Short Story Assignment

We've spent a good amount of time reading and analyzing short stories.  Now is your chance to be creative and write your own. 

Above is Vonnegut on writing a short story.

Short Story Writing Assignment: Due Monday, Oct. 6th

 It's time for you to write your own original modern short story.

The subject can be of your choosing.  But your story should have:

1. a protagonist
2. an antagonist
3. at least 2 incidents in the rising action
4. a climax
5. falling action and a resolution
6. an epiphany (Links to an external site.) (the epiphany can appear either in the climax or in the resolution)

Here are a few things you should not/cannot do:

 --no supernatural activity

--no profanity

--no graphic sex or violence

 AVOID CLICHES - fresh language

SHOW/ don't tell.

Stories should be typed, double-spaced with 1-inch margins, Times New Roman font size 12.

Length should be 2-3 pages (3 pages max.—you’ll be penalized if your story is any longer).

Submit your paper as a new Juno Doc through your "File Locker"

I will grade you on how well you adhere to the guidelines, and on the vividness and originality of your story.

Stories are due on MONDAY, October 6^th.

In addition to the work you do at home, you will have some class time (likely two class periods) to work on your stories.

 This assignment is worth 50 points.

Kurt Vonnegut- "Harrison Bergeron"

Freedom vs Equality

We had a great discussion about the ideas of freedom and equality prior to reading "Harrison Bergeron".  I know that you guys will continue to bring your thoughtful insight to the discussion below.  Put some time and thought into your answers; these are questions well worth exploring.  It not only makes us better readers and students, but thinkers!

Many of the question below are taken or adapted from  http://www.whatsoproudlywehail.org/.  This website claims to make American citizens through literature.  They have some intriguing questions to which I think you will have some equally intriguing answers. As always, post your responses to the questions in the comment section below.  Please relate each answer to the short story.  Quote where possible.

We will look at different aspects of he story. 

The Society- answer each question

1. Why do you think 2081 America adopted its practices of making everyone equal in brains, beauty, and brawn?
2. Is it a good thing for people to believe that no one is better than anyone else? Would it be a good thing if, in fact, no person were better than any other person? Why or why not?
3. Are there positive aspects of this society? What is it lacking?
4. Why exactly do you like or dislike it?

Harrison Bergeron, the character- answer each question

1. Do you cheer for Harrison's success, and if so, why? What do you admire about Harrison? Are there aspects of his behavior that concern you?
2. Do we have any idea of what sort of ruler he might have been? What kind of government, pursuing what goals, might he have established? (See, in particular, his instructions to the musicians and his selection of his empress.) Would he (and his goals) be better or worse than (those of) the Handicapper General and her agents?
3. Harrison Bergeron declares himself emperor. Is his desire—and his capacity—to rule an example of the problem that made the push for total equality necessary?

 “Harrison Bergeron,” the Story- answer each question

1. 1. With whom do you think Vonnegut sympathizes in the story? Does he present Harrison as a hero, or is the story heroless? Why?
   2. What is being satirized in this story? Why do you think Vonnegut wrote it?
   3. Is Vonnegut’s story finally a cautionary tale about the importance of freedom? Of individuality? Of excellence? Or is he aiming at something else?

 Overall- answer at minimum 3 questions. Must answer #5

1.  Is the society described in Vonnegut’s story a fulfillment of the American principle or ideal of equality or a perversion of that principle or ideal?

2. What, if anything, do we owe those of our fellow citizens who are worse off through no fault of their own? What, if anything, do we owe those of our fellow citizens who were dealt a poor hand of natural talents?

3. Hazel says about the stammering broadcaster "That's all right- he tried.  That's the big thing. He tried to do the best he could with what God gave him. He should get a nice raise for trying so hard." Which should society reward and respect most: personal effort or actual accomplishment? What is Vonnegut saying about this through this story?

4. Most would not want to live in Vonnegut's 2081 America; however, would you object if society sought equality not by handicapping the gifted but by lifting up the not-gifted, say through genetic engineering or biotechnological enhancement?

