Madison White – Literary Arts Blogspace

I Have Called You By Name

At the beginning of last month, Wednesday March 2 was National Read Across America Day and our literary class went outside to read for the entirety of fourth block. We all grabbed our books and spread out across the main lawn of our school campus. Some of us laid out on the dry, cool grass and some of us sat on the smooth, chill concrete sidewalk. Embracing the sunlight or the cool shade of a tree, we all got comfy to begin reading. The book I brought to read (and that I’m still reading) is called I Have Called You By Name by Jerry B. Jenkins. (I also read Tactics by Gregory Koukl, which is a very good book as well, but its not what I will be focusing on today.)

I Have Called You By Name is the novel version of the first season of the show The Chosen. This show, just to let you know, is a totally crowd-funded multi-season TV series that has its very own app (working with Angel Studios ). The show is completely free to it’s viewers due to other people’s contributions. Being fully crowd-funded, it also has absolutely no ads and is only streamed on The Chosen app, which you can get on your device or on your smart TV.

the first book is a written form of the first episode, along with the beginning of the book including the written form of the Shepard, which is a short episode that Dallas Jenkins (the front man and creator and scriptwriter for The Chosen) created for his church’s Christmas show on his friends farm. This episode is what inspired the entirety of The Chosen.

After the book tells Jesus’s birth story, it jumps to tell a piece of Mary Magdala’s story; her childhood and her father reminding her the words of Isaiah 43:1 “… fear not, for i have redeemed you: i have called you by name, your are mine. Then the book goes to show us her as an adult, struggling with the consequences of her being possessed by demons. The next section tells us about the Pharisee Nicodemus being stopped on the road by the praetor of Capernaum, Quintus. they talk of who they serve and mention unpaid taxes, a tense conversation that ends with Quintus making a confusing fish analogy.

the story moves on to introduce us to Matthew, a Jewish tax collector who is methodically getting ready to go to work. then next few chapters bounce between Matthew’s experience as a hated Jew and Nicodemus experience of being a praised rabbi that is told to go help the Romains.

after that, we get to see a fistfight. the fisherman brothers, Simon and Andrew — with Simon in the center of the group of men, fighting one of his wife’s brothers Jehoshaphat. just as Simon is about to win, Jehoshaphat’s brother Abrahim beats Simon and truly wins the fight.

chapbooks

Chapbooks, by definition, are small paperback booklets that typically contain works of poems or fiction. For our class, our personal Chapbooks had to have a minimum of twenty poems (max of twenty-five), a bio and dedication, title page, and a table of contents (that includes numbering the pages). The amount of work in a chapbook is not always twenty to twenty-five, that was just the requirement for our class. Chapbooks are supposed to have a theme, or poetic narrative, throughout the entire book. The process for picking this poetic narrative varies from person to person, but there are a few standard ways to find it.

One way is to gather work that consistently makes you feel a certain way, and create a theme off of that feeling. Another approach might be to simply pick a theme and stick with it; then you watch as the theme gets shifted through and refined as you select or cull which pieces fit it. Going off of the first option, you might spread all of the work that you are considering for the chapbook out in front of you and order or stack the pieces by what ever methods you want. You could see which stack has the most work and go with what theme is present.

After you have picked the pieces you wish to put in the chapbook, you have to decide what order you want the work to be read in. This will be your poetic narrative. When doing this part of the chapbook process, it’s helpful to think of how the pieces feel, and what feeling you would like you readers to end with.

Some ways to decide the order is to put it chronologically, following the date of when each piece was written or following the date of when the piece’s topic happened. Anther way to order your chapbook would be with the poetic narrative in mind. This way will take you readers on a journey through the pieces, so you have to keep in mind what you want your readers to feel as they travel through the beginning, middle, and end of your chapbook. What feeling do you want to leave them with once they get done reading?

Moving past the content of the chapbook, we come to its presentation. Would your chat be digital, printed, or both? Which ever format you decide, the presentation also includes fonts, font sizes, colors, formatting the pieces/pieces’ titles on the page, designing the cover/title page, filling out the table of contents, adding pictures (if your want to include them), and the overall colors, consistency, and binding of your chapbook.

Chapbooks can be full of your own persona work or you could collaborate with friends to make a chapbook that includes a mixture of authors. The process for creating chapbooks can seem extensive sometimes, but if you fully commit and follow the steps then this experience is bound to make something you will be proud of. Have fun creating!

