Storytelling, Week 10: The Slap-Fish Pregnancy

 

(siblings) 

Michael snuggled up next to his father on the leather sofa, his eyes glued to their television screen.

“Scoot over, Michael!” His little sister Olivia groaned. She had her head on their father’s lap as well, and Michael’s hand was now covering her view of the movie.

“You scoot over!” Michael flung his teddy bear toward his sister’s face before his father snatched it out of his hand. “Hey!”

“Both of you, hush,” their father said. “Watch the movie.”

The children turned their heads reluctantly back to the screen, where a cartoon woman with yellow hair rubbed her round belly affectionately.

“I can’t wait to meet my little sister!” The cartoon boy squeaked. “I’m gonna teach her how to play baseball, and she can do my chores, and…”

The cartoon rambled on as Olivia squinted up at her father. “Is there really a baby in her belly?”

He ran a hand through his graying hair and chuckled. “Yep. You and Michael were once in Mommy’s tummy, too.”

“Really?” she asked. “I wish I remembered what it looked like in there…I would take all the spaghetti she ate and swirl it around—I could go swimming in Jell-O!”

Their father laughed. “That’s not quite now it works, Olivia. Plus, your mother’s never liked Jell-O.”

Olivia stuck out her bottom lip.

“I remember it!” Michael said.

“You do not!” Olivia reached out to hit her brother with her stuffed rabbit, but her father stopped her.

“Cut it out, you two. What’s with all the hitting lately?”

Michael sat up and glared at his sister. “I meant, I remember when you were in Mommy’s tummy. You made her fat.”

“I did not!” Olivia said.

“Michael, it’s not nice to call people fat. And your mother wasn’t fat, she had a baby in her belly. And if I remember correctly, you were very excited to meet your little sister.”

Michael pouted as he crossed his arms.

“How did I get in there?” Olivia asked. “How would I fit?”

Their father chuckled nervously. “Well, you weren’t as big as you are now. You started small, and you grew inside.”

“But how did I get there the first time, the little part?” Olivia asked, sitting up.

Their father coughed and scratched his head. “Well…”

“Yeah!” Michael turned to his father, gazing up at him with more curiosity than his father had ever seen. “How did we get in there?”

Their father froze, scrambling for words. Just then, a cartoon cat on the screen snatched the family goldfish from the bowl and slapped the pet beagle across the face, making an animated SLAP sound smack through the speakers.

His children’s petty arguments and hitting, their squabbles and now their overly-inquisitive questions suddenly hit him in a rush of panic. “Her brother smacked her with a fish!” he said.

Both children were silent for several seconds. Then Michael piped up.

“Really?”

The father looked at each of his children, who gazed intently up at him in awe. Had he expected them to believe him? He wasn’t sure.

“Yes,” he decided, nodding. “Yes, that’s how it happened.” He sighed, plastering mock ruefulness on his face. “Both times, unfortunately. That’s why you should never, ever hit your brother or sister. You never know what’ll come from it. Sometimes a red cheek—sometimes a baby.”

Michael and Olivia looked at each other with wide eyes, then nodded slowly. They each sat back against the couch and leaned their heads against their father’s shoulders, vowing silently to never ever slap each other with a fish.



Bibliography: Myths of the Cherokee: How the World Was Made, by James Mooney (1900)

Author’s Note: This story is ridiculous, I know. But I based it on one line of the Cherokee myth about the creation of the world, where man was created. After describing clever (though slightly more sensible) ways that plants and animals were created, the storyteller says, “Men came after the animals and plants. At first there were only a brother and sister until he struck her with a fish and told her to multiply, and so it was.” Then the woman has a baby a week later. When I first read this, I just thought… “What?” It’s so weird! And I really can’t help but laugh to myself when I picture it! I’m imagining these two young kids, almost like South Park cartoons, just sitting around, and suddenly the brother pulls a fish out of nowhere and smacks his sister with it—then, boom! She’s pregnant.

