“Sula” by Toni Morrison : It was a fine cry, loud and long, but it had no bottom and it had no top, just circles and circles of sorrow. (1973) Toni was born February 18^th, 1931.
"Sula" focuses on a young black girl named Sula, who matures into a strong and determined woman in the face of adversity and the distrust, even hatred, of her by the black community in which she lives.

   

       It was a wrong number that started it, the telephone ringing three times in the dead of night, and the voice on the other end asking for someone he was not. – Paul Auster, “City of Glass” Born in February 3^rd, 1947. ( The New York Trilogy )

The New York Trilogy consists of three exciting detective stories: City of Glass, Ghosts, and The Locked Room. Each is a thriller that is brilliantly written and sure to hold the reader's interest.


I would probably not read "Sula" because it is not my type of book to really get invested in.

If I had some free time, I would consider reading "The New York Trilogy" because it is a good read, but still not exactly my type of literature to read.

“The News”

Opening time is short for Joe Biden’s presidential nomination. Does he have a path through the treacherous party officials enthusiastic about going to the president of New Hampshire. Creating issues expected to be full throttle to the broadly unsettled nature, eating into the once-commanding Hillary Clinton by controversy. Caught off guard by Donald Trump’s discussion on talk shows, he was a real mogul neurosurgeon, party leader, found in second place in the politics survey.

            The riders line their top six corners of the ring. I have to go to her, in one hand rubbing it in slow circles without taking her eyes off my father. Sheila said I couldn’t make out! The corner of our truck collided into Jesus Christ, I’ve been looking for you from a distance. Noticing someone was standing behind me, come with me she said, not a fucking minute did I follow Valerie where she had laid out a folding chair. It was dark, shining boots with her all day.

            If I was lying, I didn’t say anything. Her hands said I should get back to work, I told them thanks for the grapes. Everyone carried a hose refilling those women, usually drunk. Things were jugs of water, squirted her good. Trying to corner her in the stall, cowering beneath my father was better. At the sweatshirt trailed, toward the breathing fingers, still wrapped an empty arena. Feeding his boot until Sheila stood chewing on the tip of all of the horses warmed up by their riders, he might yank her, she said.

                                          

                                                   “Don’t quote me on that”

                               My life is like a speeding bullet that just hasn't hit the target yet.

                                                                   

                                                         

Writers as Readers

1.      When you read, what do you need to be comfortable?

Answer: I usually need maybe some snacks and a drink, but without a doubt a space heater.

2.      

What is one of your best memories connected with reading?

Answer: Whenever I finished reading the final book the Tunnels series, I felt like I had accomplished a lot and was more knowledgeable.

3.      

 What is your favorite book or series? Why is this your favorite?

Answer: My favorite book series is the tunnels series, it is my favorite because it talks about a kid my age who explores an underground universe with his dad and a couple friends he meets along the way which I think is pretty cool.

4.      

What was the first book you remember reading? Why does this book stand out in your memory?

Answer: The first actual book I remember reading is the Bible. I believe it stands out because it is God’s word and my relationship with him means a lot to me, so of course I’m going to care about what he wants us to know, and hear.

5.     

Who was your first reading teacher? Why do you remember her? Was it a teacher or someone else who taught you?

Answer: My first reading teacher was my mom, because I was homeschooled up until 8^th grade. I remember her obviously because she is my mom, and I would say she taught me English pretty well.

6.    

  Complete one or more of the following sentences and explain your answer

Answer: When I finished reading Tunnels, I was sad because I knew the adventure was over.

-Jesse

The Tunnels series was very important to me when I was younger, it brought me a lot of joy during very lonely and empty times. The book could take my mind from the place I was at to the made up world of Roderick Gordon. About exploring underground and finding a whole other civilization that is just as corrupt as the one they were living in above ground.

                As  a kid I had a very open mind, and adventurous spirit which led to me to do a lot of things that I’m not proud of, but will never regret. The book was able to take my imaginative mind to a whole other level, I often day-dreamed about living in the book with all the characters I had become so attached to. 

I have read every book in the series, but haven’t really kept up on them lately because I’ve gotten older and have a lot more responsibilities and stuff to do, that I find it hard to save time to read a book, even once a day.

