wow i've had a week off of school to get all this creative writing shit done and i've just been playing overwatch and doing nothing at the mall since i have no money
on the bright side the speculative fiction story is going pretty well, the story takes place over the course of a week and i'm already on wednesday. i feel like this is going way too fast to include every little cute and effective moment in the story to truly make a reader feel something and understand the relationship of my characters and develop them
writing is so hard pls
i honestly cannot wait for spring break so i can sleep
literally this whole break i've absolutely destroyed my sleep schedule (not like i had one before) and now im basically nocturnal
pls pray for me
Sunday, February 26, 2017
Wednesday, February 15, 2017
speculative fiction - title: ???
So, in my lovely Creative Writing class, we are focusing on speculative fiction. Fiction based on realities different than ours, speculative. One of the prompts that Ms.Gamzon gave us was "What if you had 24 hours to live?"
I was intrigued, I was shook. I was always so worried and fascinated with the whole concept of death that I was excited to write about this. 24 hours seemed too short to fit a whole short story in (8 pages or so??/) so I'm feeling about making it during an entire week, a longer time period for plot and development.
Oh, the idea?
I really like books about vanilla young love and just teenage experiences, so I thought about this average boy who lives a normal life but is a Grandfather. These are beings who can live hundreds of years longer than the average human. He's so used to his boring everyday life that when he falls for this girl who is not a Grandfather (mother??? um) that time seems so limited with her. He eventually realizes that he can't be with her forever. There's still some kinks to work out since I started this like a week ago so stay tuned
ok bye
I was intrigued, I was shook. I was always so worried and fascinated with the whole concept of death that I was excited to write about this. 24 hours seemed too short to fit a whole short story in (8 pages or so??/) so I'm feeling about making it during an entire week, a longer time period for plot and development.
Oh, the idea?
I really like books about vanilla young love and just teenage experiences, so I thought about this average boy who lives a normal life but is a Grandfather. These are beings who can live hundreds of years longer than the average human. He's so used to his boring everyday life that when he falls for this girl who is not a Grandfather (mother??? um) that time seems so limited with her. He eventually realizes that he can't be with her forever. There's still some kinks to work out since I started this like a week ago so stay tuned
ok bye
Wednesday, February 8, 2017
♥♥ the top ten rules of writing ♥♥
If you didn't know, i am a creative writing major at my school. I'm taught lessons about grammar and writing in the real world. Although these courses are essential in understanding the fundamentals of becoming an artist of literature, there are more subtle rules given to us by published and successful writers.
Two of the most basic things that new writers must understand is, "Never Use a Long Word When a Short One Will Do." and "Read A Lot." These are important because they are so basic. Starting out, some may think that big words means that they are smarter, whether or not they truly understand the meaning of it. You'll want to use extravagant instead of grand, unfathomable instead of unbelievable. You must understand your audience because these words may just add unnecessary flare and confuse your readers.
Reading is also needed when you're a writer. Reading your work after a few pages of writing can save yourself from errors and punctuation errors. Reading doesn't just apply to your own work, reading other author's writing can be beneficial since it might give you examples to implement into your own writing. Examples as in sentence structure or topics, not the full blown story in another way of saying it. Plagiarism is bad, kids.
There was like 8 other ones that were in the list that were given out by writers but I feel like these 2 are required before going on.
Now, let's talk about my favorite subject, Me. Thank you, thank you. I might sound like a hypocrite for talking about other people reading and how important it is, yet I haven't voluntarily read a book in about 3 years. It's pretty much my fault, but it's also the non diverse stories in the young adult category. It's all just, pretty and skinny white girl has powers and she's clumsy. She get's caught in a love triangle and has to save the world in some way. (Looking at you, The Fifth Wave.) I feel like one of the best authors writing for a younger audience is John Green. Author of The Fault in Our Stars and Paper Towns, I actually enjoyed both the movie and the book. These narratives offer a new perspective to life; a cancer patient, a loser waiting for a miracle. Maybe the side characters might be a little one dimensional (The horny boy from Paper Towns) but overall, the stories are good. This section kind of went off track, but hey, I need to practice more on reading books.
