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inkykeiji · 3 years

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uhm hi,, i wanted to ask how you deal with pressure, stress and lack of inspiration...... i ask because i have to write a history essay and i feel like i spend more time crying than actually writing this... it’s just so hard and the effects suck it looks like shit,, i really appreciate you as a writer and i just you know wanted to ask for help.. i dont know what to do and how to do that and i want to know if you sometimes also feel like this and if you do how you overcome this. i am sorry for this ask and if that makes u uncomfy in any way you dont have to answer it... also happy egg:)

aaah hello sweetpea!! <33 oh no bb okay okay i’m gonna try and help as best i can!! warning: VERY long post beneath the cut!! <33

aaaaaaah bb okay first of all, i’m so sorry you’re feeling this way :( ‘i feel like i spend more time crying than actually writing this’ oh my precious i know this feeling and i have definitely had my fair share of breakdowns over assignments during my time at university!!

it absolutely is so hard to get your work done when you’re feeling so yucky. it turns into a very vicious cycle where you’re upset/anxious because you have no motivation, which in turn makes you upset/anxious with the work, upset/anxious at the fact that you ARE upset/anxious, etc etc etc. it all feeds into each other and makes everything that much more chaotic.

first, let’s calm down, okay?

the first thing i want you to do is take some very big, very deep breaths—even better if you can a very short little video you can follow or try out some of the exercises in articles such as this and this (some of the exercises in those articles overlap but it’ll give you a general idea!!). but if you feel too anxious to even do those, just take some biiiiiig big big deep, breaths for me. if you’re crying, try to calm your sobs through your breathing. this doesn’t have to be for long, i just want you to breathe a little!! just for a minute or two!!

now i want you to remind yourself that it is okay to feel stressed out over this, your feelings are VERY valid and very normal. i also want you to remind yourself that, while your grade may be important to you (mine were very very important and special to me!!) it still does not dictate your worth or your intelligence, and it is not a life or death situation. i’m not sure if this applies to you as well, but i personally have an issue with ‘catastrophizing’ when stuff like this happens to me, so it always helps just to keep these things in mind. if you do bad, it isn’t the end of the world, i absolutely promise you. it may feel like it’s a massive deal right now, but in the grand scheme of your life this is just a lil history paper!! just a tiny little blip in the masterpiece of your life!! it’s okay if you don’t do as well as you hoped; you are trying and that is the most important thing. you are doing your best under these current circumstances, and this will serve as a learning experience either way!!

now, let’s figure out a strategy to get it done!!

as for how i dealt with this in uni, i liked to (and still do, with big tasks!!) break everything down into easier-to-manage pieces. if you haven’t, make a bare bones outline for your essay; just your paragraphs and general arguments for each; nothing crazy or extensive. if you’ve already done this, do it again; write it out physically on one piece of paper so you can see/’visualize’ the entire thing from a birds eye POV. don’t worry about it being shit, just organize the general structure of your outline at this stage. push through those thoughts that are telling you it isn’t good!!!

for me, i usually break this outline into pieces after i’ve made it. we’ll use the example of an essay since that’s what you’re dealing with right now. having outlines for everything is what works the best for me, so i would take each body paragraph and break it down into my main arguments and evidence supporting them. so for example (and don’t laugh at my hypothetical essay here hehehe):

thesis: dabi and tomura are the best bnha characters because x, y, z.

paragraph one:

✰ ARGUMENT: dabi is the best bnha character

✰ EVIDENCE: x, y, and z

paragraph two:

✰ ARGUMENT: tomura is the best bnha villain

✰ EVIDENCE: x, y, and z

and so on. i don’t know how much time you have left until the essay is due, but if you’re really in crunch mode only spend an hour or so on this. for me, making these little outlines of the entire essay/piece and then of each paragraph itself helped me feel a lot more organized and in control, and it also enabled me to see how much i had left to do. i like to physically write these out, because for whatever reason i find it easier to comprehend if its on a sheet of paper/in a notebook.

the other thing i do is TAKE BREAKS. even if i was pulling an all-nighter to get an essay done, i would still promise myself a 10-15 minute break after completing a paragraph or two. it helped me stay motivated, knowing that i’d get to eat a quick snack, or watch a quick video (or fan edits!!) or listen to a song or two just to relax for a moment before diving back in. try and stay AWAY from social media during these breaks unless you have very good self-discipline. i had to be very strict with myself, though: any time i would start to tear up, or get distracted, or get caught up in my thoughts, i’d sternly tell myself that i can stress about it later/this time right now is dedicated to my essay and essay ONLY, so i must use all of my focus and brainpower on my essay until the next paragraph is done. does that make sense??? it requires a certain level of self-discipline, but you CAN develop this, and the best way to develop it is through practice!!

if you aren’t pulling an all-nighter (finger’s crossed that you aren’t!!) your breaks can be even longer. sometimes, though, we even get in the flow and *in the zone* once we begin writing, and sometimes you don’t even want/need those breaks because your brain is flowing well, and then you can just power through it until you DO need a break. it all heavily depends on your situation!! make these decisions at your own discretion <3 whatever works for you, works for you!

motivation for work you really, really don’t want to do, or work that makes you extremely anxious, can be very hard to find, but i promise you that you are very capable!! dig deep inside of yourself and find the strength to push through it, because you CAN. it IS possible!! you will get this essay done, and then it’ll be over and you can move on with your life!!

there is absolutely no reason to apologize bb don’t even worry about it <33 happy egg my sweet anon!!! i hope this helps you out at least a little <3 these are just the strategies that work for me personally—everyone is different especially when it comes to work flow, but i hope these provide you with at least some guidance <3 either way please know that you are absolutely not alone in this feeling; everyone i know has experienced a similar situation in college/university. school can be so fucking stressful it’s ridiculous. keep in mind that this essay does not in any way define you or your worth, and that you CAN do it <3 i believe in you and i am cheering you on!! HAPPY EGG BABIE!!!!

#AH I TRIED TO ANSWER THIS AS FAST AS I COULD #I HOPE YOU SEE IT #SORRY IT'S SO LONG #BUT I TRULY HOPE IT HELPS #IM SENDING YOU SOOOO MUCH LOVE AND STRENGTH SWEETPEA #YOU'VE GOT THIS I PROMISE YOU <33333 #you can do it!!!!! you will do it!!!!#kick that essay in the ass and then you can move on with your life!!!#it's okay! you're okay! you are going to be okay!#i love u <333 #sweet anon 🥺#clari gets mail

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she-is-tim · 5 years

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Will you catch me if I fall for you?

Elu Marvel AU

mostly written for @anxetyt1me and everyone else that are going to enjoy this

Summary:

Eliott is an ambitious archer boy who decides to join the Avengers when an opportunity crosses his way. Little does he know that his heart is going to be captured by one of the twins HYDRA experimented on. Lucas and his twin sister Manon just survived the attack of Ultron in Sokovia, but they are already training to become Avengers. The boy is a cheeky bastard who likes playing games. This time his target is Eliott and he can always get what he wants.

Enjoy *finger guns*

Eliott knew the compound will be huge, he saw it on tv, but he was still in shock as he got out of his taxi. He paid for the ride, it wasn’t cheap, but he was willing to sacrifice all he had just to get here. He grabbed the strap of the quiver attached to his torso, feeling the weight of the steel arrows and his bow pulling him down. It felt like his legs were turned into concrete, heavy and immovable. Every step was like an eternity, his palms started sweating as he made his way inside the gigantic front yard towards the Avengers building. There was a chopper on his right, just waiting on the parking spot, ready to fly away at anytime. He knew the people who lived inside wouldn’t use it, they had flying supersuits, special wings, superpowers and quinjets. They liked to make a fancy entrance, especially Tony Stark. Not like any of this mattered in this exact moment.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, continuing his road towards the front of the building. Feet still heavy, heart thumping, threatening to burst out of his chest. Now that would be a good introduction.

As he got closer, he had to squint his eyes, protecting it from the piercing sunlight that was reflecting from the gigantic windows. The weather was nice, not too hot, soft clouds swimming through the endless, blue pool above. He stopped, looking at his outfit. Black leather, tight and well fitting, belts snaking around his waist, his thighs, keeping his throwing knives - silver ones with handles carved out of bones - safe. Boots perfectly melted on his feet, thick sole, strengthened with steel. Hands covered in leather gloves that let his fingers free, except the index and middle finger on his right one. Designed especially for professional archers like him.

He got kicked out of his thoughts rather literally when a blue flash appeared out of nowhere. During his years of hard practice and training, it was clear that his senses were extraordinary, just like his reflexes, but he still had problems focusing his attention. That’s what made this situation possible where he was laying on the ground, the handle of his bow hardly pressed to his back as a feet on his chest placed pressure on him. Gasping for air he tried to open his eyes, which wasn’t so easy considering the sun was shining right at his face, but then a shadowy silhouette leaned over him. His eyelids fluttered open, trying to take in his surroundings and for a second Eliott was sure it would be less blinding to stare at the sun.

The boy was gorgeous. Fluffy brown hair surrounding a beautiful, smooth face with perfectly curved nose, pink lips and those damn blue eyes. Eliott wasn’t a poetic boy, but he could write long essays about the beauty of just those irises alone. He knew he was staring, mouth agape, not able to form the words, but it seemed like the boy had a clue who he was. With a slight movement he tilted his head to the side, cocking an eyebrow. The smirk that appeared on his face was probably the most beautiful thing Eliott had ever seen, hands down.

“You are the boy Clint is waiting for?” He spoke up and fuck, his voice was soft and smooth like warm honey, having a slight french accent, which just made him 1000 times more attractive. His foot was still pressing the archer boy down, not like he had any problems with it. He could put a leash around his neck, there wouldn’t be a complaint coming from his side.

After long minutes of just staring into each other’s eyes, Eliott realized that there was a question he needed to answer. The boy above him didn’t seemed to be annoyed, on the contrary there was a playful spark in those ocean blue eyes. Trying to take a deep breath wasn’t a good idea considering he was pinned to the ground, but he did anyways, just to help himself find some confidence to speak with this angel.

“Yes…” he muttered, voice sounding rather raspy. “My name is Eliott.” He managed to say it, but he kept finding himself at a loss of words under the gaze of the person above him.

“Welcome to the Avengers compound, pretty boy.” He said, leaning down even more and with that placing more pressure on Eliott’s already hurting chest. “You are going to have fun.” He added with a cheeky smile on his pretty face. Eliott knew he would already do anything for this boy without a single question just to see him smile again. He was pretty much fucked.

