Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Delving into Shade

Delving into Shade

Q: What is Shade's personality?
A: Shade is a sweet, innocent girl. Her view of life has been so twisted that she has switched into survival mode. She honestly thinks that she is ridding the world of evil, instead of being an instigator of it.
Q: Why does she listen to the voice in her head?
A: This is a mixed answer. Firstly, there is the obvious reason of the curse. It forces her to do anything she resists. However, she also relies on the voice for sanity. Though it too is dark and slippery, the sorcerer is manipulating his words to make them sound sweet.
Q:Why did the sorcerer pick Shade?
A: She was an easy target. Someone with enough fear and innocence to be controlled. She didn't have many mental defenses, so the sorcerer was able to sneak in quite easily.
Q: Why was Shade alone?
A: She is alone because she cannot see reality. She is so far lost inside of the curse, she has no way of seeing good in the world. Since being around other beings makes her see horrible, terrifying images, she gets as far away from everything as she can. This causes her to constantly be alone.


Do you have a question about Shade? Leave it a comment below!

Self Review

Personal Style and Growth

            Writing styles can often come to define a writer, and student writing lays out the habits and brickwork that help dictate that style. As a student, bad habits can be broken, and new goals can be set. For me, I have been able to identify some of my writing styles, as well as begin to fix some of the issues that I have. Common themes, tones, techniques, and processes that I use when writing come to light when looking back on written projects.
            The reoccurring theme that I find in much of what I write, no matter what genre, is freedom. Sometimes I write about freedom from a struggle, like in my memoir, Memoir of a 9th Grader, or my short story, Shade of the Sorcerer. In my poem Lonely Soul, the girl breaks free from the world’s view of perfection. The reason for this, I've discovered, is because I wish that I could be free of the rules of this world, such as gravity or wealth.
            The next most noticeable aspect in my writing is the tone. I often write using exaggerated anger, happiness, or comedy.  This tone can be heard in my poem Lost. In this haiku, I use metaphors to compare the current society’s view of beauty and lifestyle to wandering, ink, and twisted mirrors. In my Memoir of a 9th Grader, I exaggerate my story of going to a hard school. Back then, I felt like the world was ending. By exaggerating the reality, I was able to convey how the experience felt to me.
            To create the theme and tone, I use specific writing techniques. My most used technique is descriptive imagery words. I love words that paint a picture, and at times I can go a bit overboard with it. Another tool that I use is metaphors. Since metaphors can turn a moon from being just the moon in the night sky to “drop of silver in black velvet,” (Untitled Poem 3) I love using them, especially in my poems.  They help turn a description into a painting, and bring a story or scene to life.
            To write my stories, I use my own writing process. Once I come up with a topic, I will think up a loose idea of how I will organize everything. I don’t use outlines or graphs to lay out how I will write, as it can confuse my ideas. While I write, I also edit myself. I make sure that all my sentences and paragraphs make sense to me, and I make sure everything is spelled correctly. After finishing my draft, I have others read the essay to let them catch any mistakes I made and make sure it makes sense to them.
Though it usually works, I do have weaknesses when it comes to writing. In my head, I speak differently than I talk. However, I write the way that I think, and it can cause my sentences to be awkward. I also need to work on using dialogue. In Memoir of a 9th Grader, I wrote “’Bye mom,’ I gasped.” I couldn't rely on the dialogue itself to speak, and instead had to use the word “gasped” to capture the words. I often use dialogue sparsely, and it can come across as a bit out of place at times.
My biggest success throughout this course is learning how to use descriptions. I learned to condense my big sentences and specify to create the most effective image. I will continue to perfect my sentence structure and dialogue. I hope to be able to use dialogue with less difficulty, and able to see awkward sentences for myself. Eventually, I look forward to writing without losing the struggle to come up with details. I hope that I can write all of the stories I have piled up inside of me with more joy and less stress.
Though I have my own techniques and styles of writing, once I perfect my system, I can write uniquely, yet successfully. Through my personal themes, I can connect with the audience. The tones I use help me to convey the mood I want to get across. My favorite writing techniques help me give the words color. Using my personal take on a writing process allows me to let my creative juices flow. By using the techniques that work best for my writing, I can write smoothly and happily, and can turn out work that I am proud of.