On the outside, I might seem like this fruity little asian boy who likes making memes and jokes, but I actually do have a passion for writing. There's just something captivating about text that can't be put into words. (maybe its the other way around idk) So yeah, read more, humble yourself.
xoxo gossip girl
Two of the most basic things that new writers must understand is, "Never Use a Long Word When a Short One Will Do." and "Read A Lot." These are important because they are so basic. Starting out, some may think that big words means that they are smarter, whether or not they truly understand the meaning of it. You'll want to use extravagant instead of grand, unfathomable instead of unbelievable. You must understand your audience because these words may just add unnecessary flare and confuse your readers.
Reading is also needed when you're a writer. Reading your work after a few pages of writing can save yourself from errors and punctuation errors. Reading doesn't just apply to your own work, reading other author's writing can be beneficial since it might give you examples to implement into your own writing. Examples as in sentence structure or topics, not the full blown story in another way of saying it. Plagiarism is bad, kids.
There was like 8 other ones that were in the list that were given out by writers but I feel like these 2 are required before going on.
Now, let's talk about my favorite subject, Me. Thank you, thank you. I might sound like a hypocrite for talking about other people reading and how important it is, yet I haven't voluntarily read a book in about 3 years. It's pretty much my fault, but it's also the non diverse stories in the young adult category. It's all just, pretty and skinny white girl has powers and she's clumsy. She get's caught in a love triangle and has to save the world in some way. (Looking at you, The Fifth Wave.) I feel like one of the best authors writing for a younger audience is John Green. Author of The Fault in Our Stars and Paper Towns, I actually enjoyed both the movie and the book. These narratives offer a new perspective to life; a cancer patient, a loser waiting for a miracle. Maybe the side characters might be a little one dimensional (The horny boy from Paper Towns) but overall, the stories are good. This section kind of went off track, but hey, I need to practice more on reading books.
On the outside, I might seem like this fruity little asian boy who likes making memes and jokes, but I actually do have a passion for writing. There's just something captivating about text that can't be put into words. (maybe its the other way around idk) So yeah, read more, humble yourself.
xoxo gossip girl
Monday, February 6, 2017
♥♥ my very first entry for this damn blog ♥♥
The crowd marched on in grim silence. The gigantic gate was newly installed just for us. At a glance, you would think that we were nothing. Small eyed people, smart, like math. You would have no idea that we were parading to our own graves. I gripped the cloth handle of my bag. We were told we were being brought to this camp on an extremely short notice, I brought a couple shoes, a book of blank paper, a compact of charcoal and pencils, and a small bag filled with money I earned over the summer. The summer seemed so free. Just melting ice cream and wind brushing through your hair. Now our summer was gone.
My mother was not the cookie cutter model that Hollywood had brought out for our race; the nerd, the store owner, the bullied. Our family told stories of her accomplishments like secrets rushing around a schoolyard. She looked straight on with tired eyes, wrinkles bloomed from her eyes like a bouquet of smiles and her hair fell down her shoulders like a waterfall. Her skin was a blanket of fresh snow. I didn't hear her laugh that much these days anymore, the sudden news of our imprisonment had turned all of us for the worse.
Following shortly behind me was my sister, Lelani. My mother thought that the name would be nice like a flower. Lelani's smooth hair was like my mother's and she had the eyes of an owl. I could tell she was tired of walking and just wanted to go home. That was one thing that I could not bring our family. For this was our new home, this dismal place made of fresh concrete and slanted walls built in a mere month. I wasn't a stranger to such racism.
They lined us up by age and gender, they measured our bodies and tested us for sickness of other imperfections. This woman shined a light into my eye and smiled, meet me in the infirmary for some fun later she said. I wasn't very interested, she was probably just bored and wanted to play with fresh blood, and I also didn't play that team. This whole process was torture. I kept trying to remind myself of the temporary nature of this situation, but in reality; we weren't going anywhere.
A few hours later, I finally met up with my sister and my mother. They assigned us a small cabin near the water supply in a nice patch of dying sunlight. Lelani sat quietly on the very uncomfortable bed with her package of candy that she had brought from home. It was to be expected though, children are so attached to their play things no matter how strange the object was.
My mother sat on the uneven counter and sighed, throwing her hair behind her shoulders and rubbing her eyes. I didn't know what would become of us, this new home of ours. This wasn't exactly the best home for any human being, I felt like this camp was a menagerie. I was the first to speak.
"This isn't so bad, is it?" I tried to lighten the mood. Lelani was about 5 and she could understand how to tell someone that she didn't want them talking. "This is horrible." My mother started. "Why are we being treated like this?" I put my hand on her shoulder and sighed. "I think it's just for a little while. They just kinda don't trust us because of our race." I didn't know what I was saying from that moment on.
