What If: I could tell My Story like Marlow did his?

First things first, I know I'm barking up a confusing, potentially intellectually dangerous, and possibly impossible tree, so please, just bear with me. Thank you...

What if I told my life's story like Marlow? My first thought is that I would break it up into some smaller paragraphs; I've never realized before realized how big of a favor the use of more than one or two indents per page the author did for me. But that's besides the point.

Struggles and Aspirations
For most of my life I've been telling stories. As my friends can tell you, and judging by the quality I feel like I express my ideas in class (and even sometimes in writing), I often do a less than stellar job of telling them. Be that as it may, if there was one story which I really wanted to come out the way it sounded in my head, in a way that I knew people would be interested, I know I would want that story to be my story. Obviously, everybody has their own unique story with which they choose to share (or not) with those who they interact with (or don't share, for that matter). But what I've come to realize is that not all people who I think are interesting have an oncredibly riventing story to tell, but the way they tell it can and often does make me want to hear what they have to say. I think about Conrad telling his story in Heart of Darkness via Marlow because he does exactly what I aspire to do (well, besides the paragraphing)--holding the reader's attention by dropping subtle hints through seemingly meaningless details that end up describing an important and noteworthy lesson that makes them crave words off my pages until the the very last page. Yes, I just admitted my jealousy for Conrad and Marlow.

Function
Not only did I understand what I hope to achieve in telling my story, but I also discovered along the way what the power of a story has. One's story is like a projection, or a window distinguishing oneself from the judgemental and belittling world around them. In fact, people liking you for "who you really are" is largely tied up in your ability to tell a riveting and multi-layered story, which is always unfolding, might I add.

Toolbox
We have recently been discussing in class the essential roles which multiplicity, irony, and ambiguity play in Heart of Darkness--elements that a well relayed story absolutely requires. Something I've been trying to work on is trying to get people to realize and distinguish between the surface level and the more intellectual level of my story without saying it outright or making it inherently obvious that that is the message which I am trying to convey. This is the job of irony. In other words, I seek to drop multiple breadcrumbs rather than full-on pave a path more my listeners. On ambiguity, we should strive not to make our stories incomprehensible sophisticated or perplexing, but complicated enough, while maintaining our voice, to make them work to understand what it is we are really trying to say. Both of the above things are things we as storytellers can do on our own. However, the lt element requires the aid of other perspectives, or multiplicity. I very much enjoyed the way Conrad layered in subordinate narrators to remind the reader that the primary narrator, Marlow wasn't omniscient and that he was in fact human and biased in his opinions. I'm not saying we need to use the same story-writing techniques as Conrad did for Marlow, but covering multiple dimensions of the story and using this variety as a building block for what one hopes to accomplish by telling their story is something we, as fallible and biased humans like Marlow, could apply.

It's the Little Things
Lastly, I think it's important to figure out what goes into your story, because what comes out is almost completely dependent on what you put in. Your story doesn't have to consist of these life-changing events that make you sound sophisticated because in the end, it makes you sound incomplete. What I mean by this that the story worthy material may just be discussion of a good laugh, or a good cry, or a small moment that you helped someone else out. I believe this to be story worthy material because actions speak louder than the fabricated connection I see and hear between an internal shift and an "important" event.

No matter what, though, you have to have a story. Yes, a story is must. So gather round the campfire we call life and start talking. You've been quiet for too long.

Blogging Around (Revised)

I thought it would be interesting to compare my own poetry writing experience to that of my brilliant classmates and was very, very impressed and interested in what ai read in both Nonie's and Nish's Metacognition: poetry writing blogs. Just to preface things, I was particularly stunned at the very different approaches these students took in the similar situation of being "stuck" and desperate for substance, a situation I also found myself in. In conjunction with this idea, both of their strategies to overcoming the "poetic walls", as Nishanth said, demonstrated a high-level and crucial knowledge of oneself and how being able to take a step back and assess what they're missing made their poem way better than they could have imagined.

Nonie,

That was one very interesting and striking expression of your feelings about the process of your poem. There are certain elements of your post to which I can't totally relate, the cross-over to the music world or being motivated almost completely by the grade (although it is a motivator for sure), but I totally agree with the underlying message originally conveyed by your guitar teacher in seventh grade.

I think everyone in our class can relate to working hard at one thing or another. And while the "rolling around like a pig in mud" in the middle of the room while trying to write and painstakingly improve the darn thing is part of the process which I experienced as well, I wasn't as clever as you were in resetting mind and body to the mode of poetic thinking.

The Giving Tree is obviously a comfort of yours. As writers, and poets especially, we have an obligation to take risks, but just as important is our ability to build atop what we already know and something that we feel secure about, that thing being that very special book in your case. Knowing yourself as a worker and poet definitely helped you in this case because by resorting to an old but not forgotten comfort, you established an inspiration. And, although you may not have ridden that inspiration OT the end of your process, it ended up feeding your willingness to perspire throughout the actual writing of your poem--a willingness that I, and probably some of our classmates, undoubtedly could have used.

