Thursday, August 27, 2009

Enjoy the last few days of summer and best of luck during the school year. Remember to submit your writing to this blog throughout the school year. Also, your anthologies should be arriving soon. They are terrific.

Here is a poem from Molly. Thank you for sharing.

Dear Daddy


Dear Daddy,

I love you.
Though we still have our,
disagreements.
I love you.
Everything you've done,
has paid off.
Saying
"no" to certain things
helps me understand
“the Dangers of this
world”
and the strange people
living in it.

Dear Daddy,
I love you,
but I feel a little unsure of
what you expect of me.
Am I really a snob for wanting to go to
Harvard Law School?
Did you mean it like that?
Or is it because you didn't go to
College?
Or is misunderstanding you my perfusion?

Dear Daddy,
I will always love you.
You don't have to take me out
anywhere.
You don't have to buy me new
clothes.
I can take care of myself.

Dear Daddy,
I want you to let me
grow up some more.
I know I'm only
12.
I have a long road ahead of
me.
But, I just want you to let me be,
and If I fall
all I want is yours and mother’s
support
to help pick me up.

Dear Daddy,
I love you.

Monday, August 10, 2009

It is terrific to see all this summer writing popping up on this blog. Thank you for sending your pieces along. I hope to see more as August rolls on. The following is a bit of creative writing from Althea.

UNTITLED

Its august now and school is just around the corner. I'm sitting here typing to a friend that lives six states away, wondering what to tell her. There is not much to say as my scedule is more relaxed now since its summer. During the school year I never seem to sit down; always running to my next subject or activity until it is nightime and I can finally sink back into the sofa and bury myself in books. As I stare at the screen a message pops up.

zoogrl: Hey u there

Seeing its Hazel, the girl I'm writing to right now, I debate whether I should answer or not

zoogrl: Hello r u there

I make up my mind

icesk8luvr:Ya

I wait for the next message to pop up.

zoogrl: whats up

icesk8luvr: nothin much. u?

zoogrl: me neither

I stare at the screen for a while. Then open another window before I can travel to another website The other window pops back

zoogrl: HELLO WHY R U IGNORING ME???!!!

icesk8luvr: I'm not

zoogrl: yes u r

icesk8luvr: Just wait 10 min

zoogrl: what u think I have all the time I want on the computer

icesk8luver: I know u do

icesk8luvr: just wait for a little while

zoogrl: fine but its boring

icesk8luvr: thanx

I return to the window and go to www.blogspot.com I make a blog within ten minutes and type my first entry

Summer days

I sit wondering when the next sunny day is so I can go out into a large field with a friend. Together we lay down on the grass finding shapes in the puffy white clouds. We talk and laugh together, somehow growing closer during that period of time. When the next day comes we are both rested and do somthing else such as going to the water park, spending the hours going down huge slides, swimming, and drinking ice cold slushies. How I wish I could do an activity like that today, but it wouldn't work in the rain. Oh well, maybe tomorrow.

icesk8luvr: hey I'm back

zoogrl: about time

icesk8luvr: sorry but I had to do somthing

zoogrl: Oh wait...

zoogrl: I have to go

zoogrl: mom calling me

zoogrl: bibi

icesk8luvr: cya

I didn't tell her about the blog, but I don't care. I guess its my privete thing for now. My own project just for me. I love summer.

Friday, August 7, 2009

The following piece was written following an exciting YAC experience. Our writers had an opportunity to meet with Justin Ellis and Sarah Corbett (see July 28 and 29 entries below). These two journalists shared their writing experiences with us. After our discussions we hit the streets looking to answer the question, "who are the people in our neighborhood." Thank you Kiernan for sharing this with us!

Torrents of Tourists

Tourists, if you like them or not, bring money to our shops. I knew that before I did this article, but I always thought that tourists couldn’t understand Maine culture. Never in a million years did I think that each one had an amazing story to tell.

Joel Wilts is from Connecticut and is extremely fond of his pup, Maya. Mark and Mary-Lou are from Ontario, Canada. Although they are not from America, they do have political opinions for their next-door neighbors. Their thoughts on government agree with most, but not all of the Obama administration. They believe that Canada has much better health care, but patriotic pride is something Canadians lack. On the other end of Mark and Mary-Lou there is Mimi and Giles. Mimi and Giles who are both from Virginia are here visiting family, but that’s the end of the normal tourist story. Giles is a graduate student in urban planning. She enjoys beehives, bike rides, hiking and tennis just to name a few. Mimi is a historical architect and has two cats. Together they have some pretty interesting ideas like public transportation being a human right or organic food being the same price as non-organic which are coupled with some main-stream ideas such as pro-choice and supporting our president, Barack Obama.

Tourists may never understand what it means to be a Mainer, but tourists have amazing stories to tell and are from totally different backgrounds. This article changed my mind about hating tourists because each one has a unique story to tell.

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Keep sending in those entries! You may send in an entire piece or a few short lines that you are tinkering with. We will get them up for others to read. Send your writing to PortlandYAC@gmail.com. Here is the start of a story from Muntaha.

In the newspaper, headlines read: 1 NEW KIDNAPPED IN LEWISTON.

