"A HEN IN THE CHICKEN COOP"

 It was my senior year, twenty years ago. Yes the class of 1991! I done everything with them, I took my senior and cap and gown portraits, visited colleges and ordered class rings. The last time I saw them as a class was at our senior prom. I had no intentions of telling them. No way was I going to endure the judgment. I was not going to tell them that while they were mailing out graduation invitations, I would be mailing out baby shower invitations. I was pregnant with my first child. I had dreams and aspirations of going to college. They remained but the dream was not for me anymore, it was for my son. Everything I did from that point on was for him, his education and his future. My son graduated in 2010 and decided to attend Alabama A and M University. I remember pulling up to “The Hill”. The pride I felt, knowing that it was all worth it. Even though this was my dream, it was his life, his decision. After spending one semester there, he decided college was not for him, so he came home and got a job. I respected that, because in the end, it is all about being true to you; but let’s not forget that I worked eighteen years for this, somebody was going to college! So here I am, a thirty nine year old College Freshman! Sometimes I get tickled pink from excitement and disbelief, and then there are times that I’m wondering what in the world am I thinking. Those are times that I feel like an old hen in the chicken coop, sitting next to students my son’s exact age. They peck away on their computers sucking in all the new knowledge like a sponge. While I sit there feeling like the sponge someone left on the sink for weeks, all dried out and brittle. At times I have to rub up against one of my classmates to receive a little moisture. Then there are other times that it just flows right in like flooding waters. Will there ever be a balance, a swift wind over beach waters? Will there be a common denominator between dry and moist? Will there one day be a bridge between their fresh knowledge and my wisdom? Will we gravitate at the same rate? Will we be equals as we graduate; or will I resonate as a hen in the chicken coop?

"Writer or Writer Wannabe"

Writing was first introduced to me by my seventh grade English Teacher. She forced us to keep a poetry journal through out our entire seventh grade year. At the beginnig of the year we did not know the projects purpose or its effectiveness to our writting. When we received our final work we were able to see the dramatic improvement from the start of our project to the end. We learned that writing can also give you an avenue of communication. Using writing as a communication tool you can express yourself in so many ways and on a variety of different platforms. Since that time I have used writing almost everyday as an avenue to escape, express,and exploritory adventures. I use it as an escape from the madness of the real world into a world of true freedom of choice and speech. I  can release my innermost thoughts without fear or regret. I can also use it to express my true feelings in the form of poetry for my personal jornaling, to read publically or to give to others. I also give gifts of my writng in letters and on cards to friends and family. I am currently working on a series of children's books that allow me to explore the adventurous side of writng. As I go into the imaginary world and vividly potray my characters in their day to day activities. The ladder exhibits the answer to the question: How do you tell the difference between a writer and writer wannabe ? A writer wanna be writes to live; A writer lives to write, enhancing and educating oneself in the field as much as possible.

" Get to the Point "

I feel that the rule in "How to Write with Style" that will be most challenging to me is the one on rambling. In my conversation and my writing I usually tell every detail. I feel that what is relevant or irrelevant to some may not be to others. It is like hosting a dinner party and your guest are of different ethnicities. You want to be the hostess of the mostess and create a buffet that compliments everyones palate. The same is true in my writing. But it is a new day! I will create my menu with all the ingredients in Vonnegut's rules, invite all that will come and indulge in it's individuality and no more will I hear from friends and family, " get to the point."