BOOKER WRITERS

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SOUR AND SWEET

April 20th, 2011 by · No Comments · PERIOD 2

The candy’s smooth wrapper crinkles as I trace its edges with my fingertips, imagining its contents. The wrapper tears like a fine fabric, revealing a corner of dark chocolate. I break off a piece and take pleasure in its creamy essence. I have always had a sweet tooth, but it is not just sugary snacks that I crave. Being raised by a single parent has been a bittersweet experience, but one that has given me resilience and ambition.

When I was young, my mother would tell me that the racks of candy in the store’s checkout line belonged to the cashier. She said this not to confuse me, avoid spoiling me, or even to teach me a lesson about earning rewards, though she inevitably did. She said it because she didn’t want me to worry because she could not afford a 50-cent chocolate bar. Nevertheless, I saw through her tactic and made a promise to myself that I would grow up to be prosperous enough to buy my family all the Hersheys on the stand. [Read more →]

WORDS

April 20th, 2011 by · No Comments · PERIOD 1

In reflecting on the events of my life that have impacted me, I returned to the night of August 1, 2006. I found myself in Row G of Radio City Music Hall in New York City sitting by my mother, not at all tired, although we had flown from Las Vegas to Syracuse the day before, and my family had driven five hours to the city for “An Evening with Harry, Carrie and Garp,” a charity event with readings by three authors. The excitement rushing through me kept me awake and alert; I was standing and applauding a tiny blonde woman with amazing silver snake shoes as she prepared to read. [Read more →]

BEING BRAVE

April 20th, 2011 by · No Comments · ESSAY 1 PD 1

It all started as an excuse to avoid physical education. I scampered around my high school on the first day of 11th grade searching for my golf coach, Mr. Delgrego, for he had a solution to almost anything. As I approached him and asked for an exemption, he quickly offered a plea bargain of sorts; in order for me to skip out on gym for the first semester, I would help him coach the Unified Soccer team. Being an impulsive 15 year old, with an underdeveloped frontal lobe and an overdeveloped habit of seeking immediate gratification, I accepted and then asked him, “Where is my signing bonus?” He smirked and replied; “I will see you tomorrow.” [Read more →]

BEING THIN

April 20th, 2011 by · No Comments · ESSAY 1 PD 1

I can only remember being thinonce in my life – at age six. To be honest, I only “remember” becauseI’ve seen pictures. Never in my life have I felt proud of my body, but throughoutelementary school it never mattered that I was big. I had the cutest boys asboyfriends despite the fact that I wore a junior size nine in the fifth grade andweighed 105 pounds. In those days, the boys didn’t have sex on their minds andstill appreciated personalities.

My situation didn’t change much inmiddle school. Although I no longer was the one they wanted as a girlfriend, boysstill liked me, and I was friends with almost everyone. High school changedeverything, except my self-perception. Popular culture, expectations in my danceclasses, and especially social situations continued to put pressure on me tochange my body – to be thin. [Read more →]

UNTITLED

April 20th, 2011 by · No Comments · CREATIVE WRITING 1 PD 1

You don’t believe in magic, do you?  In spells, or wishes or dreams that come true, nor did I once.

Just a normal Monday morning.
“Morning…..sucker,” one of the boys whispered as he passed me on his way to the back of the school bus. The boy behind him grabbed my school bag and continued to the back dropping the contents as he went. The two made themselves comfortable on the back seat, giggling and whispering about something as they waited for re-enforcements to join them.  The contents of my bag rolled around on the dusty floor.  Other children looked on, their feet quickly dodged any object that rolled towards them, no one was ever brave enough to help. I scrabbled on my hands and knees trying to retrieve my belongings as the bus twisted and rocked its way along the country roads.
At the next stop ‘Billy the Brave’ or Bully Bullshit as I preferred to think of him got on the bus, with the rest of his gang and the full assault would start. [Read more →]

UNTITLED

April 20th, 2011 by · No Comments · CREATIVE WRITING 1 PD 1

When the river burst its banks they made everyone move from the estate to the school at the top of the hill. The gym was much as I remembered it from PE classes. The roof used to leak sixteen years ago and it was still leaking that day. The air retained a faint sniff of vomit and disinfectant.
Children played on foam mats to one side, supervised by two young women, alike enough to be sisters. The other adults sat at the other end in a circle on plastic chairs with a radio at the centre. Family groups of suitcases and knotted bin bags lined the edges. I stayed out of the way by the hot pipes in the corner, trying to dry off my jeans. I thought I remembered sitting there like this once before. [Read more →]