Week 7

Ah! I'm late! Good heavens, that's bad news right there. Anyway...

As the semester has rolled forth I have grown increasingly short on time for reading so this last week was restricted basically to books assigned for class (non-fiction and historical fiction) and the Middle Grade novel I read to report on (The Giver). I discovered, shockingly, that there are people that have never actually read The Giver or [as I found today] A Wrinkle in Time. Now, I understand not everyone has the same taste in books but there really are just some works of literature that everyone should read, these being two of them.

It was very useful to me to re-read The Giver in the context of our Middle Grade unit because I had more of an idea what things I should look for in determining if/why a book is "good." I generally have a hard time identifying specific aspects that makes for good writing so this practice was very beneficial.

I am currently reading When We Were Friends by Elizabeth Joy Arnold which is much more general fiction than YA but I'm more aware as I read of the character developments, the voice that is present in the story. I should dabble more in YA to get my head in the right spot probably but it's a great feeling to see this other layer of writing, no matter what I'm reading.

To preface my personal writing segment, I've been running into trouble when it comes to putting myself into the mindset I would have been in when I first began venturing into YA literature. Mostly because I have a habitually awful and spotty memory but also because I've never considered myself a very interesting specimen, finding it much easier to relate the stories and adventures of those I associated with during those years. Below is the most interesting thing I could remember happening to me in high school. Yes, it depresses me too. lol

Personal Writing!

The one thing I really got out of high school was a highly, possibly even over-developed, sense of justice and fairness which proved out in my most vocal outbursts, usually on the behalf of others [whether they wanted it or not]. My only detention in my public education career occurred one day in my junior year of high school when the brand new choir director was subbing for the band teacher. About a quarter of the way through class, I was excused for insubordination when I commented on how harsh and nit-picky she was being about a piece we had never played before that day. In an odd way, this one event showed me that, if I so desired, I had the power to start things because after I was ceremoniously dismissed to the shocked whispers of my classmates who knew all too well that I never got yelled at, let alone sent to detention, I was joined in first the principal's office and then the detention room but two of my classmates who had apparently spoken up in my defense and to affirm what I'd been saying upon dismissal.