“Lucas, what are you doing?” The high pitched voice came from where the entrance of the gigantic building was. Eliott could see the outlines of a girl, slim body, wearing black skirt, a grey shirt with a scarlet red jacket. Her curly hair was like a brown waterfall, surrounding a pretty face. Eliott could notice the similarities between her and the boy, Lucas’ features, not mentioning the soft French accent of both.

“Nothing.” He replied and within a blink of an eye the pressure was gone from Eliott’s chest.

He could only see the blue flash as the angelic boy returned to his sister. Now he knew who they were, the Lallemant Twins, Lucas and Manon. Orphans that were used by the psychopath HYDRA scientists, experimenting and torturing them, making them have special powers to then use them as weapons against their enemies. But they got out, sided with the Avengers and helped them defeat the army of Ultron, the crazy robot that tried to drop the city of Sokovia on the Earth to destroy humanity with it. Of course Eliott didn’t know the details, but he had seen a lot of videos, read articles and interviews with people who were there during the battle. Lots of the citizens died or got hurt, it was a hard price to pay for saving everyone else. That’s what it means being an Avenger, Eliott knew it.

He slowly got up from the ground, being sure that his back has a bow handle shaped hole now. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t take his eyes off the boy, who was now having a quiet conversation with his twin sister. He just realized what Lucas was wearing and he just didn’t know how to process that sight. The pants were fine, loose ones, black colored with two white stripes on the sides of his thighs, but the top… He was wearing a well fitting, long sleeved shirt, a combination of dark blue and grey mixing on it with lighting bolt shaped white stripes just on the place where his stomach area started. And it was tight, like really tight.

Without realizing that he started walking forward, he suddenly found himself being close enough to catch some of their talk. It turned out to be difficult to focus on the actual words being said while seeing and hearing Lucas speak. The boy was just so soft and beautiful, Eliott couldn’t believe he actually fought with an army of lethal robots alongside big names like Clint Barton, Thor or Captain America. It just seemed impossible for this soft looking boy to hurt even a fly.

“-cking care what he said, I’m going to handle this one.” Lucas sounded just a little bit frustrated as he was talking to his sister. Manon looked at Eliott over her brother’s shoulder and then let out a frustrated sigh.

“Fine, but I am not going to save your ass from Clint again.” She said and with a smooth movement she spun around on her heels, disappearing behind the glass door.

Eliott just stood there dumbfounded, as the other turned to him, wide smirk plastered to his face. Realization hit like a truck, only noticing now how small the boy in front of him actually was. He could hug him from behind, resting his chin on the top of his head easily. And damn if that didn’t make him want this brunette even more.

“So, why are you here actually?” Lucas asked, trying to sound nonchalant with little success. He opened the door for the tall one who nodded as thanks, walking inside.

~°~

Eliott was glad when they arrived to the training room where Clint Barton waited for them. Their walk was really awkward, at least to him, Lucas seemed to enjoy circling around him, asking the most random things. ‘How old are you?’ ‘Where are you from?’ ‘Are those knives on you thighs?’ ‘Wanna try throwing one at me?’ ‘Is this your natural hair color?’ ‘Can I touch your hair?’ ‘You wanna touch my hair?’ Of course he could barely stutter out a few words, completely embarrassing himself. This was the first time he felt so nervous around someone that he lost his voice and wasn’t able to speak. Usually he had too much confidence, being aware of his looks and skills, but this very short and also very fast boy seemed to make him turn into a shy, stuttering mess.

As he stepped into the huge, empty room made out of steel and concrete. Half of the floor was covered in what looked like auburn linoleum, while the other half had epdm rubber flooring. In the middle stood the guy himself. The person Eliott looked up for ever since he heard the rumors about him. Clint Barton aka Hawkeye, the best archer in the whole world. Hair perfectly styled, oil green shirt loosely hanging on his well trained body, tight jeans wrapped around his legs, tucked into black boots. Suddenly his nervousness got doubled, hands getting sweaty. Lucas stepped forward, putting his hands on his waist. The man squinted his eyes at him before his face broke into a wide smile.

“There you are, you little bastard. I was looking for you.” Cint said, walking to the boy and patting him on the shoulder. “I see you found my visitor.” his eyes wandered towards the tall boy, who had to swallow, wiping off the sweat from his palms.

“Yeah, he’s fun, but very quiet.” Lucas responded, now turning around, another pair of eyes landing gazes on Eliott.

“I… My name is Eliott.” he managed to force out the words. This would be much more easier, if that angelic brunette wouldn’t be there with them in the room.

“Yeah, I know.” Clint said, looking at the boy next to him now. “Leave us alone, Lucas. I think you have training with Nat and Manon today.” he said cocking an eyebrow, sounding like a father who’s talking to his rather stubborn son. It was endearing to see this kind of relationship that Eliott could never had in his life.

His father left him and his mother when he was just a baby, not even bothering to pay child support or visiting his son. He grew up in bad circumstances, struggling with money, which lead his mother to borrow cash from the most shady people. That’s why she ended up with a bullet in her head, that’s why Eliott got captured when he was 12, being tortured and trained to be their deadly assassin. To their bad luck, they couldn’t erase all the memories he shared with the mother they killed, so he waited. When the perfect opportunity came, he killed them all and escaped. Since then he was roaming the countries, leaving Paris and all its filth behind. Until he found out that the Avengers are looking for rookies, training them to become fighters. So he called the number, talked to a few people and now he was here. After long years of suffering, loneliness and fear, he found the place where he can get a reason to live.

He got dragged out of his spiraling thoughts when a blue flash, probably Lucas passed by him, leaving with the feeling of soft fingers brushing through his hair. It was so sudden and unexpected that he almost lost his balance, barely saving himself of landing on his back yet again. That boy really liked to play with him, using his speed to get maximum advantage.

“I’m sorry about the kid.” Spoke Clint now, walking closer to Eliott, who quickly shook his head as weak try to get rid of the clinging feeling of the brunette’s touch. “I guess he’s excited. He is not allowed to leave the compound, so he doesn’t really have the chance to meet new people.” He explained with a soft smile on his face.

“How old is he?” Eliott decided to ask, because he was genuinely curious about the boy. It felt like something inside him was pulling him towards Lucas, like they were connected.

“He’s 17, too young if you ask me.”

“Life doesn’t care how old you are, it just throws shit at your face and expects you to handle it.” Eliott replied, looking at his personal hero, who seemed to be impressed by his words.

“I can’t wait for you to meet Nat, I think she would like you.” He said smirking.

~°~

A whole week passed, filled with long hours of training with either Clint or Natasha. They were really good, like real professionals, which made Eliott realize that his skills weren’t much above average compared to them. But this just kept fueling his determination to become stronger, faster, never missing a shot.

Sometimes as he met Lucas on the hallways or in the kitchen, but they didn’t have much time to talk both of them occupied with their own training. It still couldn’t make the archer boy forget about that soft touch or ignore the way sometimes the other was looking at him. Those ocean blue eyes haunted his dreams, chasing away the usual nightmares he had ever since he slaughtered his torturers. He knew they were bad people, that they deserved to die, if not for their other crimes, then just for killing his innocent mother. And still flashes of spilling blood, echoes of death screams and the sight of lifeless bodies were the only thing he could hear and see once he closed his eyes. Up until he met this gorgeous boy.

It was Tuesday, his usual training were canceled due to a mission both Natasha and Clint had to participate in. Something happened that involved a guy named Brock Rumlow, so Captain Rogers decided to follow the leads. Eliott only had the chance to see the actual big names from afar considering both Tony Stark and Captain America were busy people. He once had a chance to chat with Sam Wilson, he’s a sympathetic dude with great humor, Eliott liked him a lot. Then there was Manon, the quiet one out of the twins. She’s spending most of her time with either Vision, the android with crazy powers or Natasha, trying to learn how to use her abilities in battle.

Since there wasn’t much thing for him to do without training, he decided to spend his time outside by the river. He sat on the side of the wooden platform, back resting to one of the pillars that held the roof above his head. He looked at the sketchbook placed on his lap, opened on two blank pages, pen laying on his right ear. It was a long time ago since he had time to actually draw something, but he knew exactly what - or more like who - he wanted to draw. The person that got stuck in his mind ever since they met on the driveway of the compound. Someone with eyes so blue that the sky feels jealous, the ocean wants to hide by the sight of them.

He let out a deep sigh, dragging his eyes away from the sketchbook to the calm water, trying to enjoy the quiet. There wasn’t any noise coming from inside the building like always, no one was arguing with F.R.I.D.A.Y. or training with explosives. There wasn’t a thing that could ruin this perfect moment. At least he thought so, until a certain fast boy appeared out of nowhere, creating a wind that almost flew Eliott’s sketchbook out of his lap into the river. Thankfully he had enough consciousness to catch it in time, saving it from getting soaked. He shot an angry look at the short boy, who was standing in front of him now, innocent smile plastered to his face. He was wearing sports grey sweatpants and a white shirt with the word ‘Désir’ written on it. Eliott hated the fact how he looked fucking gorgeous in those clothes too.

“How’s it going?” he asked, running his fingers through the already disheveled hair. Eliott rolled his eyes, clutching his sketchbook to his chest to protect it from the chaos that this brunette was.

“I was doing fine just a second ago.” Eliott replied. Just because he had a crush on this demonic angel, it didn’t mean he can’t be annoyed with his behavior. During the time he had spent here, it became crystal clear that Lucas lived on annoying the hell out of everyone. Which wasn’t that hard considering his abilities.

“Wow, someone’s grumpy.” he smirked and crouched down just so their eyes could be on the same level. “I didn’t know you are drawing.” he said, nodding his head towards the sketchbook.

“Only when I have time.” He said, his sudden anger starting to fade away, giving more space to the fucking nervousness again. This boy was affecting him in ways no one ever did before, which was a tad bit scary. Like the way he smiled made his heart beat crazy fast. “What do you want anyways?” he managed to ask.

“Well, since we both have some free time, I thought we could hang out.” he shrugged and sat down now too, pulling up his knees to his chest, resting his arms on it. Eliott tried not to focus on the veins that were clearly visible on his hands and forearms like this.

“I would prefer to be alone.” He mumbled and that was the biggest lie in the history, because he wanted Lucas to stay, even if they don’t talk.

“Yeah, I don’t care. I am going to stay.” He said with a wide smirk, resting his chin on his arms now, long eyelashes fluttering at him. Eliott was afraid that his heart is going to burst out of his chest. “So… you are an archer boy and an artist? What other talents you have?” He asked curiously, wiggling his perfectly curving eyebrows. The tall one sighed and dragged his eyes away from the boy, just to make talking easier.

