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The man-made markings from 2005, made by people who searched New Orleans’ homes for survivors, were still on the sides of houses in 2009. Those markings, x and 0 or another number, indicated how many people, if any, had been found dead inside the house. I didn't expect to see them, especially on the public library. (And I didn’t understand why those markings would be on the side of a public library). I was on a train in September 2005 when I saw the flooded houses for the first time without a television. In 2009, I could walk up to the houses with the markings or see them from porch of the friend’s house that I was visiting with my sister. It was 2010 and the effect was as strong as it was in 2005.
A drive into Metairie with my sister and our friends made me feel like a tourist and it was the oddest feeling to no longer be home in a place you grew up and hung out in. I lived on the West Bank, which was across the Crescent City Bridge from New Orleans and most Sundays, mom and I would hang out in our favorite bookstore where we'd be greeted. Barnes and Noble had a different feel, like it someone else's to enjoy, no longer mine. I didn’t recognize any of the employees in the Barnes and Nobles on the West Bank and I didn’t see the woman who hosted the poetry readings that I participated. The security didn’t say hello because he didn’t know me on this visit to the large bookstore.
The true change was when my sister and I met our mom in New Orleans in 2009. We stayed in a hotel and had some great Nawlins cuisine at the Court of Two Sisters, Nola and The French Quarter Festival. It was my sister's first time at the French Quarter Festival, which was something neither mom or I knew. The event is a free to get in and the food samples are fairly inexpensive and a little large than sample portions and are always delicious.
. There weren't any reminders of Hurricane Katrina in the French Quarter or the Central Business District. Tourists and natives enjoyed oysters, hurricane daiquiris, the shopping and the city herself.
On the second to last day of our visit, I went to mass with my mom and my sister. I sat in the pew and realized that New Orleans wasn’t home anymore. I came home as a tourist and even touring the west bank where I grew up felt like I was in someone else’s city. I didn’t cry, but I did come to the conclusion that it was time to move on, time to completely move into Atlanta GA, where I lived since 2008 with my sister and perhaps make that my new home.
The man-made markings were still on the side of the house in 2009, the markings that meant someone had been found dead inside or the house was empty. I didn't expect to see them, especially on the public library. I was on a train in September 2005 when I saw the flooded houses for the first time without a television. In 2009, I was still as deeply affected as I was in 2005.
A drive into Metairie made me feel like a tourist and it was the oddest feeling to no longer be home in a place you grew up and hung out in. I lived on the West Bank, which was across the Crescent City Bridge from New Orleans and most Sundays mom and I would hang out in our favorite bookstore where we'd be greeted. Barnes and Noble had a different feel, like it someone else's to enjoy, no longer mine.
The true change was when my sister and I met our mom in New Orleans. We stayed in a hotel and had some great Nawlins cuisine at the Court of Two Sisters, Nola and The French Quarter Festival. The closest Atlanta comes is Pappadeaux, though it's the only restaurant I've been to looking for New Orleans food. It was my sister's first time at the French Quarter Festival, which is a free event except for the food and drinks you purchase.
We hardly thought of Hurricane Katrina on this trip. There weren't any reminders in the tourist areas of Hurricane Katrina, only a seemingly newness that I couldn't point at and say, that was different. I didn't mention any of my thoughts of Hurricane Katrina, just that it felt different and not home anymore. I didn't feel the urge to come back and live there, other than a wondering of what it might be like and how living there might be different post Katrina.
New Orleans wouldn't be my way of going home, except for in my memories.
First sentences are my favorite exercises because they carry questions that you want to answer through a first draft that will hopefully lead to the final draft.
I was walking the dog.
They couldn't stop arguing.
What do these sentences mean? I want to write further to learn where these sentences can lead me and who are these characters walking the dog and arguing. I think writing exercises are the best way to start stories, especially when you feel you have writer's block.
Try, What would so and so write if so and so wrote fiction. A singer might write about their days on the road without family. Your mom might write about her pre-children days. And what would your younger self write about or even your older self?
I will always go back to that first sentence because no matter how much planning you've put into your story, you always begin with that first sentence.