5. In May 1961, about five months prior to the appearance of Vonnegut’s “Harrison Bergeron,” Newton Minow, then Chairman of the Federal Communications Commission, gave a memorable speech, entitled “Television and the Public Interest,” which challenged his audience as follows: 

I invite each of you to sit down in front of your television set when your station goes on the air and stay there, for a day, without a book, without a magazine, without a newspaper, without a profit and loss sheet or rating book to distract you. Keep your eyes glued to that set until the station signs off. I can assure you that what you will observe is a vast wasteland. You will see a procession of game shows, formula comedies about totally unbelievable families, blood and thunder, mayhem, violence, sadism, murder . . . and cartoons. And endlessly commercials—many screaming, cajoling, and offending. And most of all boredom. True, you’ll see a few things you will enjoy. But they will be very, very, very few. And if you think I exaggerate, I only ask you to try it.

Since 1961, TV has grown in leaps and bounds, making Americans even more addicted to it than George and Hazel and their society were. But has it remained the “vast wasteland” that Vonnegut parodied and of which Minow spoke?

Joyce Carol Oates- "Where are you Going? Where have you Been?"

Here is a haunting version of Bob Dylan's "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue". Joyce has said she was inspired to write "Where are you Going? Where have you Been?" after listening to this song.


Here is the Life magazine article on the murders that inspired Arnold Friend and "Where are you Going? Where have you Been?" :https://docs.google.com/a/episcopalacademy.org/document/d/1kVtIuZWfsUa9xBH5s7l_YcW8L2dr1M6TdVM1HghGxg0/edit?pli=1

Comment Assignment:

1. I would like you to pick one quote that you feel is significant from the story and post it the comments section.  Quotes cannot be used more than once, so check out your classmates' comments before posting.

2. In the same comment: ask 2 questions you have about any aspect of the story.

3. Again, in the same comment, answer the question: Why does Connie open the door and go with Arnold Friend?

Sherman Alexie- "This is What it Means to Say Phoenix, Arizona"

Here is Sherman Alexie's website: http://fallsapart.com/

An inspiring look at Alexie's motivation to write poetry: http://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2013/10/the-poem-that-made-sherman-alexie-want-to-drop-everything-and-be-a-poet/280586/?single_page=true

Some poems:http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poet/sherman-alexie

The best kid books are written in  blood. Yes, blood: http://blogs.wsj.com/speakeasy/2011/06/09/why-the-best-kids-books-are-written-in-blood/

In honor of National Banned Book Week:

Answering 10 Questions: 


Answer this question in the comment section below:
What does it mean to say Phoenix, Arizona?

James Joyce- "Araby"

 Explore these links related to Joyce and discover some new knowledge:

A brief biography as well as a video on his life: http://www.biography.com/people/james-joyce-9358676#synopsis

Another brief bio:http://www.egs.edu/library/james-joyce/biography/

The James Joyce Centre Dublin: http://jamesjoyce.ie/

100th Anniversary of Dubliners: http://www.slate.com/articles/arts/books/2014/05/james_joyce_s_dubliners_100th_anniversary_dublin_a_century_later.html

Analyzing a Short Story

 Part of reading short stories is analyzing them in order to better understand the meaning within them.  What does it mean to analyze a short story?  Great question, Bagnell; thanks for asking!  Below you will find some links that can help you in your analysis of short stories.

http://ndla.no/en/node/9075

http://classroom.synonym.com/write-critical-analysis-short-story-4546.html

http://www.mun.ca/writingcentre/resources/modelessay/index.php

Happy analyzing!

Zora Neale Hurston- "Sweat"

An American author who became an important member of the Harlem Renaissance.  Despite her great literary prowess, she died in virtual poverty and was nearly forgotten.  Explore some of her life and history through the following links and videos.  Enjoy the discovery!

A link to her official site: http://zoranealehurston.com/

 A brief video biography of Hurston:

 Another link to a biography of Hurston: http://www.biography.com/people/zora-neale-hurston-9347659#synopsis

Do you speak American? - http://www.pbs.org/speak/seatosea/powerprose/hurston/

Zora Neale Hurston's "Sweat" is written in the dialect particular to her Florida.  Here is a link to an in-depth article of Hurston's Florida.  This may help you get a better idea of the setting of the story:
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/04/04/travel/04culture.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0

Another portrait of Hurston's Eatonville, FL- http://www.neh.gov/humanities/2011/novemberdecember/feature/zoras-place


Below is footage that was shot by Hurston; she also sings throughout the video:

Inspiration

Elias Lindgren

 F block

Mr. Dilworth

9/10/2014

Inspiration

Dr. Berube was a broken man. He had toiled for a lifetime, he had given his work everything he had, devoted his entire existence to his studies. And now he had been proven wrong. An arrogant, 20-something upstart by the name of Perez had thrown away his entire life’s work with a single paper. The mathematics were perfect, the logic was sound, the whole thing was brilliant, and no one, not even Berube, could deny it. And it made him mad. The mathematician had always been a quiet, docile person, but now he hated this Perez with everything that he was. The man had ruined his life, stomped on his dreams, thrown away every accomplishment of Berube’s life without a second thought. And now, Berube was meeting his nemesis in person.