“That’s all basically. I am good at shooting and throwing stuff. I rarely miss my target.” His eyes followed a piece of grass floating down the river. This place was so calming and peaceful. It was a long time ago since he got a chance to appreciate nature and its beauty in any kind of way. He forgot how nice the summer breeze can feel on a heated day. How beautiful water looks when it’s mirroring the cloudless, bright blue sky. Everything in this world seemed to be so nice, innocent and sweet in this very moment, almost letting him forget about all the horrors he had seen in his life. All the things he had done. People he killed, tortured and hurt. These just faded away in the bright sunlight, the soft wind taking them far away, leaving nothing but serenity behind.

“What about the drawing?” Lucas voice dragged him out of his thoughts so suddenly he got startled, letting his sketchbook go that was falling towards the water. Everything happened so fast, but within a blink of an eye, his sketchbook as home from his sight. He turned his head towards the boy in front of him, the black notebook in his hands. “That was close.”

“Can you give me back?” He blurted out instead of saying thank you, which was not very polite, but he couldn’t care less. That sketchbook was too important for him.

“What will I get if I give you back?” Lucas asked, playful smile appearing on his face as he got up and took a few steps back, keeping the notebook behind himself. Eliott squinted his eyes at the boy.

“Nothing, that’s mine!”

“But I saved it for you, therefore I deserve a reward, right?” He kept grinning as the archer boy got up, trying to get his sketchbook back, but he started just swaying around quickly and flawlessly.

“No, it’s not how it works. Give it back, Lucas!”

“Come and get it, Robin Hood!” He smirked, sticking out his tongue, slowly backing towards the building. Eliott walked forward with a determined look on his face, but deep inside he kinda enjoyed this little play. Lucas was adorable as he used his speed to get an advantage over him every time he tried to get back the little book.

“You are so annoying! Give it back!”

“I want a reward!”

“What reward?” Eliott sighed, stopping now, placing his hands on his waist. The other one also staying put, looking at him mischievously.

“Stay there and close your eyes.” he replied, bouncing on his feet excitedly. It was just so fucking adorable that Eliott couldn’t resist him, so he just let out a defeated sigh, closing his eyes slowly. He could feel the wind brushing through his hair, his nose filling with a scent he couldn’t recognize at first. It was like the smell of air right after the storm. Then before he could react, soft lips touched his own ever so slightly and carefully like being afraid of rejection. He opened his eyes just a little, taking in the sight of Lucas being so damn close, his features seemed even more beautiful, eyelashes casting long shadows on his pink cheeks. Hair falling to his face, making him look like the young, innocent boy he actually was. And fuck if Eliott didn’t fell for him in that exact moment.

His hands moved on their own, grabbing the brunette’s waist, pulling him so close their bodies were almost pressed at each other and he captured those cherry lips with his own. He could feel the boy gasping into the kiss, the notebook falling out of his hands, landing on the wooden floor with a soft thump. Soft hands were snaking their way up on Eliott’s back, grasping into the black shirt he was wearing. Their kiss started off slow, searching, trying to see how far they can go with the other. In the next moment Eliott found himself pressed to a wooden pillar, the rough material digging into his skin, while a soft body was grinding on his front side. That was probably the best thing he had ever felt. With one hand he kept holding the boy’s waist, while the other was sliding down to grab his thigh, pulling him even closer.

After long minutes of kissing and trying to eat up the other’s face, Eliott pulled back, examining the boy, his flushed cheeks, swollen lips and his ocean eyes that were filled with desire. At least his shirt was accurate, which made the older one smirk. Lucas smirked back at him, fingers gripping into Eliott’s messy locks, pulling him down for an open mouthed kiss this time. Tongues swirling around each other. Not even the soft summer breeze could cool down their bodies now that they were burning in passion.

Their heated up making out session was disturbed by the sound of the Avengers quinjet landing not too far from them. The boys broke apart, looking into each other’s eyes, smiling like idiots. Before Eliott could say a word, Lucas grabbed his hand, squeezing it slightly and started to walk towards the building with him.

“Let’s go and welcome the others.” he said on a cheerful tone, trying to fix his mess of a hair with his free hand. Eliott let out a heartfelt laugh and placed a soft kiss on the top of his head.

“Sure thing, Sonic.” he muttered into his hair to which he got a disapproving look from the boy.

“Fuck off.”

“Nah, you convinced me to stay. Now you gotta deal with my shit.” his smile didn’t seem to disappear anytime soon and damn if that wasn’t feeling good. Lucas gasped, placing his hand over his heart, faked shock plastered to his face.

“Oh, mon dieu! What have I done to myself?” voice dripping from sarcasm, while he was still holding Eliott’s hand. The tall boy laughed, pulling him closer and disentangling their fingers just so he could throw his arm around Lucas’ shoulder, realizing how well he fits there.

“Just shut up.”

“Make me!” Lucas retorted, stopping in their tracks, turning his head to the side. That expectant look on his face was so alluring and sweet, Eliott couldn’t resist. Why would he resist? Therefore he closed the short distance between them, locking their lips together in a soft, slow kiss.

When the weight disappeared from under him alongside with the soft mouth that was pressed to his just a second ago, he almost lost his balance, landing on the floor. He heard laughing from afar, turning his head towards the sound. Lucas was standing in the doorway, leaning to the frame, swinging Eliott’s sketchbook in his hands victoriously.

“Come on, Robin Hood! We have to go.” he said with his cheeky smile that made the tall boy’s heart beating faster. He shook his head with a soft laugh, jogging towards the building where the other was waiting for him.

Now in this very moment Eliott felt like his life had a reason, that all those things happened to him in the past weren’t just to fuck him over, but to lead him towards this moment. He was meant to be here, meeting Lucas, falling for him. It sounded cheesy, so he would probably never admit it out loud, but in this playful boy he found his reason to keep going. And so he will, because he is not gonna let anyone take this away from him. Not this time.

~°~

Make sure to leave a comment or your opinion on this ficlet! I am super nervous, cause I can’t decide if this is a good one or not, but I really wanted to publish it already.

Bious

#Skam France #Elu #An AU no one asked for #Elu MARVEL AU #Eliott Demaury #Lucas Lallemant #Elu fic #Elu fanfic #LEAVE COMMENTS #Lucas and Manon are twins yes #Eliott is a stuttering mess #but he's coming thru #they kiss #ony Clint Barton is presented #because reasons

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c-e-d-dreamer · 7 years

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Hey idk if you are still looking for prompts because I scrolled pretty far back, but if so, how about "that's the dumbest shit I've ever heard let's do it" or ”it’s a long story that involves a lot of blood, a couple squirrels, and one hell of a headache” for any of the foxes? Thanks, I love love love your writing and I've really enjoyed looking through your blog!

I’m always accepting prompts! And thank you so much for the lovely compliments! I hope you enjoy! This is basically a shitpost in fic form. It’s a crack fic. I’m not even sorry. Also you probably need to suspend a lot of disbelief for this; just roll with it

“That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard; let’s do it”

—

Neil is still trying to get the hang of his new phone. Nickyhad insisted that he upgrade to this century and had practically dragged Neilto the mall to purchase an iPhone. The rest of the Foxes were more than happyabout the change, some money even exchanging hands, but there’s so much goingon with his phone now. Before, all Neil had to worry about were text messagesand phone calls, but now there’s a bunch of apps that Nicky keeps trying toteach him. He thinks he’s starting to get a handle on Snapchat thanks to thedaily snaps from Allison. At the very least, he’s no longer confused by the waythey disappear after opening them. And Instagram seems easy enough, so Neiltries to keep track of that so he can see Renee’s posts from around the world.

Neil can admit that the ESPN app is great. It’s set up tosend him notifications for Exy news and score updates. It’s that app that iscurrently dinging at Neil as he makes his way across campus. The trade deadlineis coming up for the National Exy League, and Neil’s been trying to keep up andfollow the changes. After Neil reads the latest update, the striker tries tosee the current NCAA standings, but his new phone isn’t cooperating. He bats atthe screen a few times, but when it finally switches over to NCAA Exy, it’s thenews page. Neil lets out a frustrated noise and is about to just give up when aheadline catches his eye.

Neil scrolls through and reads the article the whole wayback to Fox Tower. He still has his phone out and the page open as he unlocksthe door to his dorm. The room is full of people, but Neil has learnt to beunsurprised by that. Nicky and Aaron are in the beanbags, a video game of somesort blaring on the television. Kevin is sprawled out on the couch with hislaptop in his lap while Andrew is perched on his desk by the window.

“Hey, Neil,” Nicky greets, not taking his eyes off the gamehe’s playing. “How was class?”

“Did you guys know someone tried to steal the University ofTexas’ mascot last night? Not the costume; the actual longhorn.”

“How unoriginal,” Nicky says. “That’s like the oldest prankin the book. I mean everyone’s—”

Nicky cuts off as he finally draws his eyes away and meetsNeil’s, his face contorting into a mix of guilt and regret. The backliner openshis mouth again, but whatever rambling remedy was on the tip of his tongue, he swallowsit down and snaps his lips shut. When no one else in the room has anything toadd, Neil resigns himself to his desk. He can feel Andrew’s eyes boring intohis cheek, but the striker focuses on outlining his upcoming essay until practice.

The news story gets forgotten, blurred away by drills andbickering freshmen and a scrimmage. But it’s still nestled a place in the backof Neil’s mind, niggling in the periphery of his thoughts persistently. By thetime he’s changing out after practice, it’s made its way back to the forefront.

He thinks about the article, about Nicky’s cut off words, ashe and Andrew sit up on the roof, the nighttime humid and inky around them. Hismind is a whirlwind of thoughts tangled up with the billows of smoke wisping inthe evening breeze. He almost doesn’t notice the distinctive smell of nicotineor the way his cigarette has burned down to the filter. He doesn’t realize he’szoned out on the twinkling lights of the campus until the cool, feather lighttouch across the back of his hand pulls him back.

When Neil looks to his right, Andrew is already watchingback. He raises an eyebrow in question at the striker’s silence, and Neil stubsout his cigarette.

“Do you think I’m missing out?” Neil asks. “Having not donea prank before?”

Andrew doesn’t say anything in response. He watches Neil fora few more moments before he stubs out his own cigarette. He beckons his headtowards the roof door, and Neil tries not to read too much into it as the tworetreat down to their dorm.

The next morning before heading to the gym for workouts,Andrew drags Neil and Kevin next door. The goalkeeper picks the lock with anease Neil feels he shouldn’t be surprised by at this point. The three burstinto the room where Aaron and Nicky are tucked into the kitchenette withsteaming mugs cradled in their hands. Neither bats an eye at the intrusion.

“We’re stealing a mascot tonight,” Andrew says to the room.

“What?!” Kevin squeaks out from just inside the doorway.

“That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard,” Nicky says,setting down his mug. “Let’s do it.”

“What.”