I will definitely keep in mind this simple, yet completely true message when I decide to embark on a difficult and oftentimes frustrating journey, especially in the context of my writing. Nice work!

_________________________________________________________________________________

Nish,

Quite the analysis of the poem-writing and discovery process you have done here, much of which that I can relate my own process to. From what it sounds like, both of our poems originally lent themselves to clichés initially, a difficult and frustrating problem to overcome. We also realized that we needed to include more imagery in an effective and creative manner, but I, among many of my Academy classmates, struggled with this concept in the elementary versions of our poems. Another element our poems have in common is that we both somewhat drew from "The Fish" for its poetic techniques.


In the later paragraphs of this blog, I especially like how you discussed the issue of facing multiple walls over multiple drafts and how you eventually realized the importance of squeezing every last ounce of power out of the poetic tools you had. Like you, I experienced the same feeling of "this is the best that it can be" after my conference with Mr. Allen too, but I was particularly struck by how you approached the clearing of that hurdle in the process--by taking a walk in the forest and looking for ways to improve your poem. As I found with my poem, relating to and experiencing the poem, whether visually, like me, or physically, like you, is crucial in order to develop it further. I suppose that I was impressed by your willingness to fully throw yourself into the experience and delve headlong into the poem's meaning by experiencing the out of doors on your lonesome; I think it's what any good poet would and should do if they were "against the wall", so to speak. Recalling your poem from the reading during class, it sounds like you did end up solving many of the problems you faced during the various stages of your poem. And indeed, from a more future-oriented perspective, it sounds like you capitalized on those struggles to make not only that specific poem better, but also future poetry and most definitely other pieces of writing you construct. I tip my hat to you, sir.

Blogging Around #2--Noreen Andersen's "Metacognition: Inspiration, Then Perspiration" Repsonse

Nonie,

That was one very interesting and striking expression of your feelings about the process of your poem. There are certain elements of your post to which I can't totally relate, the cross-over to the music world or being motivated almost completely by the grade (although it is a motivator for sure), but I totally agree with the underlying message originally conveyed by your guitar teacher in seventh grade.

I think everyone in our class can relate to working hard at one thing or another. And while the "rolling around like a pig in mud" in the middle of the room while trying to write and painstakingly improve the darn thing is part of the process which I experienced as well, I wasn't as clever as you were in resetting mind and body to the mode of poetic thinking.

The Giving Tree is obviously a comfort of yours. As writers, and poets especially, we have an obligation to take risks, but just as important is our ability to build atop what we already know and something that we feel secure about, that thing being that very special book in your case. Knowing yourself as a worker and poet definitely helped you in this case because by resorting to an old but not forgotten comfort, you established an inspiration. And, although you may not have ridden that inspiration OT the end of your process, it ended up feeding your willingness to perspire throughout the actual writing of your poem--a willingness that I, and probably some of our classmates, undoubtedly could have used.

I will definitely keep in mind this simple, yet completely true message when I decide to embark on a difficult and oftentimes frustrating journey, especially in the context of my writing. Nice work!

Blogging Around #1--Nishanth's "Metacognition: The Poetic Walls" Repsonse

Nish,

Quite the analysis of the poem-writing and discovery process you have done here, much of which that I can relate my own process to. From what it sounds like, both of our poems originally lent themselves to clichés initially, a difficult and frustrating problem to overcome. We also realized that we needed to include more imagery in an effective and creative manner, but I, among many of my Academy classmates, struggled with this concept in the elementary versions of our poems. Another element our poems have in common is that we both somewhat drew from "The Fish" for its poetic techniques.


In the later paragraphs of this blog, I especially like how you discussed the issue of facing multiple walls over multiple drafts and how you eventually realized the importance of squeezing every last ounce of power out of the poetic tools you had. Like you, I experienced the same feeling of "this is the best that it can be" after my conference with Mr. Allen too, but I was particularly struck by how you approached the clearing of that hurdle in the process--by taking a walk in the forest and looking for ways to improve your poem. As I found with my poem, relating to and experiencing the poem, whether visually, like me, or physically, like you, is crucial in order to develop it further. I suppose that I was impressed by your willingness to fully throw yourself into the experience and delve headlong into the poem's meaning by experiencing the out of doors on your lonesome; I think it's what any good poet would and should do if they were "against the wall", so to speak. Recalling your poem from the reading during class, it sounds like you did end up solving many of the problems you faced during the various stages of your poem. And indeed, from a more future-oriented perspective, it sounds like you capitalized on those struggles to make not only that specific poem better, but also future poetry and most definitely other pieces of writing you construct. I tip my hat to you, sir.