I thought maybe that’s what I could tell my kids when they ask where babies come from, so that’s basically what I wrote my story about. I also had to include a little explanation for why a father would say that to his children, so I had them squabbling and hitting each other in the beginning. This is also loosely based on an incident with my seven-year-old sister, who after watching a movie with a pregnant woman, kept asking us, “But how does the baby get in there?” She’s too smart for her own good. I think we explained as much as we could about the womb itself, but then told her she’d have to hear the rest when she was older.

Reading Diary Week 10: Myths of the Cherokee

Myths of the Cherokee, by James Mooney

How the World was Made: I find it a little strange that the storyteller takes the trouble to say that the earth was formed from a small speck of mud, stretched and hung by ropes from the sky, but then can't describe who it was who hung it there. I  guess it would be too much to explain, and might stray from the story, but when it says, "but no one remembers who put it there," it feels like a cheap excuse to me to avoid explaining something.

I did enjoy the explanation for the creation of mountains, that The Great Buzzard flew down to inspect the earth, but became weary and thus flew lower, dipping his wings into the soft earth, and when he brought them back up, the mud formed mountains.

I think it's funny the explanation that there is a mysterious "underworld" beneath our own, to which we can travel by springs. The narrator says we know the underworld has different seasons, because the waters are warmer during our winter, and cooler than the air in our summer. This seems absurd now, given scientific fact, but an interesting concept nonetheless. Before this, the story tells how one can get to the underworld by fasting and traveling via the water guided by an underworlder. I'd like to write a story about someone who does just that!

Possibly the most absurd thing I've read so far: "At first there were only a brother and sister until he struck her with a fish and told her to multiply, and so it was." Maybe that's what I'll tell my kids when they ask where babies come from.

Origin Of The Pleiades And The Pin: Somewhat of an odd story, but I like the idea of using its general theme for a story of my own. Young boys playing a game, and their mothers scold them, so they decide they'll run away where they can't bother their mothers anymore. Then, of course, their mothers are devastated to see they've lost their boys. Not that children should do things to "prove their mothers wrong," but it's a good example of how some situations seem so important or horrible to a child, when to a parent, it's just another lesson to teach, and in that miscommunication, a terribly important link is lost between the two. 

The Moon and the Thunders: I like the first explanation for the phases of the moon, but I was also a little disturbed by the fact that the sun's brother was courting her secretly...I like the story idea, but I wish instead of her brother, it could just be...someone she thought she didn't like.

(Why hide your face, moon?)

 
I also found the short explanation of "the thunders" intriguing... I picture the rush of waters, the quake of a mountain, thunderstorms...all as a kind of being that I could write a story about!

Week 9 Storytelling: The Ghost Dog

Grayson Jones couldn't sleep.

His feet were cold. 

Normally, it didn't bother the second grader to have chilly toes—he frequently splashed barefoot in the pond behind his house late into autumn—but that night, his un-warmed feet reminded him of what—or rather, who—wasn't there. 

Grayson's beagle, Bilbo, had slept at the foot of the little boy’s bed as far back as he could remember. In fact, Bilbo had slept beside Grayson's cradle even before that, although Grayson couldn't remember that far. 

Bilbo was an old dog, and in the past few years, he had started to move a little slower. His back left paw dragged the floor a bit when he walked, and it seemed a great difficulty for him to lift his body from his dog bed in the afternoons.

Bilbo’s family knew his time was coming to an end, but Grayson didn’t understand why the dog he’d known his entire life could be falling apart so soon—for it was just the beginning of Grayson’s life, after all.

And so, when Bilbo didn’t wake to lick Grayson’s face that fateful morning, the little boy wasn’t prepared for the loneliness that followed.

His family held a respectful funeral for old Bilbo in their backyard, and Grayson’s mother and father shed earnest tears as they planted a flower over the dirt. But when Grayson came home from school, there was no one to wag his tail and lick his shins. There was no one to hunt frogs with in the backyard. And there was no one to warm his feet at night.