This is an Anne Lamott exercise. She says, "Writing a first draft is very much like watching a Polaroid develop. You can't--and, in fact, you're not supposed to--know exactly what the picture is going to look like until it has finished developing. First you ping at what has your attention and take the picture." Outside my window is red horse trailer. I'm not sure what I'll do with it, but it has captured my attention.
Start with a situation or event, either public or personal. Imagine what a character was doing when a public figure such as Diana Ross or River Phoenix or Michael Jackson died. How about that school dance you wanted to go to?
It's always easier to start with something than it is to stare at a blank sheet of paper and hope that something will come to you.
I will do my best to make this a weekly blog. I still want to make this a story/character blog where I try to tell interesting stories based on life.
She jumped over the fence and crouched like a criminal. She had her flashlight shined on the grass, moving it from across the green blades. She was ten years old and very frightened of her teen years. What if she and the boy she was playing with couldn't do this any more?
"Gotcha," a boy said, drawing her out of her thoughts.
I think I will continue this story. Maybe. But I will write in my blog on a more regular basis.
What if is a great writing exercise. What if your uncle, who plays golf, asks you to go to the golf course with him for a serious talk and you think you know what the conversation might be about.
I've always believed that when you write a story you're asking, what happened to your character and what will your character do about it. My character kissed a boy, maybe her friend or maybe her enemy. What will your character do about it and what if your character was a boy?
September 23rd 2009 14:53
The first thing you notice about Chicago is that it’s a very clean city, the cleanest one in America that I have ever been to. There still are homeless begging for change in the street. I was in a Barnes and Nobles one day when a homeless man banged on the window and asked for change. My eyes invited him over because after I turned away, he was at my window. Besides the cleanliness, there’s something else that makes Chicago different from any other city I’ve been to.
Stores are downtown and shopping malls are downtown, whereas in most big cities, the stores and especially the malls are in the suburbs and no one wants to be downtowns because nothing is going on there. Another difference is that no one is allowed to build along the river so it remains the perfect place to go to hang out and do tourist things like take boat rides, have lunch or dinner or ride the different rides that the riverfront offers. There is always something to do in Chicago
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Reading a story is like reading a memory. To me it's similar to listening to a song you want to keep going back to. It's haunting, no matter the subject. Someone is telling you the secret moment of their life. And, the more you read the story, the more eager you are to finish the story and hope there's another story by this person somewhere.
I'm not sure when I fell in love with reading short stories. It may have been after reading Alice Walker or J. California Cooper. I just felt like I was walking a moment with William Gay's characters. I was in his wild nature, listening to everything his characters had to say and show me. It's beautiful.
My favorite website is narrativemagazine.com. It's free to join and read the stories. You might want to contribute a piece of writing one day. It's a great introduction to short stories because it's free. When you're in a bookstore, pick up an anthology and read a story or two in there. I'm not saying replace novel reading with reading stories, I'm saying include a few short story authors on your reading list. Broke Back Mountain was an excellent short story by Annie Proulx
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In my last blog I asked how did Stephenie Meyer create characters that we fell in love with? As I read my favorite parts over and over, I realize it's characters with problems and wants that we can relate to. Who doesn't want someone to love them as deeply as Edward loves Bella and Bella loves Edward?Stephenie Meyer made the story believable.
I believe that Meyer is a writer that all aspring writers should study. She has the characters that we all relate to, the problems that they are struggling to solve and they goals that they are struggling to achieve. This is exactly what I am trying to do. Write stories with characters that readers can fall in love with
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How do you get your readers to fall in love with your characters? I fell in love with Edward and with Bella and then with the rest of the Cullens and I don’t read vampire novels. I like realistic stories with the exception of Harry Potter. But nothing prepared me for Stephenie Meyer’s twilight series.
Stephenie Meyer did a great job creating characters that you want to go back to over and over again. I found it difficult to impossible to put down the book and do my own writing. I felt how powerful and beautiful love could be through not only Bell and Edward, but in the way the Cullens invited Bella into their world. I liked knowing them. And I liked knowing the wearwolf clan
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My name is Kossiwa Logan. My blogs will be about reading and writing stories on various topics. I'll incorporate topics like fiction, relationships, fashion, sports, tv, life and other newsworthy and current events. I'm going to try to make this a weekly blog. I hope that you will enjoy reading my blog.
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