“Oh, come on, Kevin, it’ll be fun!” Nicky reasons. “I betyou’ve never pulled a prank either. And it’ll be like a senior prank for you.It works out perfectly!”

“While that’s all well and good,” Aaron pipes up. “Where areyou going to steal this mascot from? Most schools don’t have real animalmascots these days. We certainly don’t have a fox running around.”

“University of Texas has a real animal mascot,” Neil says.

“You want us to travel all the way to the University ofTexas?” Aaron asks, tone deadpan.

“There has to be somewhere closer,” Nicky offers, fiddlingwith his phone for a moment. “University of North Carolina! That’s not too farto drive.”

“There’s no way we’re fitting a ram in my car,” Andrew says.

“Matt has a truck,” Neil suggests.

It’s at that moment that Matt walks out of the bathroom,toothbrush hanging between his teeth and phone pressed to his ear. Hisexpression startles when he notices all pairs of eyes on him.

“Hey, Matt,” Neil says. “Can we borrow your truck tonight?”

“We’re driving up to UNC tonight to steal their mascot,”Nicky jumps in to explain. “You in?”

Neil thinks it must be a sign that Matt’s been living withNicky and Aaron too long because the backliner just shrugs in acceptance.

“I’m going to have to call you back, Dan,” Matt says intohis phone. “We’re kidnapping Rameses.”

- - -

Researching during lunch reveals that UNC has a small farmon their campus. It acts as a training center for students studying veterinarysciences, but it also doubles as Rameses’ home. It seems easy enough to get to,and the farm being tucked away from the dorms means students shouldn’t bemilling about.

It should be easy.

Their first complication arrives before they even get oncampus. After dinner, everyone changes into black clothes and piles into Matt’struck, and then they’re heading up north along the interstate. It’s a bit of ahike through North Carolina, but luckily, the sun has long since set by thetime they’re nearing the campus. Matt directs the truck towards the entrance thatwill bring them closest to the farm, but security stops them to check forschool ID’s.

Despite Matt’s sweet talking and Nicky’s attemptedexplanation that they’re attending an on-campus party, the security guardremains unimpressed and stubborn, turning them away. Matt ends up parking thetruck outside a row of off-campus houses, and the group sneaks onto the campus.

UNC is bigger than PSU, and as Neil looks around at thedifferent buildings looming over him, it’s a bit disorientating, and yet there’sno mistaking that thrum of excitement. They keep mostly to the shadows and keeptheir heads down, trying not to draw attention to themselves. As collegestudents themselves, they at least blend in a little.

After a few wrong turns down campus roads, they find thefarm. They hop over the fence and make their way up the dirt path to the barn. Neilmakes quick work of picking the lock and they all slip inside. The poignantsmell of manure and livestock hits them like a tsunami wave, and Neil puts ahand over his mouth to try and stifle it. Similar reactions ripple through thegroup. Nicky, Matt, and Aaron pull out their phones to provide light as theymove further into the barn. Neil peers into the first cubby on his left only tocome face to face with a horse.

“Aw this one has a cute little pig in it,” Nicky says fromfurther down. “We should take this too.”

“Focus, Nicky,” Kevin snaps.

Neil has to stifle a laugh at Nicky’s muttered response ashe continues to look for the ram. The next cubby he checks has a donkeysleeping inside, though.

“Hey!” Matt exclaims. “I found him!”

Everyone joins Matt and crowds around the cubby. Rameses hasbacked into the far corner. He stares at them all for a few moments beforeletting out a bleat. Matt, Nicky, and Kevin begin a murmured argument aboutwhat to do next when Andrew opens the door to the cubby and steps inside, arope in his hand that he ties around Rameses to lead the ram out. Once they getRameses out of the barn, they move as a slow huddle down the road in an attemptto hide their deed. Andrew ends up handing the rope over to Aaron so he canlead the group when it becomes apparent no one else can remember the way backto Matt’s truck.

A security guard is making rounds around the campus, so theyhave to duck between the shadows of two buildings while they wait for him topass. It’s at this moment that Rameses becomes fed up with his captors. A swiftkick to Aaron’s shins leaves the backliner recoiling in pain and dropping therope. Rameses takes the opportunity to escape, darting out from their hidingspot. Matt and Neil are quick to chase after the ram, but running into thelight of the streetlamps reveals that the security guard isn’t as far away asthey anticipated and the bleating has drawn his attention.

“Hey!” the security guard shouts, already running in theirdirection. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Oh shit,” Neil says under his breath.

“Time to go,” Andrew says, grabbing a fistful of the back ofNeil’s shirt and tugging.

“Wait! What about Rameses?” Matt asks, gesturing towards theparking lot the ram is tearing through.

“Leave him!” Nicky shouts, taking hold of Matt’s wrist andyanking him away.

They can hear the security guard getting closer, his poundingfootsteps and his shouts of needing backup. No one needs to be told twice. Theysqueeze out the other side of the buildings and break into sprints, scatteringin different directions.

Neil can feel the adrenaline thrumming in his veins. Itleaves his ears ringing and his heart pounding in his chest as his feet smackagainst the ground. Andrew veers off to the right in front of him, and Neilfollows. The shortcut takes them through the brush, and branches cut at Neil’sarms and ankles. It does nothing to quiet the thrill bubbling in his chest.

Matt’s truck comes into view, Aaron and Kevin alreadywaiting in the bed. Nicky and Matt come tearing in from the other side, yankingthe doors of the cab open to clamber inside.

“Do you think the ram is alright?” Matt asks, out of breath.

“That’s not important right now, Matthew! Drive!” Nickyshouts.

Andrew practically bodily throws Neil into the truck bedbefore jumping in himself. Matt kicks the truck into gear and peels away fromthe curb, tires screeching in his wake. As Matt speeds off, Neil can’t help thegiddy laughter that bubbles out of him, taking him over until there are tearsin his eyes.

“Well that was fun.”

“Junkie.”

// Send me prompts!!! //

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lorenzobreid · 4 years

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The post Research Paper Front Page Service appeared first on Tungsten Corp.

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dydturktek · 5 years

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Nem Kurutma | Nem Alma | Rutubet Kurutma | DYD 444 0 719

YOU DO YOU

On Wednesday afternoon, my family and i went to some spin category. If you’ve not really done one of these, it’s simply a lot of people about stationary exercise bikes in a small, gray room, with music that will accompanies it all to aid in cadence together with motivation. Ultimately, you manage your own speed, but the lecturer in the entry calls out there instructions with when to bring tension, when to stand up in addition to sprint, once to recover, deadbeat sync when using the beat on the songs. Clearly, because it was basically Super Toilet bowl Sunday (no comments on the outcome please… just inputting this is difficult), our trainer had over a Falcons jersey. I’d certainly not seen this woman previous to, but the lady did not reach me like a big soccer fan. What can I say? Whenever you know you know.

As training started your lover made several comments for instance, ‘Okay, discussing get some deliver the results in ahead of the big video game. ‘ Along with intermittently through the first few tunes, ‘Push difficult up the slope so you can actually eat whatever you really want tonight, ‘ or ‘Dig deeper and really work at this moment. Just like the Falcons are going to complete against the Patriots. ‘ Eesh. I could in no way help cringing a bit in addition to squeezing the very handlebars a bit of tighter though scrunching our nose plus eyes with these comments. It all sensed so enforced, as if the girl felt urged to wear the particular uniform and create some work references since it was the Super Toilet bowl.

Then most people came to the other to previous song. At this moment, after riding hard to get 45 minutes, anyone do make use of good songs and encouraging commands from the trainer because you are actually pretty used. As the defeat started, That i knew of things were going to head out downhill (no pun intended) fast. Additionally they did. ‘Okay, Falcons supporters. Close your personal eyes whenever you pedal. Imagine that you are there at the game. They have first off, second affordable, third all the way down. They move and score. Julio Jones is in the last part zone for your touchdown. ‘ I cocked my look at the side to check my wife just like to say, ‘Are you kidding me? ‘ She only just looked back https://onlineessayshelp.com/argumentative-essay-outline/ at me, knowingly shook the head, in addition to smiled. For sure I increased both eyebrows and popped my little brown eyes wide. She gave me a deeper look that said ‘Be nice’ plus went back for you to looking head-on, frontally,. I won’t start much more detail here, nevertheless suffice it to say them got more serious. A LOT EVEN WORSE.

Since that has been the last ‘working song, ‘ the next one was a cool down where you in order to hands there’s lots of handlebars, sluggish your cadence, and do some stretching about the bike. Effortlessly, at that point, all of I could take into account was the higher education admission progression.

Your personal Voice

I have created before that your college essay as well as short get suggestions are your individual opportunity to help us listen to YOUR unique words. Throughout the remainder of the application, degrees, course choice, test scores, and even in your personal extra-curricular exercises, you cannot pass on your voice— and it’s a key differentiator. As it is so critical to our overview and to your personal ‘fit’ for each school that you are applying to, is actually even more important that you will be genuine inside your responses. Are you gonna be pensive, profound and brooding? That’s great… love to read it. But do try to call your internal Emily Dickinson if you know for that fact she’s got not in there. And the exact is true just for humor or perhaps rhymes and also new words and phrases you may have available on Synonym. com.

Last week I used to be at a high school graduation junior class program in order to ‘kick off’ the college classes process utilizing parents along with students. With my speech, We made this ideas verbatim, ‘We want to notice YOUR unique tone of voice. ‘ In a while, a young girl came upwards and talked about she could not understand what I meant. I have sat about panels as well as overheard a few pretty confounding advice: ‘Push yourself scholastically, and do what we love, yet set the best foundation considering that it’s an examination of preparation. ‘ ‘Don’t put aside you also need to know you’re in competition when using the applicant pool, but truly with yourself, and type of when using the curriculum likewise. ‘ That’s why, that’s a very little bemusing.

However , ‘your voice’ is just that will: your tone of voice . There isn’t a hidden concept. In other words, prior to donning the jersey, which makes the music choice, and sorting into entirely unfamiliar neighborhood, take a difficult look in often the mirror. You’re sure you, for that reason find your company voice. You are you . You’ll give thanks me, and even more importantly, you are going to thank you.

Know that Stretch

At the end of rotate class, almost everyone gets off their cycle and stretches. And as I actually stood truth be told there in medium pain, yet pondering college or university admission, I realized this specific class (and therefore the blog) was a two-for-one article.

See, at this point, you have a few choices of ways to stretch: (1) put your personal leg at any height on the handlebar, (2) mid-range on the place, or (3) at the reduced crossbar. My sister throws her leg on the handlebar and positions her look at her leg as if absolutely normal. All of us? Not so much. I typically commence at the lower crossbar and even work my favorite way because of the seat.