Persona Poetry

Persona, said in context of the writing world, is when a writer writes in first person perspective with the “I” of the poem being an object, an idea, or another person. The “I” – also called the narrator – of this style of poetry can NOT be the writer themselves. That is what makes this type of writing unique and most certainly impactful. Poets can dive in and use the (distanced from themselves) perspectives of objects, ideas, or other people to convey powerful messages, call outs, and show beautiful new ways of thinking.

Below are a few examples of persona poetry being performed, and through these performances we can hear how powerful a poem can become when spoken aloud. These Speakers embody their chosen poems, bringing them to life and expressing them wonderfully.

Trying my own hand at Persona poetry, I ended up with a collection that I call Breakthrough Persona. Wanting to follow the instructions of not bluntly telling what the narrator is, I decided to alluded to or hint at what my subjects where in their titles. Below are three poems from my collection Breakthrough Persona: stands of mental health, keeper of fiction that’s painfully true, and aspects of titles.

strands of mental health  


What happens after? 
What happens after the good days disappear 
and the bad are all you are allowed to wake up to?
When your feelings are fleeting 
and you get stuck in those in between moments, those transitions — 
what happens then? 
See, clothes cost money; you don't like pain; 
you refuse the drugs, the alcohol, the addictions —
you know those are more damaging, more altering,
than what you want to deal with.
Still, you chase to make a dramatic difference.
To find some reminiscences of control. 
So you find scissors. 
You know I'll grow back. 
Nothing permanent, but it feels drastic all the same. 
You grip me tight and pull me out in chunks —
you cut me off in ragged pieces,
stripping me of my color, my life, my health 
so as to change me to a shade, a style of your liking. 
Truly, what do you think of me?
Do you find my flatness borish or my curls a nuisance?
Do my split-ends and frizziness drive you mad?
They shouldn't, for these are the result of improper care —
I was not treated as treasure for what was natural, but scorned. 
You get angry at pieces of me that are of your own making,
for you did not take time to learn my ways nor 
did you take time to learn how to care for me.
Only time and gentle attention will fix this unruly, tangled, damaged mess 
that you have made of me. 

Simply learn my ways;
treat me in the right regard —
then I will follow.

keeper of fiction that’s painfully true.  


I am stained 
with tears as ink, 
with the essence of your being; 
your thoughts, your hates, and your desires.

You scratch me 
with words of graphite, 
with the shade of your mind; 
your wonders, your fears, and your wishes. 

So why do you tear me up into shredded little pieces of emotions and crumble me into a simple piece of trash — one that you don’t even think to pick up after you have thrown me towards the dumpster and missed —

why have you dismissed me so?

I am covered
with truths as fiction,
with a piece of your life;
your pasts, your presents, and your futures.

You line me 
with hordes of symbolism,
with a sliver of your sight;
Your perspectives, your actions, and your dialogues. 

So why do you fold me up into tiny squares of pretendence and hide me in the creased lining of notebooks — ones that you don’t ever think to open after you have stacked notebook upon notebook on what you want forgotten — 

why have you abandoned me so?

aspects of titles 


You get called a lot of things growing up. 
I might have been a nickname, a compliment, or an insult. 
I might have been a pet name, a label, or an evaluation.
I might be reserved for one person.
I might be reserved for many. 
When you were little, I was “curious”, “Momma’s girl”, and “mature”.
Now that you are older, I am “intelligent”, “independent”, and “childish”. 

I change as you grow and develop — 
new sides of yourself allow for others
to come up with more of me. 
So don’t be afraid, 
when I am changed on the whims of others; 
embrace me, take the new versions of me that you want, and disregard the others — 
for half of what they call you is made of their opinion, and the rest is what you decide I am.

So that’s what i have on Persona Poetry! Hope you liked reading my blog about this topic, and maybe it will inspire you to try persona poetry out for yourself!

Literature Review – Dirt

‘Dirt’ by the Collection (Official Music Video)

In this song, Dirt by The Collection, multiple biblical figures are named and their stories are hinted at. Well after I heard this song it inspired me to look deeper these people’s stories – and what I found is only the surface.

Abraham was scared to die, forsook his wife within the lie
Think I know the reasons why; cause he was made of dirt.

