Writing with Hope

What is the point of a story if it does not bring hope? What is the point if all a story brings is sadness, hardship, despair, and evil? Is not the world full enough already with those things without us adding to them? If you want to see evil, if you want to feel pain, look at the world around you. It does not take much looking to see the suffering. It does not take much looking to see the evil. Why must we create more of it in our stories?

And yet, there is a place for sadness, and evil, and pain in tales that we write, for it can bring change and healing. Without it, the stories would be lifeless, mere platitudes, yes even a mockery to those in pain. For life truly is full of all those things. So how can I speak out of both sides of my mouth then saying we must not write evil and yet we must write evil? 

It is the evil without hope that I write against. Stories must end in hope--even if just a glimmer of it--for stories show us life. And to give up hope, is to up life. 

For a christian especially there is hope, even in death--especially in death. It is sometimes the privilege of  stories to reveal that hope in our lives, or to recall it to us when it grows dim, and we seem to have lost it. 

If it ever comes to a point where our stories lose all hope and happy ends, it will be a sad world indeed to live in... 

But ah! Where is the hope in that? 

I do not despair for I am sure there are others like me who still hold dear the happy endings of their childhoods and wish to see them return. And perhaps, perhaps I might have a small hand helping them once more bring hope to our world. 

February 14, Poem #31 English Teacher

Before you read this poem, I must point out that I did not have a specific English teacher in mind when I wrote it.

English Teacher
By Melody Beerbower, with special dedication to Winston Churchill from whom I stole a quote.

I had an English teacher.
She was very strict.
When we used poor grammar,
Off her it would tick.

One day she had enough,
And made us up to line.
She gave to us a talking
About grammar points so fine.

"There are important things,
About which we must talk."
Out flew her favorite weapon-
A white and gritty piece of chalk.

"When you write a sentence,
You must write it neatly.
When it's time to end one,
You must end it completely."

"That is why you must never, never
Under ANY circumstance,
End a sentence with a PREPOSITION. 
Believe me, this is not that advanced."

"Oh the things with which you struggle,
I don't know from where you get it.
If you think that this is something
You can get away with, forget it."

"At what are you laughing?
At what are you staring?
Have you no appreciation
For the wisdom I am sharing?"

"Now, down sit! Up look!
Pay attention to me!
I'm not done with you yet.
This is something to which I must see."

"This shall go on no longer.
Down I am putting my foot.
This is the kind of nonsense
Up with which I shall not put!"

"Every Kindergartener should know this.
I think down things they are dumbing.
It makes me start to wonder
To what is this world coming?"

Yep, that was my English teacher.
We loved her in spite of all that.
And sometimes I find myself wondering
Where in the world she is at.


 

On Clever Writing

I recently read a book called Three Men in a Boat. (To say nothing of  the Dog) by Jerome K. Jerome. (His parents were so original with his name.)  This highly amusing book made me laugh out loud several times. It even made my older sister laugh out loud when she read it. That must mean it's funny.  And I don't mean lol-you-may-have-just-cracked-a-smile-or-perhaps-let-out-an-amused-snort laughing out loud. I mean tears-running-down-your-face, wouldn't-want-to-read-this-book-in-public-for-fear-of-looking-like-you're-crazy laughing out loud.

I read another of his books which is a compilation of some essay-type writings.  They too were funny. I decided I would like to try to write something copying his style of writing, so I did. I don't know how well I accomplished that, but it was fun to write.  You should definitely NOT judge his books by this next piece of writing I'm going to share. 

On Clever Writing

By Melody Beerbower, March 22, 2012

    Often I feel like writing something clever, but whenever I sit down and decide, "I think I shall write something clever today." nothing comes to mind.

    However, when I'm snuggled down in bed with the covers wrapped cozily about me, my mind wanders and I think up the cleverest things. They make me chuckle and I think I should like to write them down-- only my bed is too warm and I haven't any paper and pencil handy. So I leave it till morning. As a precaution I replay the words in my head -over and over- even picturing how they would look on paper.  I drift off to sleep and my dreams are filled with it. It winds it's way in and out of them in the strangest fashion.

   When I awake in the morning I have a haunting feeling that there is something I've forgotten, and that I had imagined something very clever last night, but I can't quite grasp it.

   Well, that's the way it goes with dreams.  I remember one time I had the most enjoyable and fantastic dream.  I was quite excited by it. When I awoke I lay with my eyes closed, replaying the most interesting parts in my head. I reviewed everything very closely so as to make sure I would remember it. Then I opened my eyes. 

  Have you ever noticed how the sophisticated  light of day vanishes all the fancies of the night? Try as hard as I might to conjure up my dream all I could produce was a vague impression of danger and romance and a chase and some great sacrifice on my part. Who or what I had sacrificed myself for I do not know, but it must have been something noble because I felt so grand inside.

   Now bedtime is not the only time Cleverness strikes.  It often happens at such convenient times like when I'm sitting in the car wishing I had brought along some bit of paper and a pencil to jot down my ingenious ideas. Of course had I brought them, my mind would be blank and my paper merely covered in doodles.

   Often it sneaks up on me when I'm talking,or rather listening, to a particularly dull person. And I'm paying more attention to how the end of their mountainous nose bobs up and down as they speak, or how they have a stray piece of dandruff below their hair line, and have made a rather half-hearted attempt at applying their makeup today. The person generally is too busy talking to notice I'm not paying attention, and I'm too busy not paying attention --being caught up in all my clever musings-- to notice how remarkable it is he hasn't noticed yet.

  And so cleverness comes and goes...and some are more clever than others to capture it and put it down on paper.

This is me sitting on our chicken coop writing a song called "An Awkward Day", which I may or may not post depending on my gumption. (And yes, I'm wearing red pants.)