remains unanswered. It is implied that she is in her mid twenties (she is taking community college courses)...yet she could very well pass for a fourteen year old girl. She takes comfort in Elephant Ears and playing Parcheesi. While these activities are activities many adults partake in, it seems rather naive and youthful (in a negative way) when applied to Debby's character.

I enjoyed the characterization in "Secretary", but mostly the characterization methods used to describe Debby. I believed that her background was the one background that had the most depth. I felt as if I understood Debby's mentality-from her uncertainity of self to her confused feelings towards the lawyer. She doesn't enjoy his treatment of her, or does she? She wants out, or does she want something else? Debby is insanely confusing...but this uncertainity I have of her character convinces me of the depth of her.

After all, you can never figure out a real human completely, so why should fictional characters be any different?

Fantasy for Eleven Fingers

Mon, 24 Jan 2005 10:42:40 GMT

This piece has the air of a newspaper article. It seems detached and allof while at the same time staying entirely absorbed in the happenings of the time. It feels as if it were gossip that has travelled through many people, so that the facts may not be at all that accurate, but the basic gist is still observed. The bits and pieces that are diary entries from Anna's cousin, Hugo, show us some first person insight to this piece of time. Whereas the rest of the story is un-personal, Hugo's writings take us furthur, into the psyche of Anna.
The part of the story that strikes me the most is the aloofness of the tone. It brings in random bits and pieces, random occurences that happen, to show what was going on. The writer tells us all the details of the incident with not specific details of the incident itself, but what was happening around it. In this way, the writer builds up an atmosphere that surrounds the story.

A Stranger Comes to Town

Mon, 24 Jan 2005 09:30:48 GMT

Julia glanced out the window, distracted from her newspaper for an instant by the dull patter of rain against hardwood floor. The window sat innocently at half-mast—where Julie had placed it just that morning. Sighing in frustration, she had just found that perfect spot to curl up in on the sofa, she marched over and slammed the offending window shut. Only to be distracted yet again by a figure she didn’t know.

Julie made it her job to know every single person who happened to live in her neighborhood. She was that full of cheer and helpfulness neighbor who invaded your home the second you’ve moved in. Before your cardboard boxes were placed away, before your newly installed rug is vacuumed, before you had a chance to morph your new home into a perfectly furnished, perfectly cleaned twin of your last house. Before all that, when your dirty floor is strewn with half opened cardboard boxes with such embarrassing labels as “sex toys”, people like Julie were on your doorstep with a smile and a hello and a beautifully iced cake topped with cherries. They would march in without a word or an excuse, the cherries provided all the verbal communication they needed, plop their cake down on the table, strike up awkward conversation, and possibly play around with your strap-on’s and vibrators, leaving after an unmitigated awkward silence.

Julie always made a point of ignoring the box marked sex toys.

The figure-that-she-didn’t-know stood patiently outside her doorway, hand raised as if to knock. Seeing Julie, she lowered her hand and waved frantically at her.

“I see you I see you,” she muttered.

She opened the door and stared.

The new arrival stuck a cake at her.

A cake topped with cherries, icing smoothed to unimaginable slickness.

Describe and Evoke a Simple Action

Mon, 24 Jan 2005 09:15:35 GMT

The sheets were cold against her shins, too cold and too much like the temperature outside of them. She let her drooping eyes fall shut, and everything fell into an uncertain rhythm. Legs were brought up to meet chest in a mechanical jerk just as hands pulled the covers tighter. Her blankets nestled against her like sand did that one time she let her little cousin bury her in the beach. She recalled that feeling, the warmth of the sun seeping deep into the ground, and the sand soaking in the gold of the sun. She remembered the graininess of each particle as they pressed in with comforting roughness on her skin.
Warm, that was what she wanted to be. She frowned, eyes still closed, and she once again tightened the covers around her. Every empty space must be filled. She pressed sheets into cracks and sealed shut whatever openings she could until she was just a body encased in a cocoon of fabric.

