By 3 p.m., Wed., Feb. 8, please briefly describe the incident or scene that you will use as the basis of your short prose submission (no longer than 500 words and closer to 250) to cur.ren.cy. Read the submission guidelines below before posting. It's important that your prospective subject be journalistic as well as literary. Keep in mind Henry James' criteria for judging a piece of writing: 1) What is the writer trying to achieve? 2) Did the writer achieve it? 3) Was it worth achieving? The last is also the most important.
http://www.currencylit.com/submit
22 comments:
During this past summer, I worked as a lifeguard for the Rocking Horse Ranch Resort in Highland, N.Y. I had 15 saves total. Maybe three parents thanked me as well as thanked god. The majority of them said, "My kid can swim."
The scene I am intending to write is my first save as a lifeguard. I hope to capture "asshole-ish" nature of people coming to a "resort" and treating lifeguards as they would treat a servant or babysitter.
Should be interesting.
In October of my freshman year in college I lost one of my best friends in a car accident. Therefore, I was thinking about writing my piece about a particular scene at the candlelight vigil we held a couple days after his death. The night is instilled into my memory so I can recall every moment.
However, Professor Good;I know you mentioned the so what? aspect. Others reading my story will have no idea who Pawel was so they may not be interested, but I was thinking I would incorporate the larger message about staggering statistics on teenage car accidents in this country so that is relate-able to a wider audience.
If this is still not a good topic, then my second choice would be to describe a scene that took place at my house where a few of my friends were discussing the struggles of paying for college on their own. My parents help with my educational finances, so I would incorporate the guilt I feel for having it easier than many other students. I could be more specific with this once I actually started writing it.
In October of my freshman year in college I lost one of my best friends in a car accident. Therefore, I was thinking about writing my piece about a particular scene at the candlelight vigil we held a couple days after his death. The night is instilled into my memory so I can recall every moment.
However, Professor Good;I know you mentioned the so what? aspect. Others reading my story will have no idea who Pawel was so they may not be interested, but I was thinking I would incorporate the larger message about staggering statistics on teenage car accidents in this country so that is relate-able to a wider audience.
If this is still not a good topic, then my second choice would be to describe a scene that took place at my house where a few of my friends were discussing the struggles of paying for college on their own. My parents help with my educational finances, so I would incorporate the guilt I feel for having it easier than many other students. I could be more specific with this once I actually started writing it.
I mentioned in my last post on Sunday about the story idea on my Aunt from Florida who overdosed.
The last post was very broad and vague so I think I want to boil it down to the two phone calls I received: one from my family in Florida and the second phone call from my family in New York who called me when they arrived in Florida, giving me the final news.
I want to focus on what was going on in my mind between both phone calls and the mysteries that surfaced my brain at the time.
Over the winter break, I had an interview with one of the top accounting firms in the city. I’ve had other interviews before, but this one felt like a big deal. Submitting a resume for a job does not guarantee you an interview, and most companies will only interview a limited number of people based on their resume.
I would like to write about what was going on in my head during this interview because I was so appreciative that I was given this opportunity to present myself to the firm, especially in this economy since the unemployment rate is so high. I’m sure that many people would have liked to be in my shoes that day. I’d like for my story to relate to how hard it is to find a job now and unemployment.
After last class, I came up to you with my interest in the string of pharamcy robberies on Long Island. You then gave me the idea of how I now feel walking into a pharmacy knowing that five people were shot and killed over the summer because someone wanted prescription meds.
Over the summer I had my wisdom teeth removed and remember walking into a pharmacy to fill my painkilled prescription. Not only was I paranoid that the tragedy that had taken place 2 months earlier would occur while I was inside but also the effect the painkillers I was to take would have.
My landlord wears a foil hat. He wears this homemade headwear to ward off the innumerable evils of the wireless Internet he thinks we have (we do). Throughout the past few weeks he has been accusing us of having our own router, regardless of how you can pick up our neighbors’ networks in our house as well. No one could attribute his many pains and headaches to a Wi-Fi signal during his visits to the hospital, apparently, or else he would have brought a doctor’s note, I’m sure. It’s hard to avoid him and these subsequent confrontations though, since he lives in our wall. The other day, he broached the subject of Wi-Fi again, and pulled up the edge of his knit hat to reveal to me how he had shaped foil to his head. This is the scene I want to write about.
Last semester I studied abroad in Prague. While abroad I traveled to several places, one being Rome. On my way back from Rome, I had a layover in Amsterdam. And while in Amsterdam my flight got canceled, and delayed, and I pretty much had to spend the night in Amsterdam. It was a complete nightmare standing in long lines to get rescheduled flights, to get a hotel for the night, etc. I was thinking of writing about a specific part from that day.