These two lines are talking about Abram (whose name was changed to Abraham) when he and his wife doubted that God would fulfill his promise to make their descendants as numerous as the star because of their old age. They decided to make the promise come true themselves in own way (through Sarah’s servant) instead of waiting for God’s timing. Chapters 15 – 18 and 21 in Genesis.

And Joseph's coat was full of pride, the blood of goats won't wash you white If I was his brother, I'd have lied, and left him in the dirt

These two lines are talking about when Joseph’s brothers (who were jealous that Joseph was spoiled) trapped him in a hole, sold him to slave traders, and convinced their dad that Joseph had been killed by wolves by tearing up Joseph’s special coat and smearing it in goat blood.

And Moses never entered in to land he thought was promised him
He took his people 'round again, to pick manna from the dirt.

These two lines are hinting at the time that Moses used God’s power without God’s command to do so (he split a rock open and made water come from it) when giving a lesson to the Israelites. They had forgotten what God had saved them from and became ungrateful, so God told them they weren’t allowed to enter the promised land yet and that they had to roam the desert for 40 more years.

And Solomon became so wise, with many wives and concubines
He fell for every single lie, yeah, his head was full of dirt.

These two lines are talking about how Solomon had many women in his life who did not follow God and how Solomon allowed them to influence him and his way of ruling. Solomon allowed sinful things to happen in his kingdom because of his wives’ influences.

And David's where I got my name, abusing power, abusing fame,
He stole a girl, her husband slain, left six feet in the dirt.

These lines talk about when King David spied on a woman (while she was bathing) and then about how he used his status as king to send the woman’s husband to get killed in the frontlines of the war they were in. After the woman’s husband was dead, David took her to be his wife.

And Peter fell to his own shame, denied his love, denied his name, He ran away, when the people came, to nail him to the dirt.

This part of the song is talking about when the Disciple Peter denied that he knew Jesus three times before a roster could crow twice. This was on the morning of Jesus being taken to be crucified, after Peter had been told he would do exactly what is described above – this is also after peter had promised that he wouldn’t deny that he knew Jesus.

And Samson only thought it fair, to let the witch come cut his hair And look through eyes no longer there as he crushed them in the dirt.

Here the song is describing the moment that Samson told his philistine wife what the source of his incredible strength was. Once he was asleep, his wife cut his hair and the Philistines were able to capture him – the philistines also plucked out Samson’s eyes. Later when the all the philistines had gathered for a celebration (where they had Samson chained to the temple walls, on display for all to see that the philistines had won), Samson asked the severest to place his hands on the temple pillars and he asked God to give him the straight to kill the philistines. Then, with God’s strength, Samson destroyed the temple and killed all the philistines and himself in the rubble.

And Paul would sit upon his throne and kill us with the biggest stones And wrestle with the thorn unknown, a thorn up from the dirt.

These lines are hinting to the apostle Paul, who watched the false prophet Stephen get stoned to death, right before Paul started traveling to spread God’s message. Paul taught mostly to the Romans and the other people who lived there, and he was basically the spiritual leader for that time, era, and place.

But if the nations had a father, Joseph would redeem his brothers. Moses held the waters up, and David would become your love. Solomon would build the temple, Samson came to destroy evil, Peter soon became the rock and Paul would lead the roman flock

The next couple lines of lyrics can be stated as this: Abraham became the Father of Nations , Joseph forgave his brothers, Moses held up the waters, Solomon built the temple, David was still beloved, Peter became a strong foundation, Samson destroyed the Philistines, and Paul taught in front of Romans.

And it's all that I can do to keep my eyes off You,
And it's all that You can do to keep me, keep me, keep me ne

All that I can see is that You can't see the dirt in me
All that I can see is that You can't see the dirt in me
All that I can see is that You can't see the dirt in me
And all that I can see is You.

And with these last repeating lines of the song, I will tell you this: even after all that these men did and after all that happened to them, God still kept his promises. God still delivered them. Doesn’t matter what people do, act, say, believe, God can use people for his glory. Even if they don’t know that he used them. God uses messed up and broken people to do his good works. Doesn’t matter what we think. God is sovereign.

Beware The Men in Trench Coats

Mister oh mister won't you come and play?
Please oh please - it’s such a pleasant day.
I cast off my name and you cast off yours.
Then we call for each other and we live here no more.