My mother was not the cookie cutter model that Hollywood had brought out for our race; the nerd, the store owner, the bullied. Our family told stories of her accomplishments like secrets rushing around a schoolyard. She looked straight on with tired eyes, wrinkles bloomed from her eyes like a bouquet of smiles and her hair fell down her shoulders like a waterfall. Her skin was a blanket of fresh snow. I didn't hear her laugh that much these days anymore, the sudden news of our imprisonment had turned all of us for the worse.
Following shortly behind me was my sister, Lelani. My mother thought that the name would be nice like a flower. Lelani's smooth hair was like my mother's and she had the eyes of an owl. I could tell she was tired of walking and just wanted to go home. That was one thing that I could not bring our family. For this was our new home, this dismal place made of fresh concrete and slanted walls built in a mere month. I wasn't a stranger to such racism.
They lined us up by age and gender, they measured our bodies and tested us for sickness of other imperfections. This woman shined a light into my eye and smiled, meet me in the infirmary for some fun later she said. I wasn't very interested, she was probably just bored and wanted to play with fresh blood, and I also didn't play that team. This whole process was torture. I kept trying to remind myself of the temporary nature of this situation, but in reality; we weren't going anywhere.
A few hours later, I finally met up with my sister and my mother. They assigned us a small cabin near the water supply in a nice patch of dying sunlight. Lelani sat quietly on the very uncomfortable bed with her package of candy that she had brought from home. It was to be expected though, children are so attached to their play things no matter how strange the object was.
My mother sat on the uneven counter and sighed, throwing her hair behind her shoulders and rubbing her eyes. I didn't know what would become of us, this new home of ours. This wasn't exactly the best home for any human being, I felt like this camp was a menagerie. I was the first to speak.
"This isn't so bad, is it?" I tried to lighten the mood. Lelani was about 5 and she could understand how to tell someone that she didn't want them talking. "This is horrible." My mother started. "Why are we being treated like this?" I put my hand on her shoulder and sighed. "I think it's just for a little while. They just kinda don't trust us because of our race." I didn't know what I was saying from that moment on.
Wednesday, February 1, 2017
its britney bitch
hi, my name is joshua phonharath. (caution: curse words!!111!!!)
i really don't care if i put my name out there bc i hate myself already and the link to my blog is literally my name
but hi
my ethnicity is ~laotian~ (next to vietnam and thailand) and i am from here i didnt hop the border or whatever
im an edgy 14 year old who goes to School of the Arts and is a Creative Writing Major.
i was kind of excited to do this when Mr. Craddock said we would have blogs and whatever and i was pumped
i thought it was gonna be like fucking tumblr or something but no it's kind of boring rn and
~for my work as a writer~
okay that was too much of me trying to sound cool
i like writing stories and poetry sometimes (pretty often since this is my major idk)
i am small please dont attack me for small shit like run on sentences or maybe i use too many commas at one point
or maybe you're mad that i'm cursing too much somewhere and i need proper parenting and need to watch my language young man
im pretty cool haha lmao
i'm probably gonna be on here pretty often bc i see this as my twitter or something where i can just post any thought that i have
ive been told that i shouldnt do something like this bc i seem immature but i literally watch curious george and i am 14 (my birthday is july 23rd haha send me nice things)
so now the ~fun facts~
- my biological mom is melanie martinez and my adoptive mom is halsey (mom is an endearing term bc i love them)
- can you guess my sexuality ;) :0:0:)::)):
- i like my coffee with lots of cream and sugar so its not bitter like the people who drink it black
-sometimes i draw nice things
-i hate anime
-i laugh alot
-my favorite season(s) include fall/winter because its white and aesthetic and cold. like, if its cold you can wrap up in a warm blanket next to the heater with a nice hot drink but in the heat you cant do anything in heat without like an air conditioner or else you'll just want to rip your skin off
-i play overwatch on pc and widowmaker is my queen(my battle tag is: 1373)
-i love dogs!!!
-im like 50 years old on the inside
-i think toddlers are awesome bc they just want to have fun and scream but kids dont like me prob bc im ugly)
links:
tumblr: http://joshuapls.tumblr.com/
twitter: (coming soon bc i might get attacked on this blog and i dont want it in my social media)
snapchat: (coming soon bc i might get attacked on this blog and i dont want it in my social media)
im joshua and you're watching disney channel
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