After what felt like hours of searching for sleep, Grayson climbed out of bed. He went to the backyard, through the gate, and into the lily field. He thought about the times he and Bilbo had wandered through the weeds, hunting down robbers and buried treasure. He thought about the time he’d fallen and scraped his knee, and Bilbo had licked his wounds before running off to fetch his mother.

He just wanted to see his friend again.

Finally, Grayson reached the pond. He’d played on the red-dirt shore near his house numerous times—Bilbo sometimes swam there, too.

But Grayson had never ventured to the tree line that began near the middle of the pond. The water curved around a hill and was shaded by dense willow trees, making the opposite shore seem dark and mysterious, even in the summer.

Grayson reached the first tree and kept walking. He climbed the hill a little farther, passing two more trees. Finally, the shade of the leaves blocked the bright moonbeams, and Grayson stood in near darkness, looking down on the enigmatic glimmer of water that had before been out of sight.

There, on the far shore, darting between the trees and occasionally into the murky water, was a pack of dogs. A large greyhound sniffed diligently at an oak; a tiny dachshund dug at a rotten stump; and at the waters’ edge, illuminated by a milky beam of light, Bilbo sat howling whole-heartedly at the moon.

Grayson smiled. “Bilbo!”

At the boy’s voice, the dog ran toward him. The beagle dashed through the slippery mud and darted up the pebbly hill, and Grayson realized that this was not the dog he knew. It was Bilbo, yes, but he moved with an ease Grayson had never seen, or couldn’t remember.

Bilbo yelped cheerfully and jumped at Grayson’s feet. The boy knelt down, and his friend licked his face excitedly, wriggling from wet nose to pointy tail. His eyes were clear and bright, no longer foggy and tired.

“I miss you, Bilbo.”

The dog whined and licked the little boy’s face. Then he scampered off to a nearby bush. He picked up a stick, the perfect size for throwing, and brought it to Grayson.

The two played for hours, fetching and chasing fireflies and digging in the mud. After a long while that felt entirely too short, Bilbo ran to the edge of the forest and sat down, looking back at his old house.

It was time for Grayson to go home.

“I wanted you to come home, Bilbo,” Grayson said, petting the dog’s slick head.

But he knew he couldn’t now. Bilbo was livelier than Grayson had ever seen him, and the little boy suddenly realized he didn’t want to see his friend limping or wheezing again, even if that meant his own feet weren't warm at night and no one licked his fingers after dinner.

Grayson knelt beside his friend and rubbed his ears. Bilbo licked his face until there wasn’t a dry spot on the boy’s skin, though that was partly from the tears that dribbled down his cheeks.

“Goodbye, Bilbo.”

Grayson stood and walked down the hill to the familiar shore of the pond and stopped. Turning, he waved one last time at his faithful friend, who barked from his spot at the edge of the trees. 

Then Bilbo ran back through the woods to the other side of the pond, where he never limped, the grass was soft, and the air was always warm.

(Happy Bilbo)

Bibliography: Alaskan Legends; The Ghost Land, from an Anthology by Katharine Judson

Author's Note: I based my story on an Alaskan legend called The Ghost Land. In this story, the chief's son's wife dies, and the man is terribly sad. One night he can't sleep, so he gets up early and walks all day along the "Death Trail" until he reaches a lake. On the other side of the lake, he sees people wandering about, including his wife. He yells at them several times, but they don't hear him. Then he whispers, and someone from the other side notices him. He crosses on a little boat and finds his wife, who tells him he shouldn't stay long. He brings her back with him to his home, but no one can see her. They lay a blanket over her, but it hangs in the air like she's a ghost, which she is. Then the man dies and they both go back to ghost land as ghosts.

The haunting element of the story intrigued me, but I also thought the story needed a little better ending besides, "We can't see her. You die. The end." I thought of people who've lost love ones and how hard it is to let them go, even when we know they're in a better place. I wanted to incorporate that "lesson" into my story, so I used a dog who was in pain because of his old age. I wanted Grayson to realize and be a little more at peace with how happy Bilbo was in the afterlife, even if they both missed each other.