“But I’m not just talking about faith in the laws of science. I’m talking about faith in one’s convictions, in one’s beliefs. For far too long, I lacked faith, and faith can move mountains, faith can open your eyes to whole new lands.” 
― Roderick Gordon, Freefall

-Jesse

 

As I lied down on my black satin sheets, I felt the worries of day gently float off of my chest. My head sinking into the pillow and my body slowly starting to vibrate. My mind reaches emptiness, and when that happens, the magic starts. I feel my spirit being torn from my body into a familiar place. This is not the first time that I’ve been here, this time I knew what to do. I had left my psychical body and had made it to the spirit realm. It becomes quiet dangerous once you reach this point, sometimes you never go back. Most people hang on to an object that has meaning to them, and in their dream, they will grab that object and realize it’s just a dream and return to their psychical body. But this time I was a little more experienced and I knew what to do.

          After I left my body I was just floating in my room deciding where I should explore to tonight.

I went out my window and began walking down my street, I noticed little elves running around yelling my name, and they eventually surrounded me. It was like I was there leader and they were happy I had made it there. As I continued to walk the elves followed just a few feet behind me. I walked in to my local gas station which was for some reason floating 30 feet in the air and there was an old ladder to get up the entrance. I walked into the floating gas station to find that there was a party going on with tons of spirits and even a couple normal people like me, they welcomed me warmly and handed me a cup with a mysterious clear liquid in it. As this wasn’t my psychical body I said why not and chugged the whole thing. After I had done that they all stared at me with a bewildering look in their eyes, finally one of the spirits told me that I had just drank a full cup of liquid LSD. I turned around only to see that the sky was swirling and was made up of about 50 different colors, I looked down and said to myself, and the night has just began.

-Jesse

Weird

One of the strangest dreams I’ve had was about a year ago. I was going through this very details psychedelic purple portal. In my dream I had the sensation of looking through my brain because I could see everything around me at a 360 angel.

        Shortly after this I heard a distinct crackling sound, and I was shot off through the portal and was in the presence of a spirit entity. His aura was peaceful, but at the same time very strange, and new to me.

        All I remember after this is the spirit taking me to different rooms. And in each room was new entity. It was almost like there was levels to them. Each room was moving and almost indescribable, it was very psychedelic. After this I woke up and sat there for a while trying to recollect on what I had just seen.

-Jesse

Caged bird sings

I know why the night never ends
its mystery no longer holds me

I know that you will never know

I don’t know why it calls me back
I try to hide but nothing lasts

Birds stay away, they hide in the trees

Being caged only made me want to be free

Freedom rings out through the brisk air

Singing duets in a pair

I sing of the friends who have passed
Who gladly would've given the shirt off their back

Flying through the night sky I see myself
where do you see your reflection?

Flying away from all of the daily worries.

                            -Jesse

Jesse Hunter

Mrs. Fraser

Creative Writing

September 11, 2015

Writers dreaming.

Question: Angelou says, “There’s a world of difference between truth and fact.” What do you think she means by that? Do you think the same?

Answer: I agree with Angelou there is a huge difference between truth and fact. Fact is more like proof, or something that is proven. Truth is more of a moral, it’s more about what’s right and what is real.

Question: After going through major trauma at age seven, Angelou didn’t talk for almost five years. Could you live this way? Do you talk too much or too little? What could you learn if you listened more and spoke less? How could you grow as a person by speaking more?

Answer: I believe that I could live this way, but it would take me a long time to get used to. I am a quiet person usually, I find myself observing and listening a lot more than I would talk. When you don’t speak you are learning from everything and everyone around you by just listening and observing. When you talk you are teaching other people and sometimes you do learn something new from talking to people about things. I find that when I listen I find out more about other people and things. I enjoy being in nature when it is quiet and you can just be away from all the distractions and stuff going on and just focus on yourself and your surroundings. Doing this will help you become a better person and also help you find out who you are.

Question: Angelou mentions being told that “one can’t really learn after one is twenty-five.” Do you think the older you get the harder it is to try or learn new things? Or do you think being older means you’re more focused on what’s important and not distracted by things that keep you from learning?