A child gently dances down an elegant hallway, quietly singing and humming to themselves. They hold their stuffed animal in front of them, dangling it in the air, both of them dancing to the nursery rhyme. The fox’s fur is faded, it’s head flopping as they dance, as the stuffing in his neck and middle are flat from being hugged and held.

As tense as a deer the child freezes, jerking their head to stare at the back of the only door in the hallway. The clicking sound of a key turning seems to echo through the hall. The old silver handle starts to open but pauses, the voices inside barely slipping through the pause.

As frantic as a rabbit, the child runs to the nearest portrait, one of a small girl in a light blue and white ruffled dress. In a silent, rushed but practiced motion, the child shoves their toy fox into their mouth and reaches up on their tiptoes to pull the portrait girl’s long, light blue hair ribbon. A small click to be heard as something from behind the picture swooshes open. The child steps on the rim of a fern plant’s pot to jump and grab the top of the picture frame, swinging themselves into the canvas and disappearing into the wall.

The child quickly moves to slide the small hidden door close, halting to leave a small gap of light shining into the dark space inside the walls. The child peeps out to see a tall, heavy set, wide built man silently dart in and out of the forbidden room - doing so much faster than seemed possible for a man of his stature. The man stepped close to the door and shoved an incredibly large worn wooden key into the incredibly small silver key hole with an almost violent twist.

The house held its breath. The man released his. With clam, gentle movements the man purposely removed the key. Glancing up and down the hall for reassurance that he was alone, the man raised the large key to his face. The man’s jaw twitched as he leaned his head back. He opened his mouth, his lips parting beyond, all the way to his ears. Saliva, dripping off of his tentacle-like tongues and knife-sharp jagged teeth. The man lifted the key above his head. His tongues slipped over the key like snakes. As soon as the man let go of the key it jerked into his mouth, his head whipping closed back to looking normal. The man rolled out his shoulders before fixing his coat and leaving the hall with a brisk pace.

So, I was a Junoir helper for Literary Seniors Morgan Love‘s and Kaite Spiers‘s Senior Showcase this past Monday. A good bit of their wonderful writing was Surrealism. My little sisters have also been watching shows that tend to put things past the point of normal. I also watched the movie, Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children, recently I think it has affected my writing. What I have written above is an experiment. So hope ya’ll like it.

A Letter to a Wonderer

To Whomever Wishes To Go See What Lives In the Mountains And the Forests.

An old house. A father in his study, a mother off traveling, a girl left to roam the family’s woods. That’s what’s in the Mountains. That’s one of the things that find you in the Woods. Trees as old and as dangerous as the Mountains they cover. Beautiful Woods. Ancient Woods. Woods of Betrayal.
I call them Woods but they are Forests, said to have been growing since the beginning of time. They house strange beats, odd wonderlands, and those that want to hide. Those woods are said to hold the secrets of the universe written in their bark. It is said that their roots reach to the center of the earth’s heart. If you get lost in those woods just adapt, for you have no hope of coming out alive. But if you are careful - if you are cautious - if you bring gifts to the Spirits of Forests, then you might be able to escape only slightly crazed and dazed, but you will quite certainly be amazed.
You still want to go? You still want to try? If you are that dead set then these I would sincerely suggest you go find.

Go find the girl who talks. Keep in mind, she won't say a word. But she can tell you secrets about that world.

Go find the hole in the house, sat beneath an oak tree. After you find it, you’ll need a new key.

Go find a bird of sunset, who has yet to fly. If you answer just right you can ask for a guide.

Go find the writer and ask for his stories. They’ll tell you what to find and where to wander without worries.

Go find the artist who captures memories. Search through her collection but do not give her yours.

Go find the twilight but wait until after the morning. This is important. If you don’t then you’ll never see the dawn.

These are just the first - they’re as far as I got. If you go any farther then I suggest you keep watch. The things in that forest are not as they seem - for the sweet will be mean and the mean will just scream. If you find a small thing, avoid at all costs. If you happen upon a big just act like you're lost. If you see a young tree then you better help it sprout, but beware the old oaks and what hang about.
I know this is cryptic, but it's the best I’ve still got. If you wait just an hour then you’ll get a head start.

Traveler I beg you - trust this Old Man. For I have seen things you will never understand.

