Final

List/discuss several of the different pieces of writing you’ve done this quarter, including posts, comments, creative pieces, journals, in-class writings, and things you’ve written on your own. I can say that i'm a pretty good writer when it comes to my creations. Like when I write about scary things I go into detail and account for all the points in my writing and I can say that i'm proud of my writing.

Name/discuss a couple of pieces you’ve read this quarter, including other classmates’ work and/or reading you’ve done in or out of class. I don't remember but I really liked one of Jacob's stories about the halloween topic. I thought it was funny and really cool to read.

Write about setting up your blog and what you have gotten from that experience.  How did you come up with the name for your blog?  Who do you think read it or who would you want to read it?  Will you continue to use it on your own in the future?  What kinds of things will you post? I got a pretty intresting experience because it simply taught me how to set up a blog. I thought of the name for my blog from the top of my head basically, it was just something that entered my brain at the last second which caused me to use it. Honestly I think everybody in this class read the title and i'm hoping that it's not childish. I don't think I will use it in the future to be honest because I don't think it's necessary. I probably would continue posting scary stuff that's what I really like writitng about.

Write about journaling.  What kinds of things are in your journal?  Who would you want to read it?  Will you continue to journal?  What will you write about? Honestly the things that are in my journal are stuff we did in class and I don't think I will continue to journal because it's not something I tend to like very much. I probably write about my feelings or my past experiences.

Type an entry directly from your journal that you consider notable.  It could be a paragraph or a page or so.  You don’t have to explain it, but you could.

Type or copy/paste a passage or section directly from one of your pieces of writing that you consider notable or your favorite that you’ve written.  It could be a section or a page or so.Two weeks passed and it happened again….it just happened again and I knew this was going to happen again, I just knew. It was a cold October evening when I see it, it’s kind of like a gremlin and it likes to feed on your dead skin and it leaves marks on your feet and its here. I’m so scared I pick up a chair and through it at the little gremlin and the little gremlin runs under the huge rug and slides over everywhere and my wife is freaking out as she screams I lose my balance and fall on the ground. As I do this the creature comes running towards my face to finish the deed and lunges and at the same time I reach up and grab it, by doing so it bites my hand and I start to bleed I mean really bleed as the blood drips everywhere my wife faints and I slam the little gremlin on the ground repeatedly until its fluorescent green blood leaks everywhere like a broken pipe. And as I pull myself up onto the chair I relax for a second and as I do the little creature jumps up and lunges towards my neck and successfully cuts my carotid artery and this the end I think to myself. As I lay motionless on the floor the creature starts feeding on my wife’s face and In horror I try and say something but as I do the creature turns toward me and glides across the carpet to meet my face and as it does this I black out and wake up in a bright place were I’m greeted by an angel and the angel tells me that I’m dead. I can’t believe this I just can’t and I’m met by my wife at the same time and we hug and she whispers……”it’s ok now”

What creative writing do you plan to do in the future, if any?  What do you get out of writing creatively?  How does this differ from the other writing you do, in school and in life? I think if any creative writing I do from now on its probably going to be lowkey journaling about how I feel because that's what my therapist said. It helps me express my self and feelings in a way that is only unique to me. It's different because at school it doesn't really about my feelings as much as it's about other things.

Some final words of encouragement, appreciation, inspiration, etc. for your fellow writers you’ve worked with this quarter... Honestly whoever reads this good luck on future writing and I hope that you continue to write. And you guys are amazing in all sorts of ways and hope you guys do good in the future.

Writing for gift

Dear Dad,

I can even begin to tell you how excited I am that you are in my life again after what seemed like 2 years of not seeing each other. Although we both have been through some crap im just super duper glad we can hangout and see each other. Ive been longing for this type of relationship with my real father and for once I actually get to express my feelings to you in away that you can see how I feel. You may not know this but I made a gift for you for christmas and I don't expect you to fulfill the favor, it's something I want to do from father to son. Since im going on break maybe we can have a some type of christmas get together and I can't wait. The time that we didn't talk people kept telling me "Tanner you need to just forget about him, he won't ever care about you" and the fact that came back is a blessing to say the least because even though my stepdad is there for me it's honestly you I was trying to bond with this whole time. I know your sorry about the things you did to me but even though I forgive you and try to move on they're still there and my emotions have been jacked up since and I just want you to know it killed me when I found out you were seeing your other kids and I felt so alone knowing I wasn't good enough. Now I can feel some closure knowing that I'm actually important and I thank you for giving me another chance.