Week 9 Reading Diary Part II: Alaskan Legends

Alaskan Legends, an anthology by Karharine Judson

Origin of the Chilkat Blanket: My favorite part of this story was at the end, when the Raven goes into the sea and discovers Gonaqadet in an underwater cave, wearing the chilkat blanket. I think I might want to recreate a scene like this for my storybook to explain the lost city if Kitezh...maybe Reepicheep travels underwater and discovers something in a cave, or is with the people when their village is attacked, and so he sends an artifact with someone to be stored away in a cave, which then sinks underwater.

Origin of the Winds: Reading these Alaskan myths, I've noticed many of the stories in involve reindeer. At first, I thought this was kind of odd, since there are a lot more animals in the world than just reindeer, and I'm used to hearing stories of wolves and lions...then I remembered that in Alaska, reindeer are a lot more prevalent, and that the people who wrote these stories may have never seen a lion before in their lives. And so, they told their stories of the origins of nature from their own perspective. In the creation of wind story, a doll cuts holes in the east, west, north, and south skies, and out of the holes come reindeer, or different kinds of weather. I just think it's interesting that most of these people probably thought the world resembled Alaska, or whatever area they traveled from. But in reality, if anything like this story had actually happened, an elephant might come out of one hole, a penguin from another, and a cheetah from one. The world is so much more diverse than they might have ever imagined, but they explained things from what information they had.

The Land of the Dead: This story was kind of creepy...about a girl who's dead and whose grandfather comes to show her the land of the dead. The dead are referred to as "shades," and one man (or a dead cow?) lives his afterlife lying down in the grass, unable to free himself from the weeds because he pulled up grass while he was alive. I wish there was a little more detail or explanation in these myths to explain what exactly was happening, or describe more of the meaning behind the tales.

(Land of the Dead, illustration from Judson's book)

The Ghost Land: I really liked this story about a man whose wife is dead, and so he walks all day along the trail of the dead, ending at a lake where she and other dead people live. This part reminded me of the inferi from Harry Potter, and the whole story had a creepy, mysterious vibe. I like the idea of retelling the story and elaborating on some of the details and the ending.

Week 9 Reading Diary Part I: Alaskan Legends

Alaskan Legends, an anthology by Katharine Judson

Raven's Creation: I think it's interesting the way the storyteller describes the raven lifting his beak as though he's taking off a mask, and then he is suddenly a man. There was also an interesting idea that the ground the raven made earlier was thick and solid, whereas the ground he created later was still squishy and thin. I also found it interesting that the raven shaped several animals out of clay, and the storyteller seemed to explain different colored animals by the way the "clay" dried. for instance, only the white belly of the wild deer was completely dry when Raven made it come to life.

Raven Creates People: I like that the Raven supposedly created the shrewmouse simply so that the earth would not look "bare and cheerless." How simple a reason to create a mouse. ...But then he also makes mosquitoes and insects so that the earth is less cheerless, and that just seems wrong.

I'm curious now whether people believed the myths of The Raven and creation (like a religion almost), or if they just viewed them as stories...either way, it all seems kind of odd to me, and random. Why a raven? When do the men come from pea pods?

It might be fun to do a retelling of one of these stories as a little child listening to the story and asking questions about where things came from.

Skyland and Sea: I thought it sort of came out of nowhere when the raven decided to turn the man into a polar bear while they were hanging out at the bottom of the ocean...It might be fun to develop this small part of the story to give an explanation for why the raven did this. Maybe something happens while the man is asleep and the raven really needs a white bear... or has to protect man from being seen.

I think I'd like to write a story about the terrible a-mi-kuk animal that sounds like a seal, but wraps its four long arms around kayaks and tries to kill men if they attempt to escape. The story tells of the creature burrowing through the earth to chase men, so it would be a formidable villian/fear for any story.