This is a letter about a forest in another world. This is a letter written to those who like to wander. This is a warning. It hints at ways to survive a magical forest that tends to be just outside of normal in terrifying ways. This letter is written by someone who has braved those woods, came out fast enough to keep his good sense, and continued to live to tell his stories. Others don’t come out so lucky, and most just don’t come out at all.

Big Brother, Big Brother – Big Brother Death.

Big Brother, Big Brother - Big Brother Death,
have you met the puppy who has three heads? 

Big Brother, Big Brother - Big Brother Death,
have you seen Persephone and all her flowerbeds? 

Big Brother, Big Brother - Big Brother Death, 
did Hades ever tell you ‘don’t speak to the dead’?

Big Brother, Big Brother - Your hands are so cold. 
Could you say ‘I love you’ like she used to do?

Big Brother, Big Brother - Where do you go?
When hades says to leave and I can’t go?

Big Brother, Big Brother -Do you know my name?
‘I have forgotten’ as you like to say. 

Big Brother, Big Brother - What is growth?
Persephone says it’s odd that you do not grow 

Big Brother, Big Brother - You’re called death
You call me ‘little girl’ or ‘sweet Beth’ 

Big Brother, Big Brother - Would you reap my soul? 
Hades says it’s gonna happen once I’m old

Big Brother, Big Brother - You’re finally home!
You brought strangers, but not a soul? 

Big Brother, Big Brother - Who are these men?
Their loud and mean and they don’t like bread.

Big Brother, Big Brother - Why so sad?
Are these big, fat gods just here to make you mad?

Big Brother, Big Brother -What do you dearly hold?
You grabbed me close and you won’t let go.

Big Brother, Big Brother - Are those tears? 
And your hugging so tight like I’ll disappear.

Big Brother, Big Brother - What do they want?
The tension is rising, The rope’s pulled taut.

Big Brother, Big Brother - The story’s not done, 
so why are you acting like Fates been spun? 

Big Brother, Big Brother - Big brother Death. 
Why are you locked away? Like an animal with debt? 

Big Brother, Big Brother - Big brother Death.
Hades said he’ll keep me, till you’ve paid your debt. 

Big Brother, Big Brother - Death, fight back! 
Why won’t you ever overcome what you lack? 

Big Brother, Big Brother - I want to see you.
But the lighting strikes me every time I do.

Big Brother, Big Brother - I want to see you.
But the man with a trident stops me with blue. 

Big Brother, Big Brother - I want to see you
I want you to hold me like you used to do

Big Brother, Big Brother - I feel so cold.
Will I finally be what you’re able to hold

Big Brother, Big Brother - Big brother Death.
I loved when you called me your little Beth.

Big Brother, Big Brother - Big brother Death.
It seems I won’t see you, before my last breath

Hey, Big brother, Big brother Death. 
I want to thank you, 
For calling me Beth.

This poem is a continuation of my The Grim Reaper post, and it continues the story from her viewpoint. This poem is meant to be read sort of as a nursery rhyme, with a bit of the tune Baba Black Sheep mixed with the sing-song ramblings of a curious child.

But this poem starts after Death has brought her to the Underworld – since she is a child she began exploring everything she was allowed to. (after she got over her fear of all the fire and brimstone of course.) The poem then goes into her becoming more comfortable in her new life before Zeus and Pesiden hear rumors that Death had taken a living child from the surface world to the underworld and was raising her.

From there, it goes through her struggles of separation from Death – for this is when he is confined and basically ‘enslaved’ to Hades as punishment. The poem ends just before Death is allowed out of his prison, and he is forced to watch from afar as his ‘little Beth’ takes her last breathe. Then he reaps her soul.

Hope ya’ll enjoyed!

So i’m a lizard…

so im a lizard. seems like on odd title. but it’ll make sense as we go.

I’m the head of the D&D club here at MSA. for those who don’t know what D&D is, it stands for Dungeons and Dragons, and it is an IRL role-playing game.