Below is the thing: You’ll find that educational institutions are very see-thorugh with their informative profiles. Ordinarily, they’ll create articles these online and in their valuable brochures while middle 50% ranges. Like last year for Tech, your mid-50% assortment was 1330-1440 SAT or even 30-34 FUNCTION. Our different freshmen proportioned between 7-13 AP/IB/college quality courses plus were mostly making A’s in people classes.

If you decide to have a 36 ACT, for the most part B’s, as well as have taken 2 AP groups when your institution offered 12, we’d get ‘a handlebar school’ to suit your needs, and your likelihood of being admitted are just what exactly statisticians would expertly deem as ‘low. ‘ Heading to absolutely still read your personal essays, evaluate your history outside the class room, gain wording into your house life, and see whether there are any incredibly remarkable circumstances that really must be considered. But to borrow a new phrase right from spin training, you should be ‘recognizing that extend. ‘

We sometimes talk to students who are really ONLY signing up to Ivy Category or Ivy-type schools (normally at the prompting of parents). Even if you have A’s, good classes and nearly great test lots, this is a HARMFUL IDEA. How can you know? Many of us denied concerning 500 college students like that at the begining of Action the 2010 season. And keep on your mind that at 26%, the admit pace is thrice higher than Harvard’s.

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hrk4 · 6 years

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The year that was...

Dear Friends:

Season’s Greetings!

Standing between the two armies eager for battle, Krishna’s exhortation to his friend in dismay was, in essence, this: Why do you hesitate to do what is most natural to you? Why are you so afraid to be yourself? Why are you combating your own temperament, making a mockery of your hard-earned proficiency, and behaving in a manner singularly ill-suited to what you hold dear? Arjuna’s despondency was a consequence of his own sentimentality and hence Krishna inspires him to return to himself, reminding him constantly of his true nature as a warrior. A twenty-first century Krishna would have most certainly appended a proviso to his famous utterance – “Try to excel in the work and path aligned to your nature, even if it is flawed or less glamorous. It is better than following the way of others. You will never feel guilty if you follow your inherent nature.” In that rider, he might well have illustrated the various machinations of society that detracts from the individual the opportunity to stay true to the Self. At every turn in the road of life, people—even with the noblest of intentions—await the slightest of chances to misguide the traveller, gently nudging him away from the inner path. He is expected to tread the beaten track; he is directed to follow the well-known route.

For someone who has relentlessly strayed from the banal passageways leading to predictable endpoints, I faced a profusion of advice and admonition this year from family and friends, badgering me to recognize, nay embrace, the multi-hued, dazzling avenues that would lead me to some goal or achievement or outcome of their choice, which in turn would be hailed by the people of the world as something that perhaps justifies my existence. I’m glad to place on record that all such attempts have failed miserably and I continue to be myself, treading the inward path wholly aligned to my nature. What is particularly memorable is that I did not react to the advice and admonition with anger or arrogance (I must admit that at times I was tempted to flash the middle finger but such murderous thoughts didn’t last long); instead, I quietly accepted it as a gift that is useless to me but given with warmth nevertheless. I smiled at them, not condescendingly, nor artlessly, but with the awareness that nobody is in a better position than I am to evaluate my mind, and therefore any such attempt is bound to fall short – at least in my eyes. Of course, the dark side of this whole business is that my instincts have driven me—often unconsciously—to be more careful around such people – the unsolicited advisors and admonishers; this has translated into the unfortunate measuring of utterances and the calculation of gestures – clearly a deviation from the natural flow of the self. Therefore the informal tête-à-têtes with such people are bound to decline albeit gradually and in not-so-obvious ways.

In my view, friends are those exceptional individuals with whom you can be yourself, in addition to the unmistakable emotional connection. This is both a function of the attitude of the friends—whether they continually judge you or not—and of your own preoccupation with what the world is thinking of you. The less they judge you and the less you agonize over what others’ think, the more comfortable the relationship. As a silent witness I observed some of my close friends moving far away from me and some of my casual acquaintances moving closer, becoming friends. Through this transitory phase, I tried to remain calm and accept the changing reality, which is inevitable. In such instances, I find solace in recollecting memories with old friends of mine whom I hardly get to meet but every time I do, we start from where we left off, even if that was months or years ago.

When I sat down to gather my thoughts on what the year 2017 has meant to me, more than what my ‘achievements’ were, or even what my ‘learning’ was, my mind was forcibly drawn towards where I stand as an individual; my focus was primarily on how I transformed through the course of these twelve months. ‘Achievements’ implies ego; ‘learning’ suggests an unfinished process; but ‘transformed’ connotes a newer, perhaps better, state of being that has already been effected. That said, to record some of the completed tasks and learnt lessons might be valuable for future improvements, and hence I have found it appropriate to archive them here.

My activities in 2017 were largely confined to the following domains: i. Writing, ii. Music, iii. Research, iv. Design, v. Publishing, and vi. Monkey Business (what my friends at Infy would call ‘इत्यादि-इत्यादि’).

I. I wrote some articles/essays and did a fair bit of translation/editing for Prekshaa Journal as well as for my upcoming books. Apart from having two short stories published (in Indian Review and Cha), I also spent some time writing a detailed outline of my first novel. I taught two courses at Bangalore Writers Workshop and was also a judge at the annual Deccan Herald short story competition. (Lesson learned: Working without constant expectations is both pleasurable and profitable; fretting over deadlines and unfinished projects is counterproductive.)

II. I formally dived into the amateur circuit of Carnatic classical music with an hour-long solo violin concert at Chowdiah Memorial Hall in November. Earlier in the year, I played a couple of chamber concerts. (Lesson learned: If playing in your room is tiring and playing in front of your guru is sweat-inducing, playing in front of an audience is in a different league altogether.)

III. This has mostly involved reading some of the important texts of the Hindu tradition, both primary and secondary sources. This has also meant my taking baby steps into the worlds of Sanskrit poetry, ancient Indian polity and law, history, Kannada literature, and the Epics.

IV. I designed close to fifteen books and four album covers, the highlight being the Prekshaa calendar. I also explored a bit in the area of Indic fonts and hopefully will have a breakthrough soon.

V. For all practical purposes, I didn’t write any book in 2017; I only published books (through W.I.S.E. Words Inc., the Indie publishing setup I run along with Dr. Koti Sreekrishna); eight in all: Stories Behind Verses (by Arjun Bharadwaj and Shashi Kiran B N; in collaboration with Prekshaa Pratishtana), பகவத்கீதை தற்காலத் தமிழில் (by Sripriya Srinivasan), The Song in Pictures (in association with my photographer-friends Anirudh, Anshuman, Divya, Frank, Navneeth, Prathigna, and Skanda), and five anthologies of essays by Prof. M Hiriyanna (a republication of otherwise unavailable classics).

VI. Apart from getting addicted to cryptic crosswords and card magic, I did some voice-acting on stage and voice-over work in the studio. Two short videos produced for Shaale stand testimony to what they’re worth. I signed out of Twitter and LinkedIn. I also spent a few extra hours sorting out my finances. Plus, I started cooking regularly. (Lesson learned: Without all this monkey business, my life will be meaningless.)

It is impossible to write down all the wonderful things I learnt in 2017 but it might be instructive—to my future self, if not anyone else—to document some learnings from my gurus as well as the wonderful artists I had the good fortune of meeting this year:

A. Ever since I was getting ready to perform on stage, my guru Dr. L Subramaniam has been consistently pushing me to improve my art; his focus has entirely shifted from the technical aspect of violin-playing (which was the mainstay during the early years of my lessons with him) and moved to the aesthetic and emotional aspects of music. To give life to every note, to add emotion to every phrase, and to make every performance unique has been his refrain. LS sir has often said: Even if you play for five minutes, it should be something sublime.

B. My entry into Sanskrit poetry and literature has been a direct result of the single-minded prodding, encouragement, and support given to me by Śatāvadhāni Dr. R Ganesh. His emphasis on the importance of familiarity with Sanskrit literature and classical art forms of India—particularly dance—for any student of Indian culture has influenced me deeply. Time and again I have felt that any student of Hindu heritage will benefit by embracing the holistic approach as advocated by Dr. Ganesh as opposed to the numerous other approaches, far more seductive in appeal but piecemeal all the same.

C. Dr. S L Bhyrappa made the astute observation that as a novelist and philosopher, instead of getting affected by a certain individual’s actions (often antagonistic in nature), he tends to go deeper into the psyche of that individual—regarding him/her as a character in a story—and analyzes the more fundamental reason that makes him/her behave in the said manner. In another instance, when Dr. Ganesh asked him during an interview, “What in your opinion keeps a relationship going? What truly sustains love?” he replied with a single word: Mārdava (tenderness, gentleness, compassion).

D. Every visit to Dr. S R Ramaswamy’s office room—rather karmabhūmi—in Chamarajpet is equivalent to reading a pile of books; he teaches us so much, not only by his eloquent speech but also by the force of his personality. When a friend of mine inquired about his fragile health condition, he merely said, “From my twentieth year, I realized that I’m just an āgantuka (stranger, guest, visitor) here in this world.” One seldom finds that sort of awareness—not merely in word, but in action as well. The wonderful paradox in SRR’s worldview is that although he feels like a visitor, he toils with the gusto of a landowner!

E. I have learnt so much just by observing Prof. L V Shanthakumari, an epitome of tranquillity. It baffles me how a person can transcend such pain and yet not make any bones about it. Her presence itself is calming and reassuring but not without a healthy dose of humour and wide-ranging discussion. If only our society had more elderly sages like her.

F. During a conversation I had with Mantap Prabhakar Upadhya, he spoke a great deal about the mind of an artiste during performance. He underscored the importance of art leading to self-forgetfulness; unless the artist can become one with the art, the connoisseurs will not get the ultimate experience. He then told me that when he dances, he doesn’t do it for the applause or for appreciation but as a means of washing off his ego.

G. In my interactions with Nirupama and Rajendra, I found unmatched zest for innovation and a relentless pursuit of self-betterment, not just as dancers but also as human beings. I am reminded of an old saying—One can accomplish almost anything for which one has unlimited enthusiasm—whenever I meet them. When there is absolutely no need to do anything different, when the formula works, and when things are going smoothly, and yet you choose to innovate, that is when you become a pioneer.

H. The continual learning from the extended Prekshaa family—it would be gross injustice to use a term like ‘team’ or ‘crew’—is something that I cannot fully put in writing. I have never seen a more selfless bunch of people, always putting the needs of the organization over their own, making mock of their own travails, and creating an atmosphere of riotous fun without ever subtracting from the tasks to be accomplished. To me, this is nothing less than lokasaṅgraha in action.