Another idea I had was writing about a time I was on the tram with my friend going into the city of Prague, when a homeless person (who clearly had some sort of mental issue) came onto the tram. Everyone kind of moved away from him and I feel like that is such a common thing to do when a homeless person comes onto public transportation.
For some time now, the question of 'Do we live in a post-racial society?' has been repeated and analyzed countless times. Last semester answered that question on the New Paltz campus with the racial sign postings. As news editor now and last semester, i saw first hand how uncomfortable a room full of mostly white kids felt, and the constant questioning that arose over whether we were doing the right thing with the editorial piece and the articles. Analyzing every possible consequence before publication, were we handling them with care?
I want to write about that editorial discussion meeting, and how it challenged me and made me ask myself questions that I would have preferred to leave in the dark.
I think that meeting represents a large segment of society that still feels the effects of racism, and others that like to think it's over because strides have been attempted for equality.
Something as simple as this conversation can make a person think about years of a racist institution.
Last year, I became aware that friends of mine not only go to college for free, but literally make money by going to school. They are given credit cards with hundreds of dollars on them for "books". I want to address a time when my friends joked about how great it was to not have to pay, and how they spent the extra money on things like cigarettes or Dutch Masters. Knowing that I am tens of thousands of dollars in debt and spending nearly all the money I earned over the summer on books while some are simply handed oppurtunities absolutely infuriated me. It almost felt as if I was being punished for not qualifying for this type of financial aid. While these programs are absolutely necessary for some, it is obvious that there are some serious issues with the system.
Recently, a close friend of mine's boyfriend for over 2 years was deployed to Afghanistan. He is 23 years old. I wanted to talk about the time when she told me this sad news and how devastating it is to see a friend go through such a painful experience and how she is coping. It made me realize how many people all over this country are affected by the war and how often the feelings of the soldiers' family and friends are overlooked.
However, I know you would rather want this to be first person so if the first idea does not suffice I wanted to write about my time as a Sales Associate for Staples. I worked there for two summers. It was the only job I could find and just a few cents over minimum wage. I didn't really mind because money is money. It made me sad, however, when I had coworkers nearly twice my age with children working on the same wage as my teenage self and receiving little respect from the managers and customers. This is something that is becoming more prominent as jobs are getting tougher to find. It was very eye opening to see my one coworker suffer, spending her days in an office supply store making nearly $8.00 an hour while her husband was at home ill with a medical problem. I want to talk about one instance where she told me how Ron, the manager, cut her hours and how sick her husband was, all while customers were around us.
I was trying to think of an incident or happening from my life that could potentially be anecdotal. Since Drift was an procedural genre piece, I intend to do the same and use statistics.
At first I was thinking about doing a story about seeing my grandfather, a once strong and stern man become immobile, voiceless (due to a stroke.) He was laying in a nursing home, my mother (who he treated horribly) was now taking care of him, spoon feeding him. I witnessed my father cry for the first time. Maybe relate that to seniors and whatnot, (still unsure how to take an approach to this)
Or I can write about the time I was working on my documentary about heroin addiction, I've interviewed a ton of people, but not to the extent of this. I got a lot of negative feedback from faculty for going on a "drug run" with my subject and his "friends."
Or I can write about "slut-shaming." How a certain incident brought to light of how harmful the word is.
*it deleted a part of my comment so i'll finish it here:
I wanted to go on the drug run to see the process for myself and document it. I thought we were coming back to New Paltz but I was wrong. We ended up in a Target parking lot. Here I am freaking out in the back of the car while a couple of the kids shot up. It was an experience I will never forget. Even though I potentially put myself in danger, how can I get the story without getting the knitty gritty details my viewers should know? It was taking a chance, like many journalists do.
Like I mentioned after class, I'd like to write about the time my mom threw me a birthday party in which all of her friends got completely wasted. I woke up the next morning with one of her friends completely passed out in my bed next time me (keep in mind I had just turned seven). I think this speaks to the larger issues of drug and alcohol abuse, family structure and a sense of forced independence at a very young age.
If this doesn't suffice I'd like to write about one night I'd spent the night at my friend's house in my senior year of high school. His parents were illegal immigrants from Mexico and their house was absolutely (for lack of a better word) disgusting, but that never seemed to phase them, they were just happy to have the opportunity of being in America.