D&D is a game where you get to take your imagination to the next level. there are varying degrees of how you might play the game depending on how dedicated you are and/or how long you’ve been playing. But the first step to playing this game is creating your character.

so for those who are new to the game, creating a character can seem like a daunting task. there are so many choices! but I’ll walk you through ( and hopefully simplify) the process just a little bit.

so the first step is choosing a Race. you could be a human, a giant, a satyr, or a rat! You could even create a new race if you wanted to. But in most cases, there are your standard choices: Dragonborn, Dwarfs, Elfs, Half-Elfs, Half-Orcs, Humans, Halflings, Tiefling, Gnomes, Goliath, Genasi, Aarakocra, and Aasimar. And there are tons of other races out there, and tons more you could create! which brings me to my title – my newest character is a lizard!

the second step is Class (basically your job/whatever your good at.) and for this, there is a list:

Barbarian
Bard
Cleric
Druid
Fighter
Monk
Paladin
Ranger
Rogue
Sorcerer
Warlock
Wizard

these classes are basically choosing how you fight. Barbarians are known for rushing into battles and going on a rampage. Rogues are known for being skilled thieves or assassins, and Bards are known for ‘enchanting’ people wherever they go (whether with magic or other means we will never know.)

Each class has its own strengths too; like Monks, who get bonuses for dexterity and wisdom, or Druids, who get bonuses for wisdom and intelligence. And once you get your level or XP high enough, you can multiclass! then you can combine different classes and have more spells or abilities.

then you get to chose your ability scores. these are your Strength, Dexterity, Constitution, Intelligence, Wisdom, and Charisma. Strength is pretty straight forward, so I won’t explain that one, but I’ll give a little more insight on the others.

Dexterity is basically how good you are at climbing, jumping, sneaking, hiding, running, etc. I relate Constitution to saving throws (when your death was pretty much certain, but you still get to roll to see if you survive) and Charisma is jokingly thought of as the bard’s highest stat, but it’s chalked up to how good looking and persuasive your character can be.

Intelligence and Wisdom are very similar to me, but I looked up some phrases and stuff to try to clarify which is which.

Intelligence is knowing Frankenstein wasn't the monster. 
Wisdom is knowing Frankenstein WAS the monster.

Intelligence determines how well your character learns and reasons.
Wisdom describes a character’s willpower, common sense, perception, and intuition.

And I found this one to try to describe all of the stats.

Strength is being able to crush a tomato.
Dexterity is being able to dodge a tomato. 
Constitution is being able to eat a bad tomato. 
Intelligence is knowing a tomato is a fruit. 
Wisdom is knowing not to put a tomato in a fruit salad. 
Charisma is being able to sell a tomato based fruit salad.

And once you are done dealing with those 3 things, you finally get to design your character!!! this step is when you gave your character their name and appearance, along with their background, lifestyle, beliefs, and how they interact with others. this is the step where you get to flesh out your character’s personality, looks, and friends and family.

the final step is assigning equipment and/or gold. On websites like DnD Beyond, they usually have to option of starter equipment and such, so this part isn’t so much of a hassle.

But those are mostly the basics! hope this will make your journey to create a character I lot easier – remember you can be as creative as you’d like! you could even be a lizard. (btw my lizard’s name is Eek Ard!)

happy playing!

Influenced by Others

Abstract Anxiety by Madison White

There were um, lights - different circles of red, white, purple, orange - 
filling non distinctive shapes. 

Then it shows you brushing through 
blurry grass;
your under someone’s feet
as feelings swell;
your rushing through clovers as the music 
builds 
your anticipation to nothing. 

There were plenty of light taps against 
metal,
mixed with the clattering of multiple cutoff 
sounds.
Multiple deep thumps like splashes underwater
Whooshes
thundering in your ears, almost like a train.
Sounds 
of grain being piled. The loud buildup clearly ended 
into a calm noise of a rice filled shaker.

This poem was written after watching Otavia – Abstract video art, which was posted on youtube by Anat Gutberg on April 2, 2016. You could go and watch it if you want to. (Other junior literary students have already seen it, but the link is above if you want to watch it again.)

I wrote that poem as an attempt to replicate the sounds and images from the video. Abstract Anxiety is a free verse poem – I basically wrote my train of thought after watching Otavia.

A Small Child by Madison White 

Laying in your 
lap

A small 
child 

Wrapped in a 
blanket 

Their hand tight on your 
thumb

This poem, A Small Child, was also an imitation. The goal was to copy the format, or the stanzas, of The Red Wheelbarrow by William Carlos Williams.