“Hey, mom! Where does Edmund live again?” Carrie asked. “In Lewiston, he should be coming over on Friday.” It was a Tuesday. Carrie moaned. Edmund was their cousin from Lewiston. He was tall, pale, had black hair, and was very handsome. Although Lewiston was two towns away, he didn’t visit often. And although he didn’t visit that much, Carrie still noticed that when he did visit, he seemed different. And lately, when he smiled at her, it sent a chill down her spine. But, that didn’t mean she didn’t care for him. . . but still.

Beep! Beep! Beep! Went her alarm, which meant it was time to go to school. Carrie, starting that day, officially was a freshman at Portland High School. She was excited, she didn’t know what it would be like in the classrooms. She went to basketball games, and dances that were held in the gym, and the cafeteria. But, she never saw the hallways, or auditorium, or anything else. Carrie made her way down her driveway, and to her bus stop. Outside was foggy, and damp. Not her kind of weather. She stopped at the end of her street, her bus stop. She checked her watch: 7:00. She was ten minutes early, but at least that guaranteed she wouldn’t be late. She looked to her left and saw her neighbors house. She looked to her right and saw the familiar woods she saw everyday. The woods were beautiful, especially in fall with all the different colors. Often, she took walks, long walks that took her deep into the woods. With each trip she discovered something new. For instance, a baby squirrel, a family of deer, a dead animal, or even a new tree. She planned to talk a walk right after she came back from school. Just then she heard the rumble of the bus‘s engine, was it ten minutes already? She thought, she checked her watch: 7:11, wow, time flies. She walked to the door and up the steps. No one else was on the bus, she was the first stop. She chose the seats up front so she wouldn’t have to deal with all the pushing, and she would be the first one out. She looked to see who the bus driver was. It was a man, probably in his mid-forties, signs of gray hair, lots of wrinkles, short, and fat. The man kept on shooting her looks as if he thought she was up to something. She chose to ignore him and gazed out the window as seats were taken and chatter filled the room.

“Hey!” Carrie looked to her side to see her best friend Emma right beside her. “Emma!” They gave each other hugs. And chatted about their summer. They compared their schedules and saw that they didn’t have any classes together. So, they would be hanging a lot after school, and before they knew it they were at the High School. Classes came and went and finally it was lunch time. Carrie and Emma got a table with their other friends.

“So, do you like your teachers?” Carrie asked Emma.

“Well, their all pretty okay, but there is one teacher, Mr. Weisman, who just creeps me out,” she shuddered, “just the way he looks at me, its so weird.” Carrie was about to answer when she looked across the cafeteria to see Edmund staring right at her, an unwavering stare. Carrie shivered, even though it was warm.

“Hellooo! Carrie, are you listening?!” Emma waved her hand in front of Carrie’s face and in that instance where her hand passed her face, Edmund was gone. . . but still she shivered. Carrie got up and started walking to where she had seen him. “Carrie? Where are you going? Carrie!” Emma yelled after her. Carrie went to the table, looked under it, at the tables surrounding it, and down the hallway. He just disappeared. Carrie was confused, no one, is that fast, and no one ever just disappears. Just then Emma was at her side, and just as confused as Carrie was.

“What was that Carrie?” Emma hounded her. “Nothing, just thought. . . Nothing.” Carrie was freaked out, what if he was stalking her? That’s creepy, but it could be true. She thought. But, the fact that he just… disappeared, scared her.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

The Portland YAC has had a successful summer. We want to thank all of the student writers who generated some wonderful pieces and helped us have fun with our writing. We want to encourage you to keep writing. Share your ideas with others, read your pieces out loud, and play around with words and sentences. This blog can help you broadcast your pieces. Send along a whole piece or part of a piece to be uploaded. E-mail your writing to PortlandYAC@gmail.com You can participate at any time including the school year!

With that in mind here is a student submission. Thank you Michael.

There once was a Telling Room
It's about writing, I assume
There's Emily, Gibson, and Tim
and Dominic writing about someone getting torn limb from limb
Oh, the prospect of getting up in the morning does loom
- Michael

Friday, July 31, 2009

Today was an exciting day. We started with some writing where Tim gave us some words. The first word was syrup and we had to create a story. Every few minutes he would give us another word and we had to add it in. After our warm up we turned in our pieces for the anthology. It will be fun seeing all the writing in one place. Emily, Tim, Gibson, and a few volunteers helped us type once we picked the ones we wanted. At lunch Misha read her Hot Dog v. Nacho story to the hot dog man who has been talking to us all week. When we came back to the Telling Room we all had a chance to do a reading from our notebooks, make a magnet for the wall, and eat some of Emily's cupcakes.

Have a great summer.

Thursday, July 30, 2009

Today we did some reporting! We have been looking forward to this for the past few days especially after listening to Justin Ellis and Sarah Corbett. We planned our questions and then went out into Portland and asked random people about themselves. We came across this one guy, Harry, who told us all about where he worked and then he said he was retired! We found the Got Milk festival and got free smoothies, t-shirts, and our pictures with milk mustaches. I was with Molly and Elizabeth and it was so fun!

After our free milk we talked to a couple that didn't really want to talk to us. Then we went into Cool As A Moose with Rachel, Joe, and Maddy. They interviewed the cashier and Joe bought a cool sticker that he plans to put on his tackle box. Joe likes fishing.

When we got back to the Telling Room we continued to kid each other and laugh. We also took our notes from our reporting and created articles about the people we met. They sounded great. We also spent some time looking at all our writing from the week and thinking about what pieces we could put into the anthology.

Today was really fun.
Olivia