            The older man refused to meet his rival’s gaze, instead focusing intently on the dark, pudgy hand he shook. “It’s a great pleasure to finally meet you, Dr. Berube,” Perez said. “You’ve always been a great inspiration to me in my work.

            Berube saw red. An inspiration? I inspired you to destroy everything I ever worked for? He realized that while his right hand was shaking Perez’s, his left was tightly clenched around the small Swiss Army knife he kept in his pocket.

            A middle-aged mathematics professor strolled around the convention hall, looking around for anyone he might recognize. Suddenly, he recognized his good friend James Berube and the Arturo Perez, the budding genius, introducing themselves to each other. He turned and began to approach them.

            Suddenly, he saw a blur of motion between the two men. A loud exclamation of surprise, cut brutally short, and then Perez lay on the ground in a pool of blood, still wide-eyed with shock, as Berube gaped in horror at what he had done.

True Fear

Joshua Wang
Intro to Lit F
Mr. Dilworth
September 9, 2014


Jack had never known true fear before this. Like every child, Jack had always been afraid of the boogieman under his bed when he was younger, and he had always been reluctant to walk into dark unknown places. The one time he had given away a friend’s secret told in confidence, he had been afraid to lose that friendship. When Jack forgot to finish his homework one night, he was scared of his teacher’s admonishment. But today, Jack had done something he would regret for a long time to come. He knew not if this would be his end, or if it would just become a new beginning. He sat at home in cold sweat, anticipating the wrath of those who could so easily give, and just as easily take. The ones Jack was dreading the arrival of were his parents. He now knew true fear, for Jack had just spilled cranberry juice on their new snow white carpets.

Footsteps

Hannah Moriarty
Short story
Mr. Dilworth
9/7/14

I was alone. Tired, dirty and lost in the woods. I had no clue of the time. One or two in the afternoon maybe but I could be way off. I had no idea where i was or what time i was going to get home or if i was even going to get home. I had this feeling in my stomach that I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and something was watching me. I felt as if there was somebody or something following me, watching every little thing I do. Every minute or two I would turn around cautiously to check my surroundings. Nothing. I heard the crackles of leaves and the snaps of branches like something was walking right behind me. I began to walk faster as the noises became louder and closer. They soon began to go faster and much louder, so I started to run not knowing what was going on. I ran as fast as I could and the noises just kept on going. As I looked behind me and ran I suddenly felt a large amount of weight on my back and as I fell everything turned black.

Chang'e Flies to the Moon

Chang’e Flies to the Moon

A Chinese Legend

Chang’e was very much alone. She herself had witnessed the unfortunate effects of magnificent deeds through her husband, who now roamed the palace with his head held high as he became increasingly demeaning towards his servants and subjects. He had even grown above his association with her, and she sensed an imminent danger that would soon strike if he continued to behave this way. But since his allegiance changed from her to himself, the koi pond was less enthralling, the sun was less comforting, and the palace seemed cramped and enclosed.

Her husband was praised by the gods for his brave contribution to the mere mortals by shooting down nine of the ten sun gods, leaving one to warm the earth as the other nine had boiled the oceans and scorched even the most fertile of forests. His ego bloated into that of a pompous, conceited king, and he proceeded to put all beneath him. As a gift, he was presented with an elixir of immortality. Chang’e trembled at the effect of immortality would have on her husband- divine praise had already proved to be dangerous.

That evening, the night of the full moon, Chang’e bid goodbye to the koi ponds and stole the elixir from its ivory box at the dead of night. She knew of her husband’s anger, and floated towards the moon where she would seek refuge from the Celestial Hare. As her dress billowed through the sky, she heard a mighty roar from earth as her husband attempted to pursue her. The Celestial Hare, looking fondly upon Chang’e, protected her on her journey to the moon, and welcomed her to his palace on the moon. Chang’e had saved the people of earth from a raving, conceited deity.     

John Updike- "A&P"

John Updike was a celebrated American author. Below you will find links and videos that help tell the story of Updike, his work and its lasting influence.