Art walk

My life has been a rollercoaster ride to say the least and this painting reminds me of the happy times that me and my mom have shared over the years and honestly my mom has been through everything with me and I owe her everything and there have been times were she has saved me from absolute trouble and other times she was one call away that I needed because of a situation I was in with my dad. She and my grandma came to the rescue from 100 miles away to pack up my items and move me in with them. Honestly if they werent there for me I would be living poorly with my dad (who has changed for the better) and dropping out of school thats the person I would have been and the fact that one event conspired a chain of happy for the best events blows me away in the fact that I could have been different and that I would be doing drugs and living a life without the presence of good. Anyway I would be stuck in a bad situation if it wasnt for my mother I can never repay her for sticking with me in the most down, dark moments i've experienced in my life. And I tell her I love her everyday and thank her for being there when I needed someone so bad. Sorry for the depressing story but thats what this painting reminds me of, the nostalgia from the scary moments in my life.

Revision 3

The death of Rick Payne at the age of 59 was pre-meditated, and there was thought and action into the death of this man and I have proof. I starts at 3 a.m. and rick Payne is in bed comfortably asleep underneath his blankets of silk when he was awaken by a specific noise that the door in the back made, the noise was a tuned screech that is so unique you quickly come accustomed to the noise. So he opened his eyes to a child with black eyes and gray skin and black fingers

. The older man awoke up in a flash, dumbfounded with the thought of who this child is and how he got here. So in his raspy voice he mutters what are you doing he buddy, the kid just keeps staring into the dark soul of the old man and not moving at the sight of the old man. So the old man flicks the small table side lamp on with a click and as the old man reaches his glasses the kid lunges like a creeping jaguar in the brush of the jungle towards its prey. Grabs the old man by the neck and bites as the long intentioned teeth quickly turned into needle like devices the old man spasms in way to try and get the boy off of him, he thrashes and whips his arms back and forth not budging the boy. Until the man falls to the floor white like a ghost with no sense of life left in him, the kid stands up wiping the blood from his mouth he vanished instantly without a trace. It took 16 hours until the neighbor stumbled upon Rick Payne’s body and called local authorities to try and figure out what happened. Sheriff Johnson was the man trying to figure out what happened he searched of possible intrusion but no signs then he tried looking for a weapon but no luck. So he awaits the arrival of the coroner to diagnose the cause of death and maybe seek validation for the loved ones. Coroner Anderson arrived at 6 p.m. that day and as usual he analyzes the dead man and comes to the utterly terrifying conclusion that this man in fact died of natural causes, because he had a heart attack and there were no bite marks or lacerations no bruises, not even scratches. I was there that night and I have proof, my proof is my own sight but as the complications of today’s governmental systems I can’t tell them that it was….it was a freaking vampire and ive been researching and im scared on what i found and it says that to kill or track a vampire than i might as well contact a hunter and find myself someone who knows what they are doing. So i did and he said to kill it you have to cut its head off and burn its corpse or it will return mainly for you and that scared me so i told him to do it and he did. The way we tracked the vampire was following the victims around town and thats how we ended that bloodsucker.

Revision 2

A screaming comes across the sky as the burning jet slowly lowers lower and lower heading towards the buildings. The right engine was tampered with or badly damaged from the incoming missile strike coming from the west at 14 km. The pilot’s name is Alfred Waterson and his co-pilot was shot so he’s dead and Alfred is on his own trying to slowly lower this giant Boeing C-17 Globe master cargo plane down but the collateral below was large and he had only one choice and that choice was to crash it in one of the buildings, clicks away a Russian AA gun was reloading and Alfred could see the men below zeroing in on his farthest left engine. This was a problem because this was going to seal his internal fate and he was persistent on the fact that he would be returning home to his daughter. So he remembered what colonel Ralph S. Hutchinson said “if your ever in trouble push the red button” clique enough he had no other solution that didn’t result in his total annihilation and he had to think fast because he could hear the flak cannon missing him, so desperately he reached over and slam the red button as the sweat rolls down is bloody, bruised face. There was a silence for a moment until all of a sudden the cockpit bursts open and Alfred is sent flying and the pressure of the departure popped his eardrums and the started to bleed. As Alfred was sent flying at 80 miles an hour he could see the face of the late 40’s man who was bald and had a long scar ripping down his face. The Alfred blacked out and awaken in a bunker with colonel Ralph Hutchinson glaring at him and as he tried to say something colonel said “Son why didn’t you listen to me when I said no fly zone” but Alfred just stared at the ground with anger and kept remembering that man’s face and plotting to get him back for what he did. As the colonel snaps his fingers Alfred regains reality and said “Sir there was no other way I could travel to meet the dead line” the colonel clears his throat then says “Your right, but next time take the long way around no matter what we don’t need heat from the Russians over this.” Alfred mumbles to himself“Tomorrow, I’ll think of some way to get time back. After all, tomorrow is another day.” Sixteen years later and Alfred found his way back and he's retired and living with his wife Joann and they have sent there children to medical school and are comfortabely living in a cabin three hundred miles from montana and occasionally alfred goes hunting and bags some meat that joann uses for her wonderful meals. Alfred and Joann are both in there 60's and they are happy together and even though alfred hates what he had to do he still remembers what he did to people and he has PTSD about it and is scared awake some nights but other than that he lives and happy life.

