Letter of Reflection

The biggest difficulty when writing this short play was creating complex characters with clear motives for why they were doing what they were doing. Instead of just creating shallow characters without strong motives driving them, I aimed at creating complex people who experienced inner conflict and show a growth of some kind. I am most proud of finishing a play and not giving up on it. I never thought I would be able to have a finished play and be happy with the result. I would like to do some sort of reading of the play, even if it is not staged, to hear my words on actors, so I can see what works and what does not work as much.

Reflection

I have really enjoyed working on longer works this quarter. It has allowed me to dive deeply into each character and explore their complexities. I find it more useful to work on a longer piece rather than many smaller ones because I can perfect and refine my play. I have achieved my goal of finishing the play by the end of third quarter, and I am happy with the result. The most difficult part of this quarter was making the language sound natural rather than scripted. I want the characters to seem realistic to the audience. If I were to make a performance out of this short play, I would stage it in a small theatre so that the audience members felt immersed in the action. After first speaking to Dr. Totland, my characters have become much more rounded out and I have explored the different sides of them. I am happy with my polished draft and look forward to others reading it.

Old As Time and Forever Young

Day after day,

We wish all of our cares away

Fighting the things we feel

Pushing them deep, deep, deep down

Hoping that if we keep burying them farther and farther

We won’t be able to find them.

But, what we never learn is that the farther we bury,

The closer those feelings are to our hearts.

Prospectus

Description of the Project:

I began writing this piece during the playwriting workshop we did back in November. I really enjoyed writing this scene, so I decided to continue refining and revising it. I would like to continue making revisions and expanding the scene a bit more.

Characters:

Mr. Z: an older, more experienced member of the group.

Mr. X: a cool, easy going younger member who usually keeps quiet and follows orders.

Mr. Y: an energetic but slimy younger member; a bit older than Mr. X.

Officer Calvin: a young police officer being held hostage.

Synopsis:

A group of men meet at a warehouse after a heist. Mr. X has taken a police officer hostage because the heist did not go as planned. Mr. X explains to Mr. Z that he could never kill anybody because he would never be able to stand the guilt. He can’t stand seeing another man being tortured.

The men believe the police may have followed them to the warehouse, so Mr. X and Mr. Y begin packing up as Mr. Z takes out his revenge on the officer that is being held hostage. Mr. Z reveals that he remembers this officer because he paralyzed his brother. As Mr. Z tortures Officer Calvin, Mr. X shoots Mr. Z. He lets the officer go and, realizing what he has done, crumbles to the floor holding Mr. Z in his arms.

Thoughts on Semester Two

I would like to explore screenwriting and/or continue to work on playwriting during the second semester. I think it would be nice to spend a long period of time working and honing in on one bigger project rather than a number of smaller ones at once. I also think working with Dr. Totland again this semester would be really beneficial so that the class can dive deeper into playwriting and understand how to add more depth and complexity to our characters and storytelling.

Reflection

        Overall, I have really enjoyed the first semester of Creative Writing. I love being able to come to school each morning and just write. I think this first semester has taught me a lot about my writing skills and how to hone that creativity in my writing. I think I have come a long way in my sentence level writing and in my ability to explore my ideas fully. Writing has never felt very natural to me, but after being in this class for a semester, I feel like it has become something I really enjoy and could see myself venturing deeper into. 

My favorite part of this semester was definitely the playwriting workshop. Although I have always been passionate about the performing arts and will continue to study theatre in college next year, I never thought about exploring the writing aspect of it. I feel that playwriting is a form of creativity that I really connected to and can excel in if I continue to write and explore it. At first, I found it hard to start off a play and create characters that an audience could connect to. However, once I began with a vague objective for a character, ideas just came to me pretty naturally. Looking back on it, my story is very complex and unique; however, I think those ideas have always been in my head, but I have not yet had the chance to actually write them out. My form of storytelling is through actors on a stage, rather than through my own voice. I think because I have been so inspired by other incredible pieces of theatre, I can connect to that form of telling a story: through diving in to the emotional state of a character.

I hope to continue playwriting next semester and maybe even create a piece for the One Acts. Whether finishing the piece that I have already begun, or creating something totally different, I think it would be an amazing challenge for me to create a piece for my peers to perform and in front of an actual audience.

Memoir

It was my oldest cousin’s wedding day. This was the first wedding I had ever attended and my whole family from my mother’s side was reunited for the first time. I was eight years old and my family traveled to all the way to the English country side for a week of celebration and happiness.

            My huge English family (my mum had four brothers and three sisters) drove to the ceremony in a pack black Mercedes-Benz’. It was raining out and everyone was frantically running around trying to keep dry.

            The church we drove down to was in the middle of the beautiful English town of Weymouth. I swear everyone in Weymouth knew each other, something I was not used to living in Los Angeles where people don’t even know their neighbor’s names. The church had beautiful pointed arches and seemed even more beautiful in the harsh rain.

            When my cousin exited the car, she illuminated the misty air. It’s funny, I used to hate brides. My mum always tells me stories of how I used to cover my eyes in horror every time we would drive by a bridal party getting their photos taken in the Beverly Hills Park. But when my cousin walked up the stairs to the church, I wasn’t frightened at all, I was even drawn to how magical she looked.

            The ceremony seemed to go on and on and on. As an eight-year-old you can imagine how long a traditional English wedding might seem.

            Cut to the after party. My aunt and uncle’s beautiful seaside home turned into a castle for the night. People were dancing, drinking, and letting go. I remember a relative that I had never met, clearly having a few too many glasses of champagne,  came up to me accusing me that I had a glass of red wine in my hand. I was eight. I said “No, it’s Coke.” She took my glass, through the straw on the ground, and gulped down the entire drink until there was nothing but ice left. “Oh, you’re right,” she said as she handed me the glass and walked toward the bar.

            Cut to the next morning. Silence. I woke up and noticed my mum was already up. I tiptoed out of my room, stopped in my tracks, and tried to listen if I could hear any voices in this old mansion.

            I made my way to the kitchen, knowing that every morning my aunt is in there making tea and big breakfasts for everyone.