Zilkowski’s Theorem

Mon, 24 Jan 2005 08:35:44 GMT

The ending of this story was the most important part of it, I think. It shows that, unlike fairytales, where everyone finishes happily, real life never does. There will always be someone who loses. Even though Marya and Miklos will now be happy and content, Henderson will not. Also, unlike most stories, which have concrete, definite endings, “Zilkowski’s Theorem" does not seem to have any ending at all. It is open ended. We don't know what will happen to Henderson.
I like how we understand that Henderson ended up forgiving Marya in the end, despite the fact that it was never stated outright. Even though the Red Sox lost, Henderson still did forgive her in the end. Also, Zilkowsi's theorem, what does that title imply exactly? Marya believes that everything will go right for her in the end. She tends to ignore the bits that don't fit into her equation (just as Miklos forgot about the positive semi-definite). Henderson is one of these bits, and he is left, in the end, standing alone and in the dark.
I enjoyed this short story, solely because of its unconventionality. That there is no definite end, no happy protagonist, no perfect ending.

Drowning

Mon, 24 Jan 2005 03:31:09 GMT

"Drowning" seemed to be a really weird, and slightly twisted story, where a million events happen all at once, and only one of them seems to have anything to do with the title of the story. Only, Boyle seems to be able to impress his theme "Drowning" onto a number of various events that at first glance seem to be chance happenings. The fat boy drowning in a scene of social obscurity, the nude model drowning in her own sly, mysterious facade, and the fisherman actually drowning.
His other theme, that these things occur all the time, and are just entirely random, unpredictable incidents, is also seen throughout the story.
I like the way Boyletells his story as well, giving us the background of the characters through descriptions of physical attributes; revealing personality through images and outward appearance. The girl is a stud in contrasts, is she demure, or is she a sex symbol? The fat boy seems to hide under his own bulging flesh, a veritable hermit surrounded by rolls of fat.

The Beauty Treatment

Mon, 24 Jan 2005 02:47:43 GMT

This piece's voice was a bit more modern than most of the others we have read. The writer writes from a first person perspective, which actually gives us a closer bond with her character. The narrative is filled with words that a Student of around Junior/Senior Highschool age would use. She uses SAT words mingled with casual swear words. I really felt as if I knew the girl in the story, and as she carried us through to the self actualized ending, I felt like I was with her the entire time. The writer also comments on the materialistic nature of the society the girl lives in. How, she cannot enter that proverbial spa, because then she would be without the material things she identifies herself with. When she is in that spa, she is no longer what she has built herself up to be, and her scar is no longer a beauty accesory, but just a horrible scar.
So, she realizes that, without her material possesions, she cannot live. She also cannot forgive her ex-friend because forgiving her friend would expose herself. Forgivinig her friend would make her entirely nude and vulnerable to the world.

How to Date a Browngirl, Blackgirl, Whitegirl or Halfie

Mon, 24 Jan 2005 01:51:29 GMT

The second person perspective in this piece is something that you don't see very often. I think that it is really well done, which is saying a lot, since these are hard to do (in my opinion). This story also seems like some sort of social commentary, try not to be yourself and you'll get what you want. It is more than just a step by step process--it is a description of how people act. Also, Diaz uses a lot of straight forward, abrupt sentences. It's a more casual form of writing than other stories, and it made me feel as if he was just like me, someone who doesn't use long "SAT" words, or complicated phrasing.

There's also no dialogue in this story, just comments on what people will say to each other. This sort of implies that this process is by the book. It always happens this way, and rarely will anyone ease out of this stereotype.

Good Country People

Sun, 23 Jan 2005 22:25:19 GMT

I like how O'Conner draws parallels between her characters and other, inanimate objects. Especially the bit about the grain sacks on page 526. It shows characterization through the use of metaphor. It also gives me the distinct feeling of knowing exactly how Mrs. Freeman is. I also like the humourous, almost mocing style that O'Conner writes in. She doesn't come outright with her charecters, but eventually, you begin to see that Freeman and Hopewell are complete opposites, except for one thing. Mrs. Freeman says everything as she sees fit to say, which is basically, everything. Mrs. Hopewell keeps everything to herself, and gives excuses to everything that bothers her. She's too relenting, while Freeman is too pushy. Also, O'Conner subtley introduces the personalities of her characters through their names (Hope is an eternal optimist). Although this story is told in the third person, you get the feeling that all the opinions are Mrs. Hopewells, and that the story is actually told through her eyes only. You also get the impression that Mrs. Hopewell feels as if she is on a different level from the "Good Country People", when in fact, she really isn't. She's just as closed off as Mrs. Freeman is, and she is just as unwilling to accept new things (as shown when she says she despises her daughter's new name, or her daughter's philosophy books).