Report Draft: C. Experimenting

The process leading up to the final drafts of our personal essay project was very experimental.  Each step, from generating the ideas for the essays, to incorporating literary tools in our writing, to video and media production, and even to sharing with audiences, was an experiment.  

First of all, the way in which we chose topics about which to write was very creative.  Dr. Burton read a list of different topics or experiences, and if something interested us, we were supposed to begin generating raw material about that topic.  We then wrote multiple blog posts to narrow down the topics of our essays. The elimination process depended highly upon our taking in account of other people's comments about what what they found most interesting.  That was experimental in itself in that we had to find ways to collaborate with classmates to review, edit, and share our material.  As the essay topics were narrowed down, we began experimenting with different forms of Mormon personal essays.  We studied examples of personal essays written by several authors, like Edward Geary, "Disorder and Early Joy", Tessa Santiago, "Take, Eat", and Gideon Burton, "In an Open Field, Near a Gravel Pit".  We then analyzed ways to include Mormon Humor from Personal essays like DeNae Handy’s, "Falling for You.", and we even experimente with how to make our writing more like poetry.

Secondly, whilst actually writing our essays, we experimented with different ways of incorporating imagery, description, figurative language, and the inclusion of the Book of Mormon aspect in our writing. As a result of several differnt writing stages, we concluded that it was most effective to establish respect with the reader by building up our credibililty through the application of literary tools in our writing, and then bringing in the Book of Mormon content.

Lastly, we experimented with different ways of sharing the content of our essays.  This included experimentation with video production, as well as selecting audiences or individuals with whom to share our material through social media and offline interaction.   The video production included each member of the class developing their own minute-long video to advertise their essay with their own preferences to background, content, and inclusion of the Book of Mormon, as well as whose essay we talked about.  Our initial videos helped us to determine what the effective aspects were.  As a result of this experiment, and differences in aspects like sound and lighting, the final draft of our videos was much more uniform in the above-mentioned components.

Implementing the Sharing Plan (Updated)

While putting my sharing plan into action, I thought of different people to share with and decided on sharing different essays than I originally intended. It has been cool to relate the messages of other's essays with the experiences and personalities of my friends and family. And I have been encouraged by the positive reactions I have gotten so far.
Like Clark, I started by sharing, face-to-face, with someone who I am very comfortable with. I shared Mary's video with my roommate Rachel and in our conversation afterwards, I was surprised by how much I learned about her. She told me about kids she worked with that influenced her and showed me pictures. She was very animated and she was very willing she was to accept my invitation to read Mary's essay and check out more of the blog.
Also, I was able to share Emily's essay with my little sister, who has experienced similar setbacks in trying out for theater productions. I emailed her the link to her essay and then we talked on the phone about it later. She liked how Emily used Nephi in her essay and the Einstein quote. She also wanted to hear my essay so I read it to her over the phone. It was interesting how our perceptions of the same events were different. It was nice to spend some time talking to her.
 I was able to share my essay with my Dad and talk with him on the phone about it for over an hour. He liked it a lot and we were able to have a good conversation on the importance of family. It became a kind of teaching experience for me; we talked a lot about what church leaders have said about families and the decline of the family unit in much of society today.
I have been Facebook messaging an old Sunday School teacher, and I was able to talk more with her and learn what she has been up to. I sent her my video through that medium. She has not yet responded but I think she will like hearing more about my family and my incorporation of the Book of Mormon.
I also emailed my essay to my non-member best friend Devin, who is currently going to school in Virginia. We edited each others essay throughout high school and we still edit back and forth. I emailed her my essay and asked about everything going on with her. She loved my essay and I invited her to read my brother's essay about his mission because I shared with her a little bit about Elijah's mission before. I also sent her the mormon message "He is the gift." We plan to meet up over break and I might follow-up a bit more then. It was a great opportunity to catch up and increase familiarity with the Church.
I shared my brother's essay with a friend in my ward that is leaving for a mission in a few months. She really liked the part of his essay I shared with her and wanted me to send it to her. I was able to talk to her about her mission and learn more about her.

Finding the Sweet Amongst the Bitter

 My big family can drive me crazy, but they help me see clearly what is important.  