This from the New York Times upon his death in 2009: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/01/28/books/28updike.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0

An article that describes a man who rooted through Updike's trash and what he found: Updike's trash is everyone's treasure.
This is a link to the website of what was uncovered: http://johnupdikearchive.com/

Below are videos and questions related to "A&P"; answer each question in the comment section below in well written and thought out sentences.  Then, reply to at least one of your classmates answers with your thoughts on their responses to the questions.

Studies have linked reading fiction to greater levels of empathy.  Here is a video of Updike discussing his writing style as well as empathy.
1. How does this relate to "A&P" With whom is he empathizing in the story?





Here is an interview about "A&P" and a reading of the story:

Listen to this interview (you may skip the reading of the story if you wish), and then answer the following:
2. It is said that "A&P" is very American," How is this story a story of American life? 
3. How are women viewed in this story? Are there any stereotypes present? What does Updike reveal about Sammy through his view of the girls?
4. What is Sammy's view of society? Provide examples to support your opinion.
5. Is Sammy a hero? Why or why not?
6. Lengel says, "You're going to feel this for the rest of your life." What is it that Sammy going to feel for the rest of his life according to Lengel? Do you think he feels what Lengel is talking about?
7. Why is Sammy's life going to be so hard?
8. What has Sammy learned by the end of the story?

David Huang

Mr. Dilworth

F block English

The Man in the Forest

A man is walking out of a forest. In the beginning, he had no idea where to go. Other people guided him through the first parts of the forest. The first parts were confusing to him, but was where he learned the most and was the happiest. In the thickest part of the forest was where he tripped and fell the most. He would always get back up, though, and he guided other people through the places he failed. Walking out was the easiest, but he was tired. He knew he was lucky to have gone through the forest, and as he walked out, he thought about all the things he did in the forest. He died smiling, happy with his journey through life.

Grace Kaufhold

F block Intro to Lit.

Mr. Dilworth

9/8/14 

Yard Sale

It was 99 degrees in the middle of June with the smell of fresh cut grass to start my day. I get a text from my friend John asking "Do you wanna hang out?" I didn't really have anything to do, except to go to the grocery store. So, I replied back saying "Sure, you can come over at 2:45." He finally pulls up to my house in his mid-night black jeep Cherokee at 3:00. John really never gets anywhere on time, he always likes to be "fashionably late." He saunters in without even ringing the doorbell or even knocking on the front door. I’m sitting on the couch watchingModern Family and John hops onto the cushion right next to me. I ask him if he wants to go to the grocery store with me and he says "sure." John is also the kind of person who is up for anything. We get into his car and turn on the radio to Kanye West's “Can't Tell Me Nothing." Both of us start belching the lyrics off pitch and dancing to the catchy tune. As carefree as we are, John turns onto the wrong street. The street consists of old, farmhouses with beautiful tall trees and big, bright green yards. One of the houses has a yard sale; John says, "Let’s see what there is, just for fun." We pull up and there are old antiques, books, and more interesting things lay across the whole front yard. An old man comes out and asks us if we need any help but I reply "thanks, just looking". The man was kind of creepy looking, like he was hiding something. I kept turning my head and glancing at him, we made really quick awkward eye contact a couple of times. I told myself to stop looking at him because it looked really suspicious. I was now looking at this old book that looked like an intriguing mystery. It was only 5 dollars and I thought to myself why not read it on a rainy day or something. I bought it and then we got right into the car and headed to the grocery store. While I'm in the car I was looking at the book and flipping through its pages really quickly. A small crumpled up, rectangular piece of paper flies out, to the bottom of my seat. I pick it up, my heart starts beating really fast, my eyes open very wide. I blink a couple of times and see that this piece of paper is a check for 3 million dollars. 

No Family. No Friends.

Lily Zelov

F Block

Mr. Dilworth

9/7/14

No Family. No Friends.