I do think it's almost...whimsical or twisted, the way all the animals and characters in the Raven Myths are sort of not-as-they-should-be. Deer start out with teeth like wolves, and they can attack people...The raven is some sort of god and can become a man, and there's a whole world of sky-people who are like dwarves and wear fancy clothes. In essence, it almost reminds me of a Tim Burton movie, where everything is just a little bit backwards. I think I might like to write a story like this, maybe borrowing one of these basic plots (or probably one from one of the later stories), and then setting it in a very backwards world.

(A place where the Sky People would live? Or maybe the evil sky people...)

Reading Selections for Week 9 and 10

As soon as I saw the Alaska section for the Native American unit, I knew I wanted to read it. I feel like my future started with Alaska.

Here's the shortened version of why: Josh's family was stationed in Alaska a few years before they moved to Lawton, Oklahoma. Where they lived, there were several local coffee huts where you could drive up and get a coffee and bagel.

(Sunrise Bagel & Espresso)

When they moved to Lawton, Josh's mom missed the local coffee huts, so she opened Lu Lu's Coffee & Bagel, where I had my first job, and later met Josh, who is now my fiance. I also surprised him in Alaska shortly after we started dating and he had already planned a trip to visit his friend there for a whole month (he wanted me there, I promise.)

Other than that, I love how wildly natural Alaska is. The "Last Frontier" is one of the few places where humans haven't defiled every inch of the land with stores and roads, and I think that's really cool. I've grown up around lots of Native American history, but everything I know is from Oklahoma, so I'm excited to learn about a culture far, far from from where the wind comes sweeping down the plain. I'm most interested in section B, which has more diverse stories about wildlife and nature and ghosts, rather than many about one character.

I may have to go against my better judgement and read stories from the Cherokee tribe. Like I said, I grew up in Oklahoma, so I feel like I've been bombarded with stories of red dirt and the Trail of Tears my entire life, so much so that I've grown to resent it. But, I must admit, if I dig around in my brain, I don't know many stories about the land I grew up in, and it might do me some good to gain a fresh perspective, rather than basing all my opinions of Native American history on the boring museums I walked through as a kid. Plus, the title, "How the World was Made" caught my attention. I love myths and folktales that tell a story of why nature is the way that it is.

Blog Ideas

I was a fan of how Jasmine's background in her blog was stationary when you scrolled down the pages. If you're going to pick a fun background you like, you want your readers to see it! This way, they don't lost it when they start reading the story.


I also liked that the links (like the reply button) were all in bright pink, so they were easy to find.









I guess mine is actually the same way... my links are blue and my background doesn't move, but the picture thing was less noticeable on mine because she had a translucent base for her text.

I loved Caitlin's blog! I loved how Harry Pottery it was, and that the background picture reminded me of Hogwarts. The first thing that caught my eye was the font of the header, and I think I want to use it in my own blog. I also thought the colors matched the mood really well, so now I'm considering toning down my bright blue font to something a little more mellow.

My favorite thing about Madison's blog was that she had a toolbar at the top for viewers to get from page to page, rather than just the long list of tags on the right side of the page. This just seemed cleaner and more efficient to me for some reason, so I'd like to learn how to do that for my own blog. I wonder if I can just add a few pages, or if it would have to be everything that's also a tag...

New Time Plan

At the beginning of the semester, I knew my Mondays were going to be pretty full, so I planned my week for this class to start on Tuesday. However, as the semester progressed, and all my classes sort of "developed," I realized that this class is one I'm better able do small amounts throughout the day (for the most part), while some of my other classes (namely capstone) require larger chunks of unbroken time.

And on Monday, I actually do have a big chunk of time in the middle of my day with no class. I didn't know this before the semester started, because I didn't realize how my "blended" History of Journalism class worked. 

For this reason, I've decided to "change" my schedule. And by change, I mean write down what I've been doing instead of what I wrote at the beginning, because what I'm doing is working really well.