Strategy for Sharing Personal Essays

11.My best friend from home, Devin. We always edit each other’s essays and I recently spent some time this week giving her feedback on a paper. I am sure she would like to read my essay and would have good comments, especially on the Book of Mormon aspect, as she is a non-member. Also, I haven’t called her very recently so it would also be a good opportunity to catch up.

22. My Dad. I like to talk about ideas and assignments with him because he always has good insights and advice. I think he would like to read my essay and have a conversation, on Skype or over the phone, about it.

33.My roommate Rachel. She is very supportive and I am sure she would be willing to have me read it to her. I also think it would be useful to share it in person to be able to gage interest level on this newest draft as I’m reading and have an open conversation.

44.My friend Laura. I haven’t talked with her for a few months and I think this would be a cool way to reconnect with her. I will probably share this with her over email, and maybe call her. She also has a bigger family, so I think she will be able to relate to the topic of my essay and it could be a missionary experience as she is a non-member.

55.My little sister Mary. It would be a good way to strengthen our relationship. It haven’t been able to spend much time with her lately since we live so far apart, and I think this would be a way to get in touch and have a good conversation. I bet she would be willing to watch some of the video intros as well.

66.Erin, one of my ward members. I think she could really relate to my essay because she is from a similar family background. She is frank and direct and I think she would share about her own similar experiences and have interesting things to say about my essay.

Fiction as an Outlet for Authenticity

Fiction allows true aspects of LDS experience to be depicted in a light-hearted, humorous way that could be more difficult to accomplish in non-fiction. This is seen repeatedly in Doug Thayer’s novel: Will Wonders Never Cease. The principle of chastity is a big focus of many youth lessons and talks by leaders of the LDS church. This is conveyed in the novel through Lucille’s determined and constant efforts to teach Kyle, and other youth, sex-ed. She holds ward sex-ed meetings, she makes Kyle look up sexual words in the dictionary and discuss them with her and when she attends the 6^th grade sex talk with him, she finds it to be woefully uninformative. This preoccupation with chastity is ingrained in Mormon culture and depicted in a somewhat humorous, exaggerated way in Thayer’s novel. It illustrates an authentic part of Mormon beliefs and youth life, while also making such a serious, heavy topic more approachable. And although it pokes some fun at this overzealousness, Kyle is also seen as a little grateful for this education because he doesn’t have the same confusion as his friends.

In the non-fiction genre, writers have to stick closely to the facts of a situation and leave out exaggerations. Additionally, in non-fiction writing such as a personal essay, writers may find it difficult to include personal flaws or the less flattering aspects of the church. The same perceptions that would be relatable and funny from fictional character may come across as deprecating or critical when expressed by a faithful member of the church, especially to a non-member audience. Also, personal essay writers may not want to offend those close to them by disclosing their unfiltered perceptions and judgments. Kyle, on the other hand, is allowed to share his unfiltered thoughts and comment on his mother, father, brothers and friends without fear of giving offence because he is a fictional character, not a real person consciously sharing a life experience.

Personal Essay Video

I created a video describing my own personal essay and I did incorporate an aspect of the Book of Mormon. I found this assignment difficult as I dislike filming myself. Also, I am not sure if this generates interest about my essay or just summarizes in a less meaningful way my essay's message. Anyway, here is the link: http://youtu.be/iMPunTTKSFk .

Family Backgrounds

I read my personal essay to my roommate Paige. This process, as well as the input of classmates, gave me many helpful ideas of how to revise my draft.

Listening to my essay, I noticed some tense errors, as well as some other grammatical mistakes and repetition. I also found myself adding words to emphasize the effect of certain phrases and even to preface one event. I wrote in many changes that will help my essay be less redundant and more interesting.

Paige’s response to my essay helped me figure out what I should expand upon and emphasize with more imagery and descriptive language. For example, she laughed at the description of my siblings at the airport, but seemed to be less engaged during my description of my family at home. Through this, I realized that I had included much more colorful, detailed characterizations in the former than the later. I was also able to get feedback that my transitions were not confusing and this helped clear up some of my concerns about my writing.

Also, I had to explain the Book of Mormon component of my essay to her because it was a quote that does not seem explicitly scriptural until you see the citation. This made me reconsider expanding this aspect of my essay and adding more analysis.

