Saturday, March 13, 2010

Student Saturday

This Saturday's entry is a little different. From time to time I will be posting some of my student's writing.  They have asked for honest feedback.  All of them are sixth graders and wish to become professional writers.  I am thrilled to have them in my classroom for two hours a week where we share our writing and dreams.
 I am asking for feedback for this student.  She has written the beginning to a story or possibly a book.  She is a 6th grader and has asked for the following:
1.  Please give honest feedback.
2.  Please don't steal her material.

Shattered

There are three things I know for certain.  My name is Elizabeth. My mom hates me, and I am to blame for my father's death.

My memory of that day was fuzzy, seeing as I was only three.  My dad was humming in the kitchen making gumbo.  I was in the living room playing tea set with my mother's china.  My mother is what they call bipolar.  When she came in and saw me playing with her China she yelled a curse word so bad I couldn't even tell you what it was.  As she yelled I dropped a plat that shattered against the linoleum.  By the time she started to scream again my dad had scooped me up, covering me in the scent of light cologne and shrimp gumbo with all of the cajun fixings.  My dad yelled harshly, "She's a child Luanne.  No need to get nasty, calm down now."  My dad then cooler her off by going and giving her the biggest bear hug you can get.

Later that night as my daddy was tucking me in, LuAnne came in with a gun.  She shot my daddy in the head and screeched, "be calm my behind!"  When she called the police hysterical an hour later I thought she was confessing.  But what she was really doing was telling them that he committed suicide.  I was three so I could not tell them what really happened.  And now that I am older they say I could have made it up.  To this day I have hated myself for nine years, 10 months, and seventeen days.  There is only five days until my birthday.  Five more days and that will make me thirteen years old and ten years of hating myself.  If I had not been playing with LuAnne's china my dad would not have told her to calm down and LuAnne would not have shot him.  My life, my hope, my dreams, were shattered at three years old.  He was all I wanted and I took him away.

4 comments:

  1. Wow, interesting beginning - definitely grabs your attention!

    One question I would want answered in the next chapters is; if LuAnne was that volatile when Elizabeth was 3, what has kept her from seriously harming Elizabeth also? I would also like to see the part where the father is trying to calm the mother down stretched out a little more - see if you can give us more of an idea of his tone of voice, how he switches from defending Elizabeth to soothing her mother. Where is Elizabeth during the bear hug? How does it make her feel?

    You have a great start! I hope you will share the rest of it with us as you go on!

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  2. This item belonged to a 6th grade student I see for two hours on Wednesday in my after school creative writing class. She has been co-writing a novel with another student since the end of fifth grade. They have both decided that they need to work on their own things. The other little girls writings are all very dark. Her friend says there are home problems and this is how she deals with it. Not sure if that is good or bad.

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  3. Hello I am That 6th grade student.I have updated my story and may post it later...
    Thank-You for the suggestions!

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  4. Go gurl! Can't wait to hear the rest at school! (hint, hint)

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