• Monday: 2-3 hours (between 1:30 and 4:30, and sometimes when I run out of things to do in the morning at work) Sometimes I can get both readings done on a Monday, little by little throughout the day, and some before bed. Otherwise, I at least do the first one.
• Tuesday: 1 hour (if I haven't already finished the second reading, I do that. If I have, sometimes I write the story on Tuesday. Otherwise, I like to use my big break for writing my novella.)
• Wednesday: 2-3 hours (same as Monday; this is usually Storytelling day, unless I'm ahead)
• Thursday: I have 3 solid hours on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and if I'm not in the mood to write for my capstone, I usually finish the week here, and do some extra credit. Obviously, I have to wait to do blog commenting, though. 
• Friday: Finish whatever isn't done
• Weekend: do more extra credit if I feel like it

Basically, my plan is to get/stay ahead, and then for everything else, I sort of just do what I'm in the mood to do. I have set working hours, but I'm not always in the mood to work on my novella, or to think of a story idea for this class, so I just do whatever I can make myself do at the moment. And when I lose all motivation (which has happened a little too frequently in the past week—at least, more than I'm comfortable with), then I'll just think about graduation (December), moving on with my life (January-June), and getting married (JUNE. 2017.)

Fortunately, my semester should actually get easier after Spring Break, or at least be the same. My novella will be done, so that will be a big project out of the way. I'll have to pick up the pace for my group project in Health Promotion Evaluation, though, so that might level it out.

(Me during group projects) 

That's how I feel sometimes. Like I'm pulling all the weight (SOMETIMES), but we're also getting nowhere. I really hate group projects. They're so much more complicated than just doing something by yourself. Group discussion? Great. Project? No, thank you.

Growth Mindset Challenge: Multiple Intelligences

After watching the Multiple Intelligences video...

I knew from the very first comic of the "multiple intelligences" memes that I lean heavily toward linguistic! I love to read and write, but also talk and hear other people's ideas. That's one thing I really love about this class--it's all reading and writing and sharing ideas!

I love that this class has allowed me (and made me) write a story every week. Being in PW, we're supposed to write all the time (at least every day, maybe six days a week), but sometimes it's hard to make yourself write when you don't have to. Especially after you have to write 4,000 words a week in the fall semester...being on winter break didn't exactly make me want to hop back on the keyboard.

But this class has reminded me that all writing doesn't have to be as structured, or as purposeful as, say, writing a book or short stories. Sometimes you need to journal your thoughts, or create stories from other stories, and that really gets the creative juice flowing!

And oh boy, am I a naturalist! I love the outdoors, and animals, and exploring! I think that's why The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings spoke to me so much. They're the most epic adventure stories. My favorite line from The Hobbit (quoted mercilessly by me and my two best friends) is, "I'm going on an adventure!" Take me with you, Bilbo.

I'm also very visual/spatial, as I can often remember a quote in a book by picturing where it was on the page. And I like to draw and paint, and I can usually replicate a picture really well by looking at it.

(Totally me)

I'd like to improve on my logical/mathematical intelligence, though. Mostly the logical part of it...I can't bring myself to make myself do unnecessary math just yet. (Not my forte at all!) Josh has great critical thinking skills, and I really admire that trait. I feel like my brain has a lot of potential that I need to exercise more. I should do more brain-teasers or find an interesting puzzle book, because I don't feel like my classes are a good way to stretch that area of my brain. One, because I'm in a lot of linguistically-geared classes (because I chose them), and two, I usually look at my schoolwork as a "get it done as quickly and efficiently as possible and get an A." So, I do what I need for the grade, but I don't always let the information affect my long-term memory or challenge myself if I don't have to (especially in classes I'm not as interested in, like sciences).

(Totally not me)

I liked the point the video made about the intelligences working together...they're each important in their own right, but they function most strongly together. This is something I need to remember and apply more diligently to my own life. I tend to lean toward activities I know I'll excel at (anything linguistic, physical, outdoorsy) and shy away from my weak areas (math, music). But if I work to strengthen my weak points, every part of my brain will function more efficiently!