In the last part of my essay, where I talk about my baby sister, Paige responded with a big “aww.” This led to me sharing more about her and my family. Paige told me more about her family, which is also big. I was able to share my experiences of being a Mormon with a big family in Minnesota and Paige compared it to her experiences in a large family in Idaho. It was cool to hear the differences and similarities in our perceptions of this common background.

Recognizing Spiritual Comets in James Best's "Wayne"

In his poem “Wayne”, James Best develops the character of quirky, delusional Wayne through his interaction with his social worker. I found the descriptions of Wayne compelling because of his unique point-of-view and the authenticity of Best’s writing.

            The poem starts with the imagery of Wayne painting the roof, his “hot metal canvas” with black paint against the white with such messages as “Spy planes, your rape the Heavens!” and “End Imminent—Retreat to Space.” The image of a man laboriously painting his metal roof in the heat of the sun combined with the detail of his slogans in an engaging introduction that piques the interest. Best continues to combine arresting and genuine detail with imagery throughout, such as when Wayne “spends four days drawing 600 pages/ of ambulances” and becomes “so happy he has to hug himself/ to hold himself in.”  He is seen as a little crazy, and then as a child in an adult’s body. It is a fascinating look into the psychology of the mentally unstable; protected and removed as you are from the alarming aspects of the scene, peering in through the words and lines of the poem. 

  Mormons are constantly reminded to have charity for all, to serve and love even (especially) those that are not looked highly upon by most of society. But there is often a difference between believing something and actually practicing it. You may nod your head in sacrament meeting, and then pass by the dirty, tired-looking man on the street. This poem forces you to confront the often-unseen fellow children of God and remember that He loves them just as completely. Wayne is mentally dysfunctional and possesses many kooky ideas, such as his belief that the government shoots down comets, which “are just whales/ drifting through a different ocean.” Yet the command to love your neighbor applies just as fully to individuals like Wayne as the high-functioning lawyer in the next pew.

As I read, I started to evaluate my own treatment of those that appear a little weird, not wholly together. Do I shy away from these sorts of interactions? Do I look at them with less respect, with a little revulsion? My attitude has certainly not been without fault. On my second reading of “Wayne,” I noticed the repetition of the idea of comets in the final lines. Looking up into the “clear night” sky, Wayne shouts in excitement:

“They’ll never shoot them down again!”

“I speak to the comets now!”

Though I first dismissed this as simply another of his crackpot theories, Best’s repetition clearly signaled its importance in the poem. I saw it as a call. Those like Wayne perceive the world in a completely different way, they are like whales swimming in a different ocean. Instead of trying to “shoot them down” with hard-hearted judgment and unkindness, I should strive to develop empathy and compassion. A disheveled exterior may conceal a spirit, bright and shining like a comet, within.

Midwestern Wilderness (Personal Essay Draft 2)

In my revised essay, I wrote about a different experience, as I received the feedback that my previous topic was somewhat cliche. Also, I tried to use with a more comprehensible and clear form in my writing to minimize any confusion on the part of the reader. I also tried to incorporate the Book of Mormon by likening my own experience to that of its characters. I strove to include concrete detail and to fully characterize the people described in my essay.

The Perfume Collection

Dust motes float softly in the golden light that filters down from windows cut high in the vaulted ceiling. I rest my fingers gently on the outside of the display cabinet; where they leave dull, opaque smudges on the polished glass. Head slightly bowed and body still, I gaze at the shelves of delicate perfume bottles, resting without particular organization or form. One, shell pink with gently curving sides and a butterfly top, resides beside a bottle the deep blue of a calm lake and geometric, multi-faceted sides that spin light in every direction. Square, round, spiky bottles all fine, all settled in lovely repose; richly appareled queens with downcast eyes, demure in their splendor.

I slowly reach one trembling hand into the cabinet and withdraw a teardrop shaped bottle the dusky gold of the sky surrounding the setting sun. I take off the cap and inhale the smell that is enshrined in the remaining few drops. The scent eases my eyes closed and curls through my mind, teasing memories to the surface.