A few years ago, I went on vacation to Puerto Rico, and visited El Yunque national rainforest. It was a crucial time in my life because I was a senior in highschool who had no idea where to go for college. On top of that the economy was getting bad and my dad was struggling to keep his law firm. With that in mind I remember going under the large cold waterfall.
The scene that I would like to focus on is when I jumped into the water of the rainforest. I felt as if all my problems were being washed away and that the water was healing me. I want to capture the spirituality of water, and how I felt during that calming soothing experience.
I had to look deep within myself, for an experience that I was both emotionally and mentally affected by, and I think something good to talk about (especially after reading the submission guidelines)would be when I had to move into a shelter because my mom couldn't afford the rent in the apartment we were living in. There's way more to the story than that though. My sophomore year in high school was ending, and I took it harder than my sister did. I just felt like we didn't deserve to be in a situation like that, and why was it happening to us.
We were relocated to a building, so that the one we were living in could be renovated. My mom was very picky when it came to choosing a place to relocate to because she had a feeling that once we were there, the people who brought our building would try to keep us there so that when our original building opened, they could move new people in and raise the rent.
I think this topic is good to write about not only is it something I experienced and seen for myself, it's something that millions of people go through. Some, time and time again. What makes it worse is that with all the budget cuts, and lost funding, there aren't that much programs that used to help people afford rent in the city, and it seems to be getting harder and harder to survive. The person who brought the building we originally lived in, also owned the one we relocated to. My mom ended up in court with him because he had my mom sign a new lease, but told her that she wouldn't have to pay the amount that was on it, that she would be responsible for what she paid at the other apartment. We were also given an illegal eviction. We went out to the dentist with my mom, and when we came home, there was a lock on our door, but the door was in good condition, which gave us the impression that they came in from the back window. We were never given any notices. My mom was going to sue him, but we just ended up getting out of the lease, and going into a shelter. We've moved a few times after that. Living in a shelter(s)(because we hopped from different ones until we were placed) was hard because most places were really nasty. Sorry to write so much, but I just wanted to give details about why I'm going to write about this scene.
I plan to focus on what that experience was like for me, and how people that go through this daily are neglected or looked down upon, but really, it could happen to any of us. The buildings we lived in where Housing Preservation and Development, (HPD for short) buildings, which makes this story even more of a good topic (I think), because at that time, they were making the news a lot, about how owners were cheating or neglecting their tenants.
I was thinking of writing about my experiences working at a failing mom-and-pop coffee shop over the summer. Besides my terrible working conditions, I think one instance of me randomly seeing a "For Sale" sign in the window and not receiving any explanation could fit into the "tough economic times" angle it is supposed to have.
Originally I wanted to write about my experience in Guatemala, where I worked on a farm with the Guatemalan locals. I wanted to write about the poverty there and portray how Americans take the simplest things for granted.
However, after reading the guidelines for submission I tried to think of a situation or scene that had more to do with the economic situation in the United States. I am thinking about writing about something that happened to me last week. One of my best friends has made good money his whole life and has never been in trouble financially. Last week he had to ask me to borrow a lot of money so he could pay his bills on time because he knew I had gotten my loan money.
I was thinking of writing about this to show how hard the times are for everybody. I am not sure which I should write about so I would appreciate any feedback from all of you.
Last winter was the coldest, snowiest, longest I can remember. In the dead of winter,
my boyfriend and I were forcibly evicted from our apartment, although we were current
on the rent and had done nothing wrong. We lived on the second floor, and one day our
electricity and electric heat suddenly shut off. I went outside and under the stoop to get
into the basement to flip the switches, but my key wouldn’t turn the lock. My boyfriend
called the landlord, who was a friend of his from high school, but he didn’t pick up. We
would never hear from him again, actually.
Hours went by and he never returned our calls, and the house stayed dark, and the room
temperature dropped down to 30 degrees. We thought about breaking into the basement,
but decided we didn’t want to get arrested for breaking and entering. Meanwhile, we
had to stay somewhere or else we would freeze to death, so we walked down to my best
friend’s house, which was two blocks down the street. My friend, Lauren, has bipolar disorder, and was a recovering heroin
addict... who picked the night we stayed at her house to relapse.
I remember every moment of this day vividly. I think it would make a good vignette.
I have two ideas, one serious and one funny. The first idea is about my friend Tayo. She grew up in an abusive household. I would like to focus on a time she got caught throwing out a piece of chicken and was forced to eat it out of the garbage.
My second idea is about a time when I was 16 working in an ice cream shop. A woman was unhappy because her ice cream cone was leaking. Long story short, I had to give her money back to her and she chucked her cone at me.
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