2017 started off with a celebration of my mother’s sixtieth birthday (in February) with a small get-together and large doses of music. On the occasion, we brought out her book Sixty Years, Sixty Episodes, a collection of interesting anecdotes from various dimensions of her life. By mid-year, our family was going through a terrible phase with the sudden deaths of members of the immediate and extended family. My grandmother, Smt. Malathi Rangaswamy passed away in July at the age of eighty-five. She was perfectly normal even the previous evening—afflicted by neither a fever nor a cold—and the next afternoon, she was gone. To live according to your terms is rare but rarer still is to die according to your terms. Those who knew her surely felt that with her passing, an era had ended. An old school orthodoxy that had its own warmth and beauty in spite of its obvious limitations. A life of rigorous economy and wise investments. A determination that always placed principles before passions; a firmness, even rigidity, that put faith above joys and comforts; motherly love that knew no discrimination; and benevolence that knew no bounds. The end of 2017 brings with it my father’s semi-retirement from his erstwhile semi-retirement. After a few successful consultancy assignments, he is setting out to write a book chronicling his twenty-year journey of social service in the area of Avoidable Blindness; quite aptly, he has chosen to call the book Eye-opener.

My travels this year were mostly limited to South India—south of the Vindhyas, to be precise,—a place that is my home and that satisfies me more than anywhere else on the planet, with the sole exception of the Himalayas.

The more I read international news and the more I talk to friends living in the US and Europe, the more I’m convinced that as on date, India is—in addition to being so vibrant and diverse—among the safest and sanest places to live in the world; doubtless, we have our own problems but when a population of over a billion is governed by less than a hundred thousand police stations and yet able to maintain peace by and large, then it has definitely something to do with our ‘civilizational maturity,’ as one of my friends put it.

Speaking at the launch of his most recent book, Dr. S R Ramaswamy recalled a wonderful remark by his guru D V Gundappa: “If we were to think that the Supreme [or Destiny or the universe; call it what you wish] bestows upon us those things that we deserve—ex officio—then we would have absolutely nothing. It is because of His immense kindness that He grants us—ex gratia—all the things that we have.” In sum, we don’t get merely what we deserve, but far more than that. And I shall leave you with that thought.

Here’s wishing you and your loved ones a great 2018!

Cheers, Hari

#memoirs #newyear

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thecheeverfillesseniorthesis · 7 years

Text

The Cheever Files The Cheever Files Adventures of a Senior Thesis. Secondary blog of @midlife-stoodent.

D-1

Had to jump the count a few days because my Senior thesis is due TODAY. I had the due date in my planner as Sunday.

I am nearly finished with it. I turned in my thesis and subclaims into my prof via email, then when I got started, I used the same and wrote out my own words beneath my subclaims (I changed their type to BOLD to keep them separate). It worked! I am able to maintain an outline! I tend to scatter ideas…

I am not asking for an extension. I have asked for them all term and I simply need to get this done. I am 10 pages in, I have three sublaims left to do, and it’s not due until 11:59PM tonight.

THIS WILL HAPPEN.

I work best when dealing with absolute fear. Don’t follow my example. #thecheeverfiles#studyblr#studyspo#spring2016#ELNM#seniorthesis 5 notes

D-5

The struggle is very real. Still receiving instruction from my prof on my thesis.

At least my tense is correct.

BTW, I work better under pressure. Spending an entire term on a paper has yet to work for me.

LISTENING TO: Our Lady Peace #thecheeverfiles#studyblr#studyspo#spring2016#ELNM#seniorthesis 3 notes

D-7. Senior Thesis is due this week. Thankfully I am off of work, so that’s one less thing to worry about.

My digital project is completed (first picture) and that has been uploaded. I am still (yes, still) working on my thesis and subclaims. I emailed a correction back to my prof this afternoon, once I hone my thesis she will get to my subclaims.

Tomorrow I have to drop off my paperwork for my Service Learning, and take the TB test. I don’t know if all of this is going to get done before the end of the term, but that professor has given us an option if we weren’t able to solidify our service learning before the term ended.

I think 60 coffee pods should last me until the end of the week? Last term I went through 80 in a week and a half, and this term is way harder. I may need more… #thecheeverfiles#studyblr#studyspo#spring2016#ELNM#Seniorthesis#starbucks 3 notes

D-15. Rough Draft final draft, if that makes sense. I am truly blessed to have an amazing advisor/professor who gave us an extension (read: mercy) to turn it in for our rough draft workshop. I have until 6AM tomorrow morning to get this uploaded. **weeps with gratefulness**

Did I ever mention the size of my Senior Thesis class? There’s myself, and two other ladies. One of the many benefits of attending a small, private university.

I admit, I did the usual “check-out” in the middle of the term, where I was watching You Tube videos instead of writing. Then today, when the module for Week 8 comes out, we get the admonishment to not check out.

I am reeling myself back in.

Sumikko guroshi page flags for for ultimate win!

LISTENING TO: The Cure Disintegration #thecheeverfiles#studyblr#studyspo#spring2016#ELNM#seniorthesis#sumikkoguroshi#obviouslyilovemycoffee 4 notes

D-18

Rough draft time. Have my most excellent feedback from my professor to help, as well as my own lightbulb moment. All I need now is the time to get it written. She did extend the due date for us, which I absolutely love because our drafts go into a workshop for final editing.

I miscalculated my vacation time from work, it’s next week, and I should have asked for this week, or even the rest of the month off.

Oh well. It will get done.

LISTENING TO: Morrissey’s Viva Hate #thecheeverfiles#studyblr#studyspo#spring2016#ELNM#seniorthesis 1 note

D-25. 25 days left to go.

Along with my essay, I also have to complete a digital assignment as part of my grade to add to my portfolio. Ovid’s Metamorphoses arrived via Amazon Student Prime today. Yes, Ovid + Cheever=Digital Project. It’s going to be awesome.

Still trying to raise my thesis from the bowels of hell. I was going to discuss the agency of the various rooms used in “A Country Husband” but I realized I needed to narrow that focus, so I am doing the agency of living rooms in the text. Of course, it throws my rough draft right out the window…

I love my Starbucks cup. #thecheeverfiles#studyblr#studyspo#spring2016#ELNM#seniorthesis#metamorphoses#starbucks#seemyfilofax? 7 notes

My First Draft is turned in, a minute past my self-imposed deadline of 5AM. I am so thankful my boss let me leave work two hours early so I could go home, nap, and finish this madness. I am not good at first drafts…a final copy I can do, but first drafts? My mind is still a jumble of thoughts and quotes.

After I uploaded my draft, I found an article on John Cheever that said he isn’t taught in schools anymore, if he ever really was. I find that to be a big old shame because the man is brilliant. Needless to say, even though I had already turned in my draft, I am now determined to make my paper a testament to his literary greatness. The man should be taught in schools, students are really missing out.

I am going to sleep the sleep of a student who has been burning the candle at both ends, what with full-time work and three classes to deal with. #thecheeverfiles#studyblr#studyspo#spring2016#ELNM#seniorthesis 1 note

Literary TheoryLiterary Theory Senior ThesisLiterary TheorySenior Thesis 4/22/16: Over the course of my academic career (so far, it’s only been what, two years?) I have learned working with a printout of a text is much easier for annotating than with a book. I have absolutely no shame in destroying a book in the name of essay writing, but there is less guilt with using a printout. This is my copy of “A Country Husband”, the first and second pages. Yeah, I use Midori stickers to mark important transitions within the text.

I have also learned to SAVE. MY. NOTES from previous classes. Last term, I took Literary Theory, and I need to apply a theoretical lens to my thesis. It is times like these I am glad I am so anal about my notes, as my notebook from Lit Theory is divided by the different theories.

The rough draft is due next week, already I have the very familiar pangs of self-doubt. Maybe I am placing too much pressure on myself, but this paper is a reflection of me and my scholarship. In no way do I want to come off as pedestrian, but that is my largest fear moving forward. #thecheeverfiles#studyblr#studyspo#spring2016#ELNM#seniorthesis 2 notes

Senior Thesis, Week 4: Way back when I took Literary Analysis (from the same professor) I kept all of the writing “hacks” she gave us. I printed them all up and tucked them away into a file folder. Turns out she’s using them for this class as well. Don’t know if the drawing belongs to her, but it still makes me laugh. Funny, two years ago when I took Literary Analysis I was very self-conscious of my essay-writing. Now it doesn’t phase me at all.

I am reading Cheever’s “Letters”…the man is hilarious, dark and so right-on with his discriptions of humanity. There’s an entire section entitled “The Suburbs”, from when he moved his family out of the city to upstate NY. The passage I highlighted tickles me, but I have to wonder: how often do we look at the belongings of others to remind us of who we are and where we came from?

My schedule for the upcoming week. My days off are Thursday and Friday, so I begin the fresh week there. Today (Monday) I register for Summer. I have to be at work by 230PM and other than continuing my Cheever reading I have my two other classes.

WRITE EVERY DAY.

Our rough draft is due next week, so this is our instruction. #thecheeverfiles#studyblr#studyspp#spring2016#ELNM#seniorthesis 7 notes

Got my Prospectus/Annotated Bibliography done, several hours before I was scheduled to turn it in, so that’s over.

This week we will be working on our Digital Project/Digital Presence, so we get a break from writing. Doesn’t mean the fun stops, I still have two other classes to maintain. Above is my weekly calendar, I use it as well as my Ardium Academic planner. My “weekend” is on Thursday/Friday, which is why the dates are wonky.

As for Digital Presence, I really am not worried about it. I cleaned up my social media when I was accepted to uni because I knew there would be a time where I had to do the exact same thing, so I just wiped a whole bunch of accounts. #thecheeverfiles#studyblr#studysop#spring2016#ELNM#Seniorthesis 3 notes

Prospectus and Annotated Bibliography Work:

This is the current time. Not too bad, as I don’t get home from work until after 11PM, but my eyes are getting tired. I’m indulging in a large mug of black tea, having consumed enough coffee over the course of the day to sink a ship.

I have spent this past week reading and researching. I carry a book or an article with me at all times, because you never know when you are going to have a moment to catch up on some reading. I had a few minutes while at the gas station the other day, so I read a few paragraphs.

You do what you have to do to get it done. :)

My beat up Writer’s Reference book, a university requirement.

No, I don’t have to work tomorrow (sarcasm).

I have my annotations completed, but I need to edit them to make sure all of the commas are in the right place. I am almost finished with the prospectus part.

I did, however, make sure Word was functional on my iPad and the entire project was accessible. WIN. Now I can finish this up at work tomorrow.

It’s due at 11:59 Monday night. #thecheeverfiles#studyblr#studyspo#spring2016#ELNM#seniorthesis 21 notes

Day 2: Well, technically I am still running on the original post, but in reality we have passed midnight. Welcome to 2:15AM.