Shade of the Sorcerer

Shade of the Sorcerer

Joy Bell


            Fury rocked her tiny frame curled in a corner, ready to follow the horrible orders that burned themselves inside her head. Her glassy eyes rolled around at the shadows creeping around her, pulling at the dejected hair that dangled behind her. She was known as Shade, a name whispered in fear in the bleak houses around her. Looking outside of herself, she saw nothing but the screams of a ground soaked in cold black blood. Her view of life was twisted. Anything beautiful screamed at her. Life dripped with charcoal and tar. Happiness ripped through her ears like a thousand needles. Anything good was trash in her eyes; hatred soaked debris that must be destroyed.
            The kingdom she tormented was torn. Babies wailed for want of a warm bed while their mothers desperately tried to spark a fire. Dust choked the air and the crops were crumbling in filth. Mist sludged its way around the corners and into the sad homes. Men with tears written under their eyes shuffled to their work, trying to dig a living in a dead land. Families whispered of the King, who sent failing heroes to save the people; perhaps one would at last succeed. Yet, every time, the Sorcerer of the East proved to be too evil for any of them, and each one fell. One year had dragged past since the day the Sorcerer sent a curse to be flung over the realm, blanketing it in sorrow and grime.
            Shade was the sorcerer’s puppet; she was held, locked inside his fist, just as chained as the land around her. She could hear his deeds thudding in her ear, twisting their way around until she carried out the will of her whispers. She was the wielder of punishment, annihilating anyone who stumbled in her way, anyone who smiled, anyone who tasted the air when she was there. She could only wait for the order to unleash her forced actions. Carved in her mind was the final result of this condemnation, the ultimate order. Her fingers itched to extinguish the king’s heart.
            She was no stranger to death. When she held a knife against a victim’s skin, she never felt a falter and she did not see the pleading in their eyes. Her shredded heart was cold to what she had to do, for she could not see that it was wrong. She did not feel the twisting pain, yet when their last gasp brushed past her, tingeing the air with a metallic edge, she felt no joy.
            Once, she broke the rules. When the order, destroy her, burned into her brain, she had stopped her blade for one moment. She paused for a curious moment. Fire rushed into her bones, and blocked her vision. She could feel the power of the command pulling her hand towards the beat of life pinned against the wall in front of her. For an instant, she longed to be by herself, where she could curl away from this frightening world. Before her thoughts could fully form, they melted and smeared away, lost to the magic. She never had respite from her exhaustion; her mind boiled to keep awake to hear the next murmur. So, she stayed rocking in her corner, waiting for the voice to come back and dictate.
           Now, my pet. The silky words caused her head to snap up. The King betrayed us, he must pay for it. He holds the evil that you see. The suffocating hate began to coil inside of her; she must end this loathsome nightmare in which she lived. Free the world from his horror with the power I will bestow upon you. At last, the order had come. She awaited her instructions with lifeless attention. Should you fail me, the gift will be turned against you. The mist around her condensed into the space before her and hardened into a flask. Inside, a liquid as green as her venomous eyes swirled. Take the elixir; it shall be the strength you use to end his life. It shall be your weapon.
            Her hand locked around the glass. Her gaze pierced towards the castle. Her feet compelled her. She could not feel the ground crumbling beneath her toes, nor could she feel the wind cut her cheek. The screams of the children muffled through her daze as they stumbled into their homes, calling for help at the sight of her. Candles were snuffed out, and mothers stared into the smoky darkness, praying to be spared.
            As she reached the gate to the castle, she tore her way through the weak defenses that presented themselves. Her raw fingers ripped the courtyard door open, and she found herself staring at the King himself. In her eyes, his eyes burned red and a pungent smell of death surrounded him. His cloak dripped with malice, and a cruel laugh rumbled around her. His obsessed fingers picked at a sword, simply waiting for her to come close. She felt sickness in the air, and she ached to end it. She had to kill this horrible creature before her.
            In truth, the King was dressed in worn, dusty clothing. He had a sorrow in his blue eyes that filled them with water. Shade’s intent was obvious from the twist of hatred in her eyes, and yet he looked at her without anger. His sword lay untouched by his side. He made no movement to save himself.
            “Perhaps,” he said, “perhaps my demise will save us all.” He lifted his head and met Shade’s eyes, which were boiling with disgust. “I only ask…spare my people, save this once glorious land.” His eyes became distant, as if in a dream. Shade raised the glass, the poison quivering inside, ready to throw it on her prey. A single tear slid down his cheek.

             Time stopped.

            She could see it. She could see that tear. It was warm, and full of love and sadness. She could see the world as it truly was reflected in the tiny bit of water. She felt a sound inside her, like a harp being plucked. She stared at the droplet, her mind a muddle of confusing thoughts, of orders, of hate. She felt the burn begin inside her bones again, pushing her arm to do its bidding. But she fought back. She stood, shaking, fearing. Memories of life flooded into her. A scream ripped inside of her head just as a song trembled deep in her heart. The tear slid and splashed on the floor, sending a delicate plink vibrating to her.

Suddenly, with a shock that almost broke her, she threw the jar at her feet. The glass rippled out, sending droplets of green spewing on her legs, sizzling into her skin. With a burst, light flew from her in all directions, burning the darkness in the land. As she felt the poison begin to crackle up her veins, shattering inside of her, she saw the world bright and stunning and real. With one gasp of air, she breathed in the sweet beauty of life, before she fell to the floor and a calm black took over. She was completely free.