Answer: I believe that you can learn new things no matter what age you are. That statement is ignorant and probably said by someone who never even valued knowledge. I learn new things every day, about myself, other people, my surroundings, and other things. Age is not something that limits you to never learning anything, this is probably the most ignorant thing I’ve ever read. Are older people wiser because they stopped learning when they were twenty-five? No of course not, you can learn something new every day for the rest of your life if you wanted to. Though you may not learn something new every day, you will continue to learn throughout your whole life.

Jesse Hunter

Mrs. Fraser

Creative Writing

September 11, 2015

Lost

The men were in dark, British uniforms and on tall, dark horses. As they approached our front door they told my family to leave the room. They quickly hopped off of the horses and began coming closer in an almost pattern like movement. One of them, who seemed to be their leader looked at me with his cold grey eyes and said, “they’re coming, run.’\

            I immediately ran back into my house where I found that my family was nowhere to be seen. I looked outside and noticed the dark men were gone. I quickly grabbed my 9mm from my nightstand drawer and stood there in silence for several minutes. My mind was racing at lightning speed with unending possibilities of what those men could’ve meant and where the hell my family was.

            I decided to leave the house and began walking towards the old church that has been closed for many years. As I neared the old church I saw a dark silhouette standing underneath a massive oak tree in the church courtyard. I started walking towards this figure almost as if I was being drawled in. Eventually I was just a few steps from this featureless figure. As I looked into his deep grey eyes my body collapsed and my mind began going down a bottomless tunnel of questions that I could not answer. I tried to swim but the push of water kept me from saving myself.

Story time

Jesse Hunter

Mrs. Fraser

Creative Writing

September 9th, 2015

The old, grey-haired man woke up to another gloomy, lonely day.

As he gazed out his condo window at the ocean, slowly floating by, he realized that he longed to be like the ocean. Slowly through life calm, and worry free. Reflecting something great, like the infinite blue sky.

          When he was young he often dreamed of being a pilot. He loved the excitement and somewhat risk that it brought. He never wanted to be in the same place for too long. The old man would always dream about being up in the cozy, fluffy, clouds where he thought he might find peace. He would search for that peace his all life, now it seems that life is getting more grey than the hair that remains on his head.

          At one point the old man became restless, nothing he was doing was bringing him any happiness or peace. His life had become an everyday trail. He would visit his wife Charlene’s grave every Tuesday with her favorite roses. Tuesdays were very hard for him, sometimes he would get angry with himself, but he always had to remind himself what his wife would’ve wanted him to be doing. But all the man could think about was the way she looked in that red dress a few days before she passed.

          One day as the old grey-haired man was walking along the beach on a cool Sunday night, he decided to just sit down and watch the ocean again. He began to realize that most of everything in life is just temporary, even his own life. And when he understood that, he got up immediately and began screaming and crying “What have I been doing all these years!” He quickly headed back to his car and drove home without saying a word. The man had found peace, not just peace, but his own peace. He was simply okay with whatever happened from there on out, he wasn’t worried about any material things or temporary things, cause his life was so black and barren. The old man said to himself “It’s time I start painting my own life.”

Poetry

Short story by Jesse Hunter

The old grey-haired man woke up to another gloomy and lonely day.

As he gazed out his condo window at the ocean, slowly floating by, he realized that he longed to be like the ocean. Slowly moving through life calm, and worry free. Reflecting something great, like the infinite blue sky.

“Blushing Princess”

Everybody in the kingdom knew about the princess. She was a very shy girl and was known for it. Even though she tried, she could never hide the bright red blush that came every time she would converse with a man. Short, slim, with a beautiful face, the young men could not keep from talking to the princess.

575

In the small garden

Full of misty, colorful flowers

We lie here alone

7 Line

We travel down a dark road

It leads through the pine forest

Surrounded by the green shade of the forest

Across the ravine

Into the rock covered trail

Looking into the reflecting windowpane

As everything turns to ash.

Letters

The young adventurer

Opposition never affected him

United he would stand

Calm and ready

How intelligent was this young man!

Of course he was celebrated

For people could not deny his free spirit and kind heart

Loving and giving, were traits of this man

Every morning he would serve the poor

Overcoming fear and anxiety, he left the tribe

No one would stop him, because it was right.