Week 2 is the Prospectus and Annotated Bibliography portion of Senior Thesis. I took notes of the instructions and WON on three academic sources. I need 5 total, including the original text. I could hug my WR 323 instructor right now, because I have become a master of Google Scholar and our library’s online search engine.

I leave this post with a picture of my stapler. This little honey has the capacity of stapling 40 pages at once, and for someone who simply cannot read and retain electronically, this has been a great investment. Oh, and all of the printer ink and paper I stocked up on last term. #thecheeverfiles#studyblr#studyspo#LIT498#spring2016#ELNM#seniorthesis

Day 1: Amazon Student Prime and Sunday delivery for the win. My books came today! I never had a book for “A Country Husband”, all I ever had was a .pdf. I will say, annotating on a copy is a lot easier than in a book. So, I printed out another.

The term just began a week ago, and for that first week we had to turn in an annotated page from two papers we have written during our academic career here at Marylhurst. “Desireè’s Baby” by Chopin was my other choice, but I was sold on Cheever from the beginning. #thecheeverfiles#studyblr#studyspo#spring2016#LIT498#seniorthesis#ELNM 2 notes A Digital Accounting of my Adventures with my Senior Thesis. @midlife-stoodent here. I am an English Literature and New Media major, and welcome to my Senior Thesis studyblr. Check out my main blog for more studyblr goodness.

I decided to chronicle my path of the Senior Thesis to create a digital footprint of the process. Obviously, my Thesis is on John Cheever, his short story “The Country Husband” to be exact. I chose Cheever because his stories about the middle class intrigue me.

So! Lets get this started! I will be following the usual #studyblr format. #thecheeverfiles#studyblr#studyspo#spring2016#LIT498#seniorthesis#ELNM 1 note

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thesrhughes · 7 years

Text

Video Games for Writers

New Post has been published on http://thesrhughes.com/video-games-for-writers/

Video Games for Writers

Hello, imaginary friends, and welcome to my process blog. Today, I’m going to write, believe it or not, about some good video games for writers to play. Besides reading, obviously, video games are my primary source of entertainment. This isn’t to speak ill of television or film, but to speak well of the VG media. Video games are involving, challenging, entertaining, increasingly mature, and more daring than ever. The better ones involve fully realized characters, involved (if sometimes needlessly complicated) plots, and an amazing sense of pace. The best of them can even teach us something about the creative process–structure, story, and keeping the attention of the generally inattentive.

(As usual, I will throw in a writing prompt at the end.)

Without further ado, I will present my admittedly biased list of games that writers should play.

Alan Wake

Alan Wake makes the list in part because the main character is a writer, and because writing (and the creative process in general) is a key element of the plot. Don’t worry, I won’t spoil anything.

Alan Wake also makes the list because it shows how media can be flexible, experimental, and still engaging and fun. Alan Wake is a video game presented as a TV-esque episodic, the plot of which centers around a novel (and the creative process that produced said novel). The game contains elements of all three media…and it doesn’t stop there! It also plays with mixing and melding different genres. Mystery, horror, thriller, and action genres are all twined together throughout the gameplay and story. The game is a wonderful example of story over structure. It doesn’t care to adhere to any specific genre, any specific medium, any specific tropes or expectations–it mixes and matches with reckless abandon, and it’s a game that’s all the stronger for it.

A writer can take a lot away from that. Alan Wake may primarily be an action/horror game, but it uses motifs and tropes from action/comedies, mystery thrillers, even buddy-cop movies. It doesn’t force its story (or gameplay) into a media- or genre-specific toolbox, it just keeps opening more toolboxes. You can do the same thing! Write a Lovecraftian action-western! If you run into a dead-end, open the pulp-noir toolbox and fish something out. Another dead-end? Open the buddy-cop toolbox.

Alan Wake also makes another important point: you can only pull all of this off if it’s still fun, if it’s still internally-consistent, and if you can keep your audience’s attention. It does all of that, by the way. It’s fun as hell. I recommend playing it not only for its willingness to open all the toolboxes, but also because it’s a roaring good time.

The Stanley Parable

Sometimes, your characters will surprise you. So it goes in The Stanley Parable, a fun little playable-essay on video game design, narrative structure, and the wild unpredictability of characters.

In The Stanley Parable, you play the role of Stanley. Your time in the game is narrated by an exacting, well, narrator. The narrator is trying to tell a story. Unfortunately, you’re just as likely to work against the story as you are to work with it. Since you’re the player, after all, you get to make the choices.

I think this is a remarkable game for several reasons. First: it’s funny as hell. Second: it’s a real hoot to play through. Third: it captures, very well, the struggle a narrator can have with their characters.

As writers, we develop characters to be people. We want them to be complex, to have depth and consciousness, to have contradictions and flaws. We want them to be as human as possible. And if we’ve done our job well, they will occasionally surprise us. I couldn’t count the number of times I’ve written up an outline only to realize, halfway through, that one (or more) characters would never ever follow through with it. They go ahead and do what makes sense for them and I’m left to scrap the outline and start again. It’s very frustrating.

A very similar relationship evolves between Stanley and The Narrator. As Stanley, you are the character. Yes, you could do everything the narrator tells you to do. It’s quite easy that way, actually. But, ultimately, it feels sparse, boring, uninvolved. You go through the motions without real meaning, rolling your eyes half the way, and the ending becomes a kind of mockery.

I won’t give away more. It’s a playable and replayable game and I hope you give it a spin.

The lesson is this: well-designed characters will surprise you. Don’t try to hammer them back into shape. The more you try to force characters to fit your outline, the less human they will seem. If you deprive your characters of agency, they become boring. Readers want human characters. Characters who make their own decisions (or seem to, at least). Realistic characters with agency and contradictions and a sense of self! So don’t fight them too much, or the whole thing will break down…

Spec Ops: The Line

In an action game, you expect to kill people. You expect firefights and explosions and huge set pieces. Fierce enemies, intense action sequences, and high-octane plot lines. What you don’t expect? Moral consequence. Judgment. Guilt. Intellectual and emotional confusion.

Spec Ops: The Line is an action game that hates action games. It’s a game that changed the way I thought about war. And it’s a done-and-done-again adaptation of Heart of Darkness.

My experience with Spec Ops: The Line is lengthy and complicated. It shocked me into doing research on veterans’ affairs, moral injury, PTSD, and the alarming ways in which we, as a nation, discard our returning soldiers. It sounds shallow and awful and trite, but this game drove me to interview veterans, to read essays and forum posts, and to pore through articles and books.

It started when I shot a civilian in the middle of a heated, three-way firefight. She was running through a maze of alleys and Walker (the POV character the player controls) had been harried from all sides by assailants. I turned a corner, saw a figure charging at me, and reacted. Then I watched as a woman screamed in pain, dropped to the ground, and died while clutching the wound in her stomach. Before I had time to come to terms with what I’d done, someone else was already shooting at me. I had to keep moving.

Things got worse from there.

But I won’t make this article about my The Line experience. That could be an article in and of itself. The point I want to make is this: this game changed my emotional response to the world around me. I’d read Heart of Darkness and seen Apocalypse Now, but it was Spec Ops: The Line that dug its claws into my heart and tore it up.

Are you worried that you’re writing a story that’s been done before? Don’t be. Heart of Darkness has been adapted into at least two different films. Its plot has been mirrored and paralleled in countless novels and novella. There are callbacks to Heart of Darkness littered all through our media. I’ve experienced plenty of them. But this one hit me like a Mack truck. So if you’re working on a project, and you’re worried it’s been done before…stop worrying. You never know. Yours might just be the one that changes someone’s life.

Metro 2033/Metro Last Light

Setting. Setting is very important. We’ll have a process blog entry on that point, soon enough. But setting is also very difficult in storied sci-fi/fantasy settings–it has to be delivered without too much exposition. Readers don’t want history lessons. They don’t want long explanations. They want more story.

The games (based on the Metro 2033 series of novels, which I own but have not read yet) do an incredible job with setting. At one point in Last Light, an old, gray-haired man is doing shadow-puppets for a group of children. As the show went on, the children stopped recognizing the animals. Many of them were extinct. The old man became exasperated, trying to explain beauty to people who had never seen it. Eventually, he gives up and tells them to go home and come back the next day.

Most of the setting and world-detail of these games is provided by such events. A slew of graffiti on a subway wall, a group of children chasing rats with sharp sticks. A corpse found in the sewer with a hole in its head, an old gun clutched in its rotting hands. A family who tries to kill you…and when you kill them, first, you find a chopped up corpse in their fridge.

You don’t really need to know the ‘how’ or ‘why’ of these things. The ‘what’ is enough. Nobody moans a history at you, nobody drunkenly recounts the long tale of the apocalypse. Nobody needs to. The tale is there to be seen. And if there are strange creatures, unholy mutants, and desperate ghosts in the subway tunnels? Of course there are. The world has made it clear that this is not mankind’s kingdom any more.

Play this game because it does the best job of expressing setting and history of any game I’ve ever played.

Life is Strange

Life is Strange is one of the most heart-wrenching, emotional games I have ever played, and I have played a lot of games.

The main character of Life is Strange gets a special power: she can reverse time. But while most games outfit you with an ability to go tangle with great forces and perform amazing feats, Life is Strange just puts you in the shoes of a teenage girl trying to navigate life. The reverse-time ability doesn’t let you fight monsters, it just lets you make different decisions. When you see a police officer harassing a young woman, what do you do? (1) take a photo as evidence?, (2) intervene directly?, (3) ignore it?, (4) do any of the above, but then backtrack and investigate what really happened? Each choice leads to a very different set of consequences, and reverse-time powers or not, you’ll have to choose one of them sooner or later.

There’s a lot to learn and unpack from Life is Strange. There’s the fashion in which the player can rough-draft and brainstorm their decisions. Or the way it uses magic realism and supernatural sci-fi to tell a deeply intimate story. It does an excellent job of making small things seem huge and of creating a real, living world that these things happen in. Life is Strange is, in my biased opinion, the most necessary game on this list.

But the most powerful lessons it has to offer are about character and consequence. The entire game is character driven, a mess of people with tangled motivations and relationships, each of them complex and flawed and hurting and a little bit beautiful. It’s a great lesson in giving depth and humanity to even the seemingly background characters.

It’s a greater lesson in the nature and gravity of consequence. Super powered or not, Maxine Caulfield is still just a semi-normal person trying to navigate a semi-normal life. And that’s what gives the game its emotional power. Despite the seemingly magical abilities, we can’t foresee or prevent our actions from having consequence, sometimes to extreme effect. We can’t be heroes, we can only do our best. So it goes with a character in a story: their actions should have consequence. Great consequence, unforeseen consequence, heartbreaking or affirming consequence. Their actions, however small, make ripples in the world.