            The sharp smell of disinfectant slices through the air, assaulting me as I step through the door of the house that is no longer my grandparents. The house has been scrubbed clean—not only of any dust or mess, but of the pictures of each family member on the bland white walls, of the cabinet of VHS cassettes containing Mary Kate and Ashley movies my sisters and I loved, of the Barbie doll with the crocheted wedding dress, of the apples decorating every available surface of the kitchen, of the constant supply of popsicles in the freezer. I breathe in the emptiness of the house and feel it saturate my emotions.

            “You know, this is probably the last time we’ll ever come here” my cousin observes, deceptively calm and detached. She is still wearing her bright green dress from the funeral, hands shoved deep in her pockets. I nod placidly, trying to commit every detail to memory as we walk through each room in the small house. We walk in silence outside, shutting the white, wrought iron screen door with a solid clunk. The verdant grass, a vivid green, is soft and thick under our feet. I stoop down one last time, running my fingers through its supple strands. As I climb into the car, I stare at the closed door of their house and wonder who will take care of the grass.

            I place the bottle back in the cabinet and withdraw a clear, simple square bottle.

            Fresh air, crisp and sweet, breezes in through the open doors of my grandparent’s home. Sunlight streams through gauzy white curtains and fills the space. My grandma leans against the kitchen counter, while my brother and I sit on sturdy wooden stools trying to count all the apples—seen in the wallpaper, clock, fruit bowl and wall hangings—decorating the kitchen.

            Her eyes twinkle behind her glasses and her small hands, spotted by age and traversed by puffy blue veins rest on the counter. She wears navy slacks and a collared, striped shirt that is slightly too big for her thin frame. Elijah and I are at fifty when a sleek brown cat appears at the garage door.

We watch in surprise as he sprints downstairs and back upstairs and jumps on the coaches and back out the front door. We laugh and resume counting, when the cat rushes through the door again. This time, I leap off the floor and chase it down the stairs, over the couches and behind the bed. He swerves around the basement spastically and then back up the stairs and through the door. We barely sit back down when the cat reappears, and this time Elijah joins in the pursuit with me. He and I follow the cat closely with a paper bag between us. And the cat’s crescent black eyes narrow with the promise of challenge and we face off across the basement floor. He weaves, we bob, following him like a shadow. But we are no match for ninja-like reflexes and he escapes past us up the stairs. He leaps onto the counter-top of the kitchen and begins to savor his victory by eating the Cheetos in a bowl. This is too cruel a blow for even Grandma’s long-suffering nature, and she too becomes embroiled in the rivalry, shouting, “You dang cat! Those ain’t your Cheetos! You get off my countertop!” and moving to shoo the cat out. Elijah and I collapse in giggles.

Grandma is forced to enlist a higher power: Grandpa, who successfully rids us of the scourge accompanied by cheers and praise. We celebrate the triumph on the front lawn in the bright mid-day sun with popsicles. I wipe away the red residue of the strawberry slush from my mouth and cartwheel, hands over feet again and again in the cool grass.

            I return the perfume bottle with a smile, reaching for a petite, rosy-tinted bottle with facets that reflects light.

            As soon as the car stops, I push open the door and leap out of the car and up the front step to the door. My little brother rings the doorbell again and again in excitement as I trace the curling metal of the door with my hand. My Grandma opens the door and her expression of pure delight at seeing us is made more beautiful by the pinkish morning light. She envelops me in a warm hug; I smell her delicate floral perfume that is inextricably associated with my time in her home.

            My parents and Grandpa gather on the cushy leather couches with my siblings, and I gather in the kitchen. The sizzle of bacon on the grill and the sweet, floury smell of pancakes baking supplies a pleasant background, as we jostle against each other for the spinning bar tools and compete against each other for Grandma’s attention. Sitting in my grandparent’s kitchen, surrounded by my loud family and the ghosts of good memories, I am completely content.

          

I love my grandparents. My time in their home was idyllic, pure, innocent, safe, beautiful. Their house remains, but it is filled with the pictures of another family. Perhaps the kitchen is decorated with pears instead of apples and the grass is thin and straw-like instead of thick and moist. When they left, their home became simply a house. And it was empty. I look forward with “a perfect brightness of hope” to the day when I, after “press[ing] forward” with “steadfastness” against obstacles as small as swaggering cats or so big as too seem insurmountable, will visit my grandparents in their heavenly home (2 Nephi 31:20).

I put the final bottle back, and in the brightest point of the display case I clear a spot.