The Red Wheelbarrow by William Carlos Williams.

so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens

So I’m gonna end this post by saying this: using mentor texts is a really good way to experiment with your own writing style. Imitating a certain characteristic that you like of another author’s work is an easy way to expand your abilities and try something new. And you don’t have to imitate the same thing every time; you could imitate the topic, the tone, the message, the format, the word count, the line count – you can pick whatever you want to imitate!

Everybody has different strengths, and imitating others’ work is a great way to grow – and that applies to most everything! But don’t forget that even if imitating is a very helpful process, you still need to get creative and come up with your own!

Chapter 3: Familiar

This is the next chapter following Chapter 2: a Raven. BTW, these chapters are NOT in chronological order. They are just in the order that I come up with them.

Hope yall enjoy!!!

Chapter 3 - Familiar

I watched from the rafters of our newly built cottage as my Mistress worked on one of her new recipes. The potion was for Ms. Harrget's knees so that they wouldn’t hurt as badly. That was what I had been told when I asked why I had to go collect herbs from the muddy side of the creek. Mistress knows I hate getting dirty. But I get muddy when the Mistress needs me to. Only when she needs me to.

Mistress's Hatchling played close to her feet, pulling on her dress every now and then for no reason. I still wasn't sure if I liked him. He would throw his tiny wooden soldiers at me sometimes. Or pluck out my feathers. And throw his food at me. But Mistress had shown concern for her hatchling because he made no noise. Whenever something was wrong, he would just throw stuff or bang on things, but no sound would pass from his lips.

That didn’t stop Hatchling from wanting to do everything with Mistress. And if Mistress had something to do in the village, she would call me over, place me in front of Hatchling, and run out the room. Then Hatchling would grab me as if I was one of his stuffed toys. He wouldn’t let go until she returned. It was odd.

But today Mistress’s Mister came home! And I get to ride on his shoulder and sleep in his lap when he gets home. Sometimes, he even takes me hunting. He taught me to fly through the woods, and when I see a small rabbit or squirrel or something, I either dive and bring it to him or I fly back to Mister and show him where it lives. It is very fun! Then we go home and then we all get to eat yummy stuff!

I turned into a boy today! Mistress said I did well - it only took me 2 days of trying! And she gave me a name - Ki. She said it means strong. But I am a weak crow, I don't have strength like Mister. So I'm a little confused with my name, but Mistress gave it to me, so it’s a good name.

It's Hatchling's birthday today. He is turning 3. Mistress said I was to stay as a boy while Mister’s sister, (i was told to call her Aunt?) stays with us for a month. Clothes are difficult. But if Hatchling can wear them, so will I!

Aunt said she came all the way from the capital - she even brought gifts for all of us! I got a toy soldier. I don’t know where “the capital” is but Aunt says it is a very fine place with shops and crowds and markets and royalty. But Aunt had to explain what those things were, and then she got onto Mister for not teaching his children right.

Mistress says we have to move today. Mister and I loaded the cart with food and things. They said we’re moving to the cliffs, and I got permission to fly ahead and be on the lookout! If I see anyone on the road, I fly back and tell Mister so he has time to hide the wagon. I’m not sure why they want to avoid other people, but it’s fun getting to fly so much!

Our new house has a secret hole in the back wall - and Mister and I got to explore them today! We wandered around for a long time and I didn't realize how many trips it would take to map them all out. The tunnels and caves were actually a huge network leading all over the place. Eventually, once I was old enough, Mister would take me with him to the different towns we could access for supplies and stuff. That was when I got my first taste of humans shopping in crowds. It was chaotic. And smelly. And I got lost multiple times. But mister was always able to find me. Then we’d travel back through the tunnels-making sure no one followed us of course.

But this time it was different. I was in crow form, sitting on Mister’s shoulder when some guards of the town started attacking Mister for no reason! I managed to claw one guy's face off and take out his eye, but one of the other guards got hold of me. Mister was beating most of them, as he was a very strong fist fighter and swordsman, but once he realized I was trapped he barreled into my capturer, knocking 2 guards and himself to the ground. After that, it was a flurry of arms and hands as the guards grabbed Mister’s hands and held them behind his back. I managed to fly out of their reach and I circled above their heads, knowing there was much else I could do.

I watched as they dragged Mister down to the jails of the building with banners I had been told to avoid - a black flag with a witch-burning sewn on in red. And I knew I had to tell Misstress what had happened.

The Order of the Ravens had captured Mister. And no one stays sane after being caught by the Ravens.