She Eats Apples

For this week and next, we'll be discussing Stephanie K. Brownwell's play She Eats Apples. Some questions I have:

• This play is supposed to be about "rape culture." What is rape culture? How does the play explore this issue?
• Why is it important that Ben and Ashley have the perfect Halloween costumes? Why do they need to dress up as a pair?
• What is the importance of the prom (in the play and/or just generally in US culture)?
• Why are there only six parts although there are many more characters? 
• Why is there only one part for a man and all the rest women's roles?
• Why is there a character named "She"? Why are the other two called "Girl 1" and "Girl 2"? How is "She" different from "Girl 1" and "Girl 2"?
• What is the significance of apples?
• What is the significance of fairy tales? Video games? Classic art? Pop culture? 
• Why isn't the story told chronologically?
• What questions do you have as you read the play?

A-Z flash fiction

  As I sit on the bench with my best friend. Boys get drunk on the table beside us. Carelessly they talk loudly disturbing the peace and quietness of the atmosphere. During my stressful times I like to come here and relax but my relaxation time is being disturbed right now.

 “Edward is my name; I am from Italy” said a voice. “For your information you are really cute” said the same voice. Generally, I don’t do long distance relationships but for you I will he said, while turning to face me. He looked directly at me and smiled. I waved my hands at him too but only because he was good looking.

 “Jacket is on the floor” he said pointing at the floor. Knowing that the situation just got kind of awkward I waved at him and said thanks. “Luckily for you I saw that, you would have lost it”, he said.

            “My name is Elena” and this is my best friend I said to him.

 Nice name you have there, what does it mean?. Oh these are my friends they are not from Italy they live here in the USA, he said. People in this country are generally not nice but you are an exception he said “again” and, I started to wonder why he was talking too much. Quietness finally came from his table.

            Remembering all those moments make me happy. Special moments like these are hard to forget. That is the day I met my long distance lover who is now my husband. Usually people say long distance relationships fail but, not in our case. Valentines day is our favorite time of the year. We met on Valentines Day. Xylophone is our favorite musical instrument or mine rather. Years go by and time passes by but he still remains by my side.

            Zapped with love, I fell for the half drunk guy from another county who swept me off my feet with just a smile.

Thanksgiving Week

Since we're not meeting this week, there is no blog required. If you neglected to make entries last week, I will accept them up until the end of this week. Don't forget to read at least the first half of She Eats Apples. You'll be required to make entries on it next week. Happy Thanksgiving!

The Fantastic in Fiction

There is a long history of "the fantastic" in literature that goes back to some of our earliest myths and religions and folktales. Often, these stories of the fantastic are ways to help us understand the world we live in, they're creation stories or stories that help us know why we're here or why we are they way we are.

I would consider both of the stories we read for this week fantastic stories (in both senses of the word--they're magic and they're also just really good). They also both use real elements of the natural world. In "The Mushroom Queen," we have a mushroom who takes on the shape of a woman and makes the woman a mushroom. But this is not just fantasy, it relies on real science. Look, for instance at the first full par. on p. 170: Beetles really do interact w/ mushrooms this way. Ziemska is just imagining what that would feel like if the mushrooms were part of a sentient individual. Likewise, no human child has ever been kidnapped by a raptor. But what if it had? And what if, instead of eating it, it adopted the child? It would probably feed it in the way described on p. 424.

This week, I'd like you to respond to the fantastic elements in both of these stories. Did you believe in them? Did they remind you of other stories, TV shows, films? Which ones and why? What do these stories have to do w/ contemporary life? With the environment?

Since we're finishing up the fiction section of the course, you might make some general comments on what makes fiction different than other genres? Which story, or stories, that we read did you connect to best and why? Which stories did you struggle w/?

Who’s the antagonist?

During our group sessions on Tuesday an idea of the reading “The Story Of A True Artist” arose. Is Cam really the antagonist? In my opinion, Cam though he did leave the YouTube channel which would be considered an evil move, it’s really not. Cam was simply doing what Lo wanted to do which is be famous. People don’t start YouTube channels without that intentions and although he is wealthier than Lo, it doesn’t really mean he can’t go and fulfill his dreams. Another argument I can make is that he was technically doing all the work. This story was told in the eyes of Lo and she even said all she did was have her own little box in the corner. All she did was do facial reactions while Cam did the commentary, jokes, etc. Finally, we must be realistic in identifying antagonists. All our life we’ve been taught that we must work harder than the person next to us. We were planted this mentality of constant competition theroefore, just because the protagonist didn’t get what they wanted are we gonna blame someone who is working hard for what he wants. What do you guys think?

ABC FLASH FICTION

Flash Fiction

Postpartum depression

Almost every day, i wake up with drops of sweat running down my cheeks and neck. Bright days come and I’m sitting by myself talking to the doll that’s underneath my bed. Constantly shaking like a blender, i then decide to open up the curtains.

Days like these make me want to rip my heart off my chest and then fix all the darkness that it has consumed. Entering the room, I opened my eyes and closed my mind, not wanting to overthink but I wanted to see every soul. Furiously closing my hands; feeling the nails cut right through my skin. Grinding my teeth while they break piece by piece, I then rolled my eyes without even noticing. “Hurray!” I spoke to myself, “I can actually be tough too”.

Irritating, scandalous and pathetic; that’s what I should be thinking about them, but they overpower me, they want to kill me with their harsh words. Just in case I die, I want to be remembered as a friendly, tough, honest and hardworking person. Killing myself right now I will only be remembered as a “hoe,” “easy,”and “weak”. Lack of love, lack of money and lack of spirit are not things you actually desire.

Melancholia creeps when I think about my little angel. Negativity also takes over my mind while I get all of these flashbacks; I was 14 and pregnant. Obsessed with her tiny feet, tiny hands,  the throaty and growling noise of her cry, and her beautiful big brown eyes. Panicking over how to become a dad and a mom, all in one, made me anxious and preoccupied of my baby’s future. Questions that I asked myself were the type of questions that I had to answer to my kid; “how can I raise a child when I’m still a child” I frequently ask myself. Reality then hits me like a ton of bricks; I have to now learn how to cook, find a job that pays me good enough to pay a babysitter  in order for me to keep up with my education, and wake up an hour earlier to get my bag ready.

Staying on this bed by myself after two days of giving birth have reduced my appetite and concentration, also, I’ve been having problems sleeping; all i think about is how to succeed as a single mother. Terrific moments must come before i grab that syringe and just stab my throat off my neck. Unforgettable experiences hunt me down when i look at the scars and bruises, through them I see the reflection of her father. Victim to my own love and desires. Worthless is the word that I imagine when I see that man whore son of a bitch !!! talking about getting me back. X are the amount of chances that I gave him. Yes, I may sound weak and pathetic but I feel like I want to drown in my own tears; images of this innocent ball of energy that i call my daughter appear every time. Zero is the number of men that are ever going to hurt my fragile heart, ever again.

She Eats Apples

You're required to see She Eats Apples. You can find the schedule on the Theatre Dept.'s website. The price is $3 w/ a QCC ID (there is one $1 matinee performance). The play is in the Shadowbox Theatre in Bldg Z. You will write a 1-p response which is due on the last day of class, 12/12 (please attach your ticket stub as proof of your attendance).