1. Select a segment of your writing that you feel didn’t have enough emotional impact, suspense, or realism.
2. Either mentally or physically list the sensory details (various sights, smells, tastes, feelings, and sounds) of this segment. Zoom your camera in to see the close details, or zoom it out to see the big picture.
3. Use your list to determine the feeling you’re attempting to convey. For example, if you are looking to discuss regret—circle or not the sensory images that are connected to sadness. Likewise, do the same for any other emotion—joy, peace, serenity, etc.
4. Write and trust the process. Again, don’t be surprised or upset if you veer off the course. The act of brainstorming was still time well spent.
5. When you’re ready, copy and paste it to the blog. We all can learn from your wisdom!
friday nights nothing can replace the feel of running on the field it seems like everything goes quit and all you hear is you breathing really slow and the sound of all the cleats thudding on the field. And when you go out and the crowd screams it makes the feeling better it makes you feel like all those people are there just to watch you and cheer you on. Then this type of feeling like butterflys comes into your stomach but it feels like a good kinda of fuzzy feeling. Even before the game the feeling is amazing just putting all the pads on when get the shoulder pads on and you strap them on it gives you a hyped up feeling and having the football pants on makes you feel special. And when you are ready to go on to the field and u strap your helmet on it tops it all it is like the icing on the cake it is what completes the feeling like icing completes the cake.
ReplyDeleterodeo I think is the best sport in the whole world. When I started doin it I loved it right away. Cause u dont have to worry bout nothin just havin a good time n bein with your friends n just havin the best time of your life ridin bulls. Funnest rodeos are ones that r in like Minnesota or somewere way far away cause u meet new girls hot ones and hang out with them n stuff n then everythin goes downhill from there.
ReplyDeleteWe went into the big red barn. When we opened the heavy, wooden, sliding doors and we automatically felt the stuffiness and dust go into our noses. The smell of rotten wood that was stored in here years ago filled the air with a strong sent. Most of it was taken out to either sell or to burn but some of it was still there. As we step inside the musty, hot barn you can see the hay scattered all over the cement from cats and mice gathering for cold winters. Left over wire and nails lay around as we tip toe to our them. We go farther into the barn and take a step down to the lower part of it. It was so dirty we weren't sure if it really was dirt or cement buried underneath it. We were surrounded by old wood. The whole barn was made up of it and ready to break. We see the old rope from which we use to swing on when were really little. Of course if we sat on it now it would break. Even though we both only weigh about 110lbs the old wood would snap. I remember when I was little and my dad and brother would take me here in the winter and swing me on the rope. It was a very open space so I couldn't hit anything and the ground was covered with dirt so if I fell the landing was soft.
ReplyDeleteWhen we got to the hospital they took me back right away to the emergency room. They informed my parents that since I was bit on my lip they were going to have to put stitches in without giving me Novocaine. My parents then had to both hold me down so that I couldn't move. I was still screaming at this time. The doctors then started covering my face with this thing they call the “mummy wrap” so that I couldn't see the needles going into my lip.
ReplyDeleteNo likes me. I hate it here. I'm worthless. Those thoughts often racing through my head my first 3 years in Grundy Center. Not knowing which way is up; not sure if anyone will even help me. Feeling lost with no way out; someone reached out to me. Comforted me. They were far from saints in others eyes, but they were my angels. They surely had no wings. Their house not made of gold, or filled with luxurious things. That was my heaven, a place where I was free. Expression, if that's what you wanna call it, was apparent in the house. I was myself. Not hiding away like a thief in the night, the way I was at home, confined to my room, where I was truly alone. The food was always good and real, Mom's own cooking, I don't think I can take another frozen pizza. The feeling of emptiness has escaped me. My “brothers” and “sisters” always close by, though I never could quite figure out why they suck around. I love all of them dearly and that will never change. No matter where live takes me I'll always know I had a different kind of “family”.
ReplyDeleteMy dad came once to ask us why we couldn't be a family again, but when he got to the house I could hear him beating on our screen door. My mom eventually opened it for him, but when he got in he started yelling at my mom and I. I saw him punch a hole in the wall across from my bedroom. My brothers came and I could hear them trying to calm him down. They got into a fight, and I could hear my dad hit the ground. My mom apparently called the cops while all of this was going on. I don't remember hearing her talking to anyone though.
ReplyDeleteNow when i'm around my stepmom the relationship varies depending on whether or not she has taken her medication that day and if the medication has taken affect already because if it has then we usually get along better than if she hasn't because she is Bi Polar and that makes her moods swing and how well we get along hard to judge most of the time. At least that's the excuse she uses, but when she's around my dad she never seems to have a problem with me or anything I do and that's only as long as my dad is around. The second he leaves she finds a reason to complain about something I do, but when he gets back its like nothing ever happened. If you were to be around my house at the time when its just me and her you would probably hear us arguing with each other. Should you look inside you would see that nothing is out of place or wrong and that would make you wonder why we were arguing and nothing would smell weird either. You would find that everything you touch is dusted and clean. It's probably going to be weird to think about having to listen to two people argue but it's a normal thing to happen around my house and if you spend any time around my house it would be normal to hear her yelling at someone whether its me or its my dad. She always has something to complain about.
ReplyDeletemy grandpa and I were driving a four wheeler around his farm around spring. My grandpa was feeding the cattle from the bucket then outta no where a cow comes charging at him. So he got on the four wheeler and took off with me on the back. I could see the cow right behind us. Grandpa handed me the bull whip and I hit the cow. The cow stopped and we lost the cow over the hill. later in the after noon we went to check on it. There was a fence down with the cow layin dead next to it. Then we took off to get the tractor. We put the cow in the bucket and hauled it over to where we put the other dead cows.
ReplyDeleteWe set it down left to tell grandma.
The day I enjoyed the most when we were in Florida was when we went to Disney World in Orlando. We did a lot of fun things while we were there. I never really knew how big it was until we got there. I was amazed! I wonder how long it took them to build it. At Disney World we went on a lot of rides and saw some shows. We had our picture taken with some of the characters such as Mickey Mouse, Cinderella, and other disney characters. Before leaving Disney World we saw a parade with all of the Disney characters, and fireworks it was really neat seeing all the shops lit up. It was a day to remember. I was way exhausted at the end of the day from all the walking we did around the park I felt like I could drink a gallon of water.
ReplyDeleteI was very serious when I “farmed.” When I was really young maybe 3-5, I pushed my John Deere replicas back and forth across the floor and made sounds like how my dad's tractors sounded. I would get louder or softer when the truck or tractor switched gears, when it was starting or stopping, and when the tractor hit a rough spot in the “field.” I always had a serious look on my face and I didn't want people watching me. I was just in my own world with my tractors getting some “farming” done. I knew it wasn't real but I sure wanted it to be as real as possible.
ReplyDelete