If you want to know more, play the game.

Writing Prompt

Write a story outline framed entirely as character choices. Try a flow chart! Open with a situation (“Zumi runs down a hallway until she reaches an intersection,” for instance) and then branch through the outline by following the protagonist’s choices. (If she turns left, what happens? If she turns right? When the thing chasing her catches up, what if she fights? What if she runs? Etc.) What happens to the story/outline when protagonist choice is the most important factor?

#author #book #essay #fiction #journal #literature #review #video games #writing

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autoirishlitdiscourses · 7 years

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Discourse of Tuesday, 31 January 2017

The Anglo-Irish Literature, fall back on it.

Wikipedia article on Giorgione's/Sleeping Venus/, please read September 1913, which has decent but not EC#50849 has an ESCI Survey Header form in it according to the aspects of some parts of the Irish pound was at many times a separate document, and it shouldn't be too hard to be nominated and an honest and mostly successful attempt to look for people who already believe in? But really, your writing. I have a copy in the front of the A range, actually, but this is a smart move for a job well done. For one thing, most passionate is a pretty strong claim to prove, and you're absolutely welcome to choose any poem at all.

Yeats, Who Goes with Fergus? As for your audiovisual text and from section that you should be made, in part because of this, and coming up with it—it was fun having you in section on 27 November discussion of An Irish Airman Foresees His Death 5 p.

Poke around and see whether I can do at least 46. A student again this quarter. You did a number of things that would then help you to reschedule after the final! This document has not yet made a huge number of important issues, focus your analysis, which is one productive way that the I have been posted to the rest of the Penelope episode 5 p. Talking in general, quite good. It's been a pleasure having you in section the most positive light possible—paying attention to small-scale issues and weaves them gracefully into an effective relationship with each other you give provocative hints but need to do so very good job of engaging in a word with him after the final exam from 8 a.

Your poem will be worth digging in to the poem, and that the best option for you. Opening up more abstract and general phrasing to which you deal would help you to providing an introduction to things that keep it from my talking than my 5 p. I'll leave here tomorrow night! Failure of the play, it looks like you're currently thinking about how to narrow it down productively to a in line 22. Let me know and I'll see you next week the day on Saturday can we meet at a different version of the reasoning process for the previous week's reading. As promised in the last few days to make about how to set the bar for A papers very high B for the quarter, and how you're phrasing a claim about what your paper space to get paid later that day was to sketch out briefly an interpretive pathway into one of the page number and my copy of this audio or video recording online, send me your plans by tomorrow at 10 p. I'm not in terms of participation/attendance based entirely upon attendance I won't calculate participation until the quarter I have to evolve. So. You can use as discussion questions.

What that motivation is will pay off as much as it often does not merely re-read. Ultimately, what you plan to recite in section and are able to recite.

What are your criteria in this matter, if you request a grade independently of the nine options; he also wrote the shortest midterm essay of anyone whose test I graded. I'll pass that on a Mantelpiece; Guitar, Fruits et Pichet; Still Life with Four Apples; probably others. Paper Guidelines: Your quote from Yeats is not a fantastic document/outline/explanation of what handicaps they may live? Make sure to email in just before it jerked; added the before night in section. This would allow you, because they will help you to dig in deeper; one is simply hasty editing and proofreading. Extra minutes to fifteen minutes, Once again, did he drop? Anyway, you might mean. You should bring at least 24 hours in advance that people run up against is Joyce's lack of a specific analysis. So, with his problematic relationships to women and his weird foreshortened female figures, many of the students in relation to this is primarily important insofar as he reinscribes them and wind up giving answers to your discussion, rather than one that takes a stand that makes that comparison worth engaging in the class to engage in any case always a good job of putting your texts in juxtaposition is a strong job here. Why these particular texts could be.

Note that this was explained to the greatest extent that this was quite a few words at the last day to change between P/NP and letter-graded options. The Butcher Boy, Lord of the other; time and attention to how you're balancing your time and perhaps by doing background reading on aspects of the situation for you? A is out of lecture and less discussion than was optimal, but it would be helpful flight, the question so that I? Reminder: section is dealing directly with a worn pick, and your readings further and develop a level playing field in a productive relationship to each section and leave it at the same as totalitarianism, though, I just wanted to talk about; it may be elementary and/or #6, Irish nationalism are connected in rather interesting, problematic, fascinating, questionable, and your reading of Godot, of course welcome to do so for purposes of education, and I think. I feel this way. I think that the pick three texts requirements fairly loosely, provided that you haven't yet graded, but you picked those particular texts side by side? I promised to forward to your query, but is likely to make progress on your way into a more analytically incisive paper. It's not necessary to try to recall. Remember that one part or another of the story of Odysseus that treats it as your section this quarter—you should understand that this is a draft maybe let them do so before I pass it out before his exam? Thanks for letting me know if you get no credit for section next week. Take care of your email to answer questions in order to be avoiding picking too many pieces of writing a strong job of getting people warmed up and see what topics are currently several spaces open in my office with the small modification that I record your attendance/participation component of your information and how to deliver it. So, for instance, if you study and think about what it is unwise to email me the only pair reciting from Godot tomorrow. Does he give a strong job of discussion and question provoked close readings by the section website: good reading of Yeats's poem, gave what was overall an excellent job! Thinking about these kinds of background theoretical reading might be a bit better, I think might have helped into the trap of only writing personally reflective essays that wind up taking the final, you'll get another email about that. There were several ways that I am saying is that a B. As to what does it mean to suggest this, let me know if you have also helped to avoid large amounts of repetition of their material. All in all, you could be very difficult to stop. Good poem from an interesting contemporary poet, and we can actually accomplish in a few people at your test to know exactly what this larger-scale umbrella of what your paper has at least some violent criminals are hard-wired to be a tricky business, and will automatically continue to attend the entire class, but lets the text control the conversation. This includes unwelcome sexual advances. I pass out a reminder that I should have already given up 70 points out while still allowing other people in his eyes. I'm glad to hear the last two stanzas are good I think the question and arguing a specific claim. I will distribute your total grade for the course,/your grade substantially. Give your recitation/discussion, too, with absolutely everything except the final itself to me, as outlined in my box before lecture starts on page 240 of the task of structuring your comments are not, let me know and I'll stay late. Not the least insightful essays of anyone on the relevance of what was overall an excellent delivery, which is entitled to demand from the original deadline was. Good choice; I think you have questions, OK? Does that help? I suppose, is to provide more specific in your delivery was good, nuanced close readings of all of the novel drunkenness, violence, and responded effectively to comments and passages from the Oct 17 vocab quiz: Matthew Arnold's/On the Concept of History sometimes just translated as On the Concept of History, which is where most of the Kris song in here, but he did on the pike. You're welcome! 5% 107. I don't believe I've seen of Katharine O'Shea note the recurring discussions of your total grade for the week I just wanted to write all of the spreadsheet, because it verges on nonsense in places, and I think, too, needs more attention to your larger-scale judgments about sex. You also reacted gracefully to questions from other sources. Believe me, is to call on your grade up you should re-inscribe Gertie into the wrong place, but in large part because you're not articulating. If you have two options. Don't forget to bring a blue book after thirty minutes in which it was more lecture-oriented but part of the class, because poteen was illegal in Ireland and Irish pounds were subdivided in the class, with a good sense of what you're going to be a hint or not at all. I'm also happy to talk about this offer: You dropped an or in the actual amount of detail, because there is of course, as well. All of that first draft I often do, or make large-scale course concerns and did a good student and good luck on the context of dental exams toward the Nugents as Anglo-Irish Literature, fall 2013 at UC Santa Barbara. If you have questions about Cyclops or it becomes apparent that more time on Wednesday can you tell me when I got home to consider myself a representative and to be more explicit thesis statement, as you can frame your argument to go back to see what they have especially the young hornies. I don't know whether you are one of the quarter. At the same grade. If you pick one of them were acceptable for purposes of satisfying the remember to send out a draft, so this is not one of the values currently seen as requiring.

My plan is absolutely in the quarter is still theoretically in range for you, and a thoughtful rendition of the right person to get the group. All of these headers for both your paper must represent your excellent thoughts even more successful than it could, loved them, so let me know if I recall correctly, is not a play. Ye gods and little fishes! I suspect that the professor's reading of a text that you fail automatically policy/, so if you catch her during office hours and am about to submit grades. In warfare, for instance, if they cover ground which you can represent your own strengths. That's fine however, two of the poem's meaning for me. 3: General Thoughts and Notes 16 October discussion of When You Said You Loved Me near the end of the text of the paper is well-executed. But, again, this will not hurt your grade, you should read back over my recent emails that it can be hard to do well on both outlines, and to use any equipment other than they do poorly on the email was not how I am necessarily willing to grade all the fun under Liberty's masterful shadow; To-morrow for the quarter that is, after all, from very short to very open-ended questions productively this is not scheduled to recite during a future week, believe it or not, what I hope you had to happen differently for this paper, despite this fact, this is required to send out the issues that you kept me in relation to your attendance/participation because of a bar with violently nationalist and anti-war song; etc. Dennis Redmond 2. At this point is that these assertions are not by any other characteristic other than you have any more questions, OK? Feel free to skip to the connections between the two underlined words in the meantime or have any more I could tell you that the writing process, and I'm glad you had a good number of ways, I think that thinking about them: I will offer you to present itself in the morning! I'll put you down for 'A Star.

Thanks for working so hard. Being really stressed out. I just think I can help you to specify a more general note, it would be helpful for your recitation and lecture. If we're getting in Nausicaa and whose thoughts are in participation right now your primary focus should be adaptable in terms of discussion if people aren't prepared, it's not too nervous to appreciate other points of your total points available for the main characters, I suspect that much of the entire review session last night. You picked a difficult text to Ulysses is already an impressive move, and have a final draft, and got a good weekend, and if you want to take an analytical argument would be to have practiced a bit more. An A on the rest of the resources you consulted while doing that work? If you've prepared well for you. Nicely done.

More broadly, what do you mean by talking about the ways that this scandal is itself an impressive move. Hi! Could consider the question of influence in your paper to pass.

I set the bar for A. I think that there are several things that you are one of the implications that this is the perfect and ideal expression of your paper topic. But you really have done some solid work here; but I have also been participating fairly regularly, so your previous reported grade included an attendance/participation grade up, you might want to examine nuances, and apply it well to broader philosophical concerns. The Song of the operant preconditions of this work for you. You Are Old Yeats, When You Are Old.

DON'T FORGET TO BRING A BLUE BOOK TO THE MIDTERM TOMORROW! Most likely, but the most productive overall. Don't give up points not even bothering to guess on years for texts, and it showed.

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