           

I walked down the city street, observing each person as I passed them.  An old man sat against a building, his withered hands partially covered by tattered gloves.  He held a sign that read, “Spare some change to help an old man.  No family.  No friends.”  I had seen this sort of thing before, day after day.  There was always a bum holding up a sign next to a soda cup that contained one dollar, maybe more, if they were lucky.  I had seen men and women sleeping in boxes, young people curled up on a street corner next to their dogs.  None of this was new to me, yet I stopped and watched this old man, shivering in the brisk winter air, a red hat covering his scraggly hair and beard.  With my hands shoved in my pocket, I fingered my leather wallet, wondering if giving this poor fellow money was worth it.  Would he use my money to buy food, a jacket, maybe some new markers for his sign? Or would he go to a liquor store, spend every last dime on booze, and drink until he passes out on the very same sidewalk I was currently standing?  I looked up and watched as a trim young man in a pinstriped suit and heavy overcoat strolled right by the bum, gave him an obvious look of disgust, checked his Rolex, and briskly walked out of my sight.  I looked back at this man’s sign.  “No family. No friends.” My mind was teeming with questions. Did he have a family at one time? Did some tragic accident leave him alone in the world? Did he have a wife? Children? No friends? Had this man just been antisocial, or had he outlived everyone he knew? Had he done something terrible that left him stranded on the streets of Philadelphia? As I thought of all these questions, I had a realization: we do not get to know everything.  Frankly, we know hardly anything.  I hadn’t a clue about the lives of the people that were passing by me at this very second.  But in that moment, I decided that we, as humans, need to make an effort to know as much as we can.  I wanted to know about this old man.  I wanted to hear about his life, his struggles, his failures, and his triumphs, who he loved, and who he lost.  I wanted to make an effort to know as much as possible.

I sat down next to him.   

The City of Dreams

New York. I was finally in the city everyone had been talking about. My car emerged from the tunnel as I rolled down my window to take in the scene before me. Some of the mist from that morning still lingered low to the ground and there were people everywhere. I head the screeching of tires and snippets of conversations. I studied each person individually as the car slowly inched forward with the rest of traffic. I smelt pollution coming from large buildings and food from a nearby bakery, and could imagine the sweet tasting cupcakes and bread. My fingers played with the interior of the car as I watched the top of buildings disappear into the sky.

Short Story By Phoebe Christos

Phoebe Christos
F Block English
Mr. Dilworth
9/8/2014

I Will Never Know

         Everybody says that it is haunted. The house across the street from me was once a beautiful home. Not anymore. You can hardly tell that the house was once all white. Over the years it has become hidden behind dirt and now it is a dull shade of grey. The trees seem to envelope the house. They grow in every which way. The pine needles cover what was once a beautiful driveway, paved with blacktop and detailed with stone. The fountain in the front yard has run dry. Nobody has seen a light or television on inside the big white house. The neighbors complain about it. They complain about him too. They do not even know him. He is the most odd thing about the house; the old man who lives inside of it. Most of the children are not allowed to go near his house. Parents are afraid that he will hurt them. He is always there. He goes outside a lot and sits on the creaky front porch steps that are falling apart as he smokes a cigar. Today he is out front. He is sitting on his front steps as he stares at the ground. He wears a navy blue and grey flannel button-down, khaki shorts and no shoes. His hair is wiry, scarce and dirty. I kind of feel sorry for him. I have never seen anybody come visit him. He must be so lonely. Everybody talks about him. Yet, nobody ever talks to him. Sometimes he waves at passerby and instead of smiling back, they give him a look of disapproval, shake their heads and walk away.  People stare at him through their car window as they drive by, whispering in hushed voices about how strange he is. He is the only quirk in our extremely boring town. Children run in the opposite direction of the house. They dare one another to go knock on the front door. No child has ever been brave enough to even walk ten feet down his driveway. He is a mystery to everybody in our small town. I wonder if he was ever married. Maybe he has a son or daughter. I wonder if he has any friends. Everybody wants to know his story, however nobody is willing to talk to him. Neither am I. I guess I will never know.

Cancer survivor, a young boy's battle

Olivia Cunningham
9/7/14
F Block
Introduction to Literature

 

Couch, R. (2014, May 19). Striking Before-And-After Photo Illustrates Childhood Cancer Survivor's Inspiring Recovery. Huff Post Impact . United states: The Huffington Post.

This picture in many ways tells a short story that can evoke feelings of sadness and hope in many readers' eyes. Noah was just four years old when he was diagnosed with AML, a rare and very serious form of leukemia. Through three years of being hospitalized, chemotherapy, and a bone marrow transplant, Noah is cancer free and is back to his happy, and cheerful self. I chose this picture to be my short story because many people hear about cancer victims and survivors, but as I read the article this picture came from, it struck me so hard I am forever changed. A four year old boy battling cancer....He is one brave kid. His wholehearted spirit is what kept him alive in the most desperate of times, and because of his perseverance, he is finally able to live a normal life that every child should have a chance at living.