Theme Two: unpacking

Unpacking the Journal.

Well the story of writing the journal is filled with stress, let us not go there.
What do I wish had happened? I wish that when I started this course that my computer had been ready with out any problems. This is week three and I am still working on week two as well as week three. I wish that time would slow down, let me catch a breath. Just give me one really long day. I enjoy writing, though I feel I am being rushed and forced to write superficially, so that I can complete each assignment. Writing is an emotional process as well as cognitive. Creativity comes through emotions and time filled thoughts. Also because of the nature of this course, I feel that I am holding back. You talk about being naked in public and writing is a test of character, though the topics I wish to discuss are not just my stories to discuss. Though I am aching.
I have been keeping a journal for almost eleven years now. I think that I will delve into the story of how I became a writer.
I have always been a brainstorm kind of girl. I always have so many ideas and thoughts, and phrases that I want to use. I must break down the chaos and construct complete sentences. I have always been good at run on sentences, and have a chronic tendency to use semi colons, to make up for the run ons. I write the way the thought comes to me, though at least I am aware and try to correct it. Like I said, I have been keeping a journal for about eleven years, but there are great gaps between. There were times that I just grew tired of documenting my days, and repeating the dramatic, chaotic events again. My Journal was my closest friend; I could speak the truth, and figure out problems. There was no one to interrupt me, or criticize my opinion. I have always written from the emotional side.
When I was twelve, I was introduced to poetry on a new level. Mrs. Kellet's Language Arts. I adopted my first pen name that year, Scott Amber, inspired by S.E. Hinton. For seventh and most of eight grade, I attended a catholic school. Well, well! I was rebellious, independent, opinionated, and had no idea what I was getting into. Academically catholic school was good for me. Students in my class, including myself entered a poetry contest, and two, including myself, were accepted for publication. Anthology of young American, Forth edition.(page 127.) In eighth grade, we were asked to write a paper for All Catholic Schools Week. I being the opinionated non-conformist, wrote about how great our school was, with one hundred percent sarcasm. After a few parent/student/teacher conferences and a stack of pink slips (for stupid, trivial things) I was no longer a student at the school. Returning to public school just in time, as a freshmen I meet the most interesting and inspiring teacher, Mrs. Philbrook. She moved me, and taught me how to move my audience. She helped me find my voice and to use my eyes to write. I had my first creative witting class with her. I was also taught by, Sandford Phippen. I wrote some real off the wall, beyond left field papers for his class; but He loved them, though he was critical about my grammar. I still need to proof read aloud, several times. After graduating, I moved north and went to Northern Maine Community College. I took English Composition. I found myself to be in a class with a very closed minded, conservative instructor. She censored our topic range and made me re-write me papers. When I wrote what I though she wanted to hear, she loved it. Toward the end I was able to censor, as well as be open.
Now here I am. I have been trying to take creative writing for three semesters now. I am a bit discouraged that so far it has not been enjoyable, due to the over whelming stress of being behind. Not having a writing program that grammar checks, and hoping that the computer will stay in functioning mode.
Well I guess that was my unpacking of my journal. I don’t think that this is what you wanted. I don’t know where I went, when I wrote it.