Revision 1

The hopper gas station

It a quarter until 5 and business is slow as usual and there hasn’t been a customer in about an hour. My name is Richard Carr and I work here. By myself. Alone. Anyway it’s a breezy day in October and like I said business is slow and I have been fighting myself on whether I should sleep for a while or watch some television. I think I will rest my eyes because Irene was up late last night sick with the yella fever. And I’m quite tired and based on the pace of today I think resting my eyes won’t hurt anything. As I’m drifting off…..slowly……..un..t….il……the slam of a pickup truck, I jump up and go outside because part of my job is to help pump the gas and as I ran out there, there was a man with overalls and a clean cut haircut with old boots that have walked a thousand miles. I shout “Hello Sir may I help you?” he swung around and looked me dead in the eyes and said “I think I’ve got it!” with a grizzly, scratchy voice. So I head back in behind the register and start bringing the charge up which rang up to 55 cents and as usual he headed inside with a beer in hand and so I rang him up saying “Do you live around here?” he explained how he owned some land 30 miles away and has had that land from generation to generation. So after a few minutes of steady small talk I discover his name. His name was Herbert herbertson and then he left on his way. I yet again does off with the background hum of the small desk fan I have located to my right. After about an hour another customer comes in and this person is a female and she was kind of softly crying and I asked her what was wrong and she said and I quote “ today the bank is taking my families land and keeping it on the anniversary of my father’s death!” “How could they?” I answered well I’m so sorry to hear that and I really sorry about your father he’s probably a good man. She looked at me and said “He was, his name was Herbert Herbertson and he died almost 14 years ago today” my faced turned white as I remembered his face, his touch, his voice and I said “By any chance did he where old worn out overalls and old boots?” she looked up with her beautiful, soft face “yes, yes he did how do you know?” I just guessed, scared out of my mind I just realized that I saw a ghost the hour prior. I could never forget that day for the 65 more years I lived. Although I told everyone, no one believed me and to the grave I took that story hoping that I would see that man again. It haunts me everyday and I've been puzzled by this everyday of my life because of one reason....i continue to see this man all of the time and he doesn't try and hurt me he just stands there and just stares into me like i wasn't even there and i think he needs help passing over and I've contacted a psychic and she said to help I need to try and talk to him so I did and he told me he doesnt want to go back and it scares me and i try and run away but he follows me and im tired so i've learned to accept it.

Writing about Food

These are my absolute favorite cookies ever, my mom used to make this when I was little and unfortunately I used to eat like 4-5 of these cookies and they were just so amazing and addicting. I remember napping and being waken up by the overwhelming smell of these cookies and they truly were my absolute kryptonite and my mom would have to limit me on them because if not I would literally eat them all and don't even get me started on dipping them in milk...mmmm...they were so very good and now I guess she doesn't really make them like she used to, I don't know why but I only have them when I beg her and that's usually all of the time and only once in awhile does she actually make them for me. I also get loads of nostalgia because when she made those cookies it was because I was at her house and that's where I felt the safest and the feeling I got I can't even describe in words because I cant describe it. But anyway these are really amazing cookies and I highly recommend these with out a doubt.
1 pouch (1 lb 1.5 oz) Betty Crocker™ pumpkin spice cookie mix
1/2 cup butter, softened
1 egg
30 Rolo™ caramels in milk chocolate, unwrapped
1/2 cup Betty Crocker™ Rich & Creamy cream cheese frosting
1/4 cup finely chopped pecans

Directions
1 Heat oven to 350°F. In medium bowl, stir cookie mix, butter and egg until soft dough forms.
2 Shape dough into 30 (1 1/4-inch) balls. For each cookie, wrap 1 dough ball around each caramel. Place 2 inches apart on cooking parchment paper-lined cookie sheet.
3 Bake 8 to 10 minutes or until edges are set. Cool 5 minutes. Remove from cookie sheet to cooling rack. Cool completely, about 30 minutes.
4 Place frosting in small microwavable bowl. Microwave uncovered on High 10 to 15 seconds just to soften frosting; stir to blend. Drizzle frosting over cookies; sprinkle with pecans. Store cookies tightly covered.