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Hello Everyone! A few weeks ago in my Creative Writing class we started talking about Flash Fiction. If you don’t already know, flash fiction is where you come up with a story, but only tell a little bit of the story. If you’ve ever heard of the iceberg method, it’s perfect to think about when you’re writing flash fiction.

The example of the iceberg above shows what a character reveals about themselves, versus what actually exists. And in flash fiction, you only reveal what’s above water; the rest is left up to the reader.

One of my favorite pieces of flash fiction that I’ve read is The Weight by Anne Enright. (If you’d like to read here is the link https://www.newyorker.com/books/flash-fiction/the-weight) After reading this piece, there were so many questions I still had, but I realized that I didn’t actually need them answered to understand the story. That’s what flash fiction is.

When I write flash fiction, I feel like I’m barely writing an introduction or conclusion. That’s the stuff that you should really keep small in flash fiction, and instead focus on the climax of the story. Introduce your characters a little bit of course, but keep them as a familiar stranger to the audience, not a friend. Maybe you hint to a previous event or time in the character’s life that led them to this event, or maybe you hint why whatever’s happening is a big deal to them, but whatever you do to tie this event to your character, make sure it’s just a hint.

For my class, our assignment was to write down 15 words that would eventually be used in our flash fiction piece. 15 words or phrases that were names of characters, key words in the plot, important words that should be put in the dialogue, and basically anything that we wanted to be in our story. So I wrote down my 15 words and started to get excited about my story, when my class was told there was a twist. We had to use someone else’s 15 words to write a story. Originally, I wasn’t too happy because I liked the story I had already started creating in my head with the 15 words, but when I switched, the 15 new words I got were… interesting. And I ended up creating a piece of flash fiction that is probably much cooler than my original story would have been.

My first story was pink in my mind, it was about a 15 year old skiier from Colorado who was training for the Olympics. I’m honestly not sure why I got pink from that, but I went with it and decided my skiier would not only be the best 15 year old female skiier, but the best 15 year old skiier. However, I had to give away this story, and instead got a much darker one. One that was as black as the night, and one that was begging to be a story darker than it first appears. (This is still a rough draft of this piece!!)

“Cynthia Novak. Nice to meet you,” she said as her cool, pale hand grabbed mine and shook it firmly.

 She was short, and her long blonde hair bounced up and down as she walked. As we sat down for our first date together, I couldn’t stop looking at her eyes. There was something about them that was intriguing, yes, but eerier. Almost as if I’d seen them before in some distant memory. They were blue, but it wasn’t a traditional blue. It was like the lowest point in the ocean, too low for even light to seep into. We had a fine dinner and asked the traditional first date questions, but I couldn’t help but get distracted staring into her eyes. We exchanged phone numbers, and while we were waiting for her cab, made plans to meet again on Thursday. But when Thursday rolled around, I started to get worried. I’d texted her 8 times, and called her twice, but I hadn’t gotten anything back. Still, I showed up at the theatre on Thursday and waited. After an hour, I mopped home, and as I was feeling bad for myself about getting stood up, I fell back on my couch with a carton of ice cream, and turned on the TV. It’s a good thing I hadn’t opened it yet though, because it fell to the ground the instant I saw the words on the bottom of my TV screen. “Young woman found dead outside of the AMC on W 42nd street. Identified as Cynthia Novak, the woman looked to be about 32 with blonde hair and deep blue eyes. The main suspect on the case at this time is Alessandro Alvarez, and police are looking for him now with a warrant already out for his arrest. The police have told the eyewitness news team that Ms. Novak was shot in the head and the gun was found, left in the alley of the crime scene with Mr. Alvarez’s fingerprints on it.” 

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. It was like I had gone into a state of shock when all of a sudden my phone rang. And it was her. I didn’t know what to do, and thank goodness my common sense prevailed and I declined it. Not even a second later, my phone was ringing again. And again, and again, and again. I couldn’t take it anymore and I finally answered. 

“So I’m assuming you’ve heard the news.” The cool voice said from the other end of the phone. 

I couldn’t seem to make my mouth form an answer. 

“Alessandro, my dear. Do you realize we’ve met before?”

“What?” I stated blankly. 

“I’m not surprised, you were probably too drunk anyways.”

“I’m sorry, this must have been some kind of coincidence, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, but I think you do. Believe me, this wasn’t a coincidence. I’m going to list a couple of names. Tell me if you recognize any of them. Aimee Stewarts, Joanne Levo, Tessa McGrath…”

And then it came to me. This collection of names, including her own were the names of girls I had met in college. When I was… a different person. 

“I remember.” I finally said.

“Thought so. You’re a monster, Alessandro.” She spat at me.

“Please, Cynthia, I’m changed now, you know I am. Please, don’t do this.”

“Cynthia? Cynthia’s dead. Did you not see the news? You killed her.”

“No. I didn’t, what are you talking about? Cynthia, please! Come on! I know it’s you!” I was screaming, but she wasn’t listening. I was shaking and all of a sudden I heard a ringing in my ears. Had I fainted? What happened.

And that’s when I woke up, breathing heavily, a pool of sweat surrounding me, and my wife still fast asleep next to me. As I looked at her, I thanked my lucky stars that it wasn’t real. At least not all of it. And just to be safe, I checked to make sure that Cynthia, Aimee, Joanne, and Tessa were all still blocked on all my accounts. If my wife found out the person I was in college, I can only imagine.

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Thank you so much for reading my post and my piece of flash fiction! Hopefully you’re finding the time to write during these crazy times we’re living in.

-Alaina

Hello Everyone and welcome back to Writing In Full Color! This will be my first blog post written as an e-learner instead of a student in a classroom. While there are so many things negatively changing with our lives and our world right now, I think it’s important to take a look at the things that don’t have to change, or things that are changing for the better.

Before COVID-19, I felt like I was moving 100 miles per hour. Homework kept me up until 1am and in addition to being a full time student, I have a job and am the co-founder of a non-profit organization. I felt like I didn’t have a second to even take a deep breath. And then all the sudden, it’s like I got in a crash and everything came to a screeching halt. All of a sudden I had copious amounts of the one thing I never had before: time.

As of today, March 30th 2020, I have been inside my house (aside from walking my dog and literally stepping outside on my porch) for 17 days. And in those 17 days, there hasn’t been a single thing that has been due which is a very odd thing for someone like me. I have still done all of my schoolwork and kept up with my assignments, but it is not the same at all. I have been keeping myself busy by writing, catching up on TV and sleep, hanging out with my family, and talking with my friends through facetime. For the first time in my life, I actually have the time to work on a major writing project consistently! But still, something is off.

As of March 12, 2020, I hated school. Hearing my alarm go off to get up for school was like torture, and I was just waiting and counting down the days until spring break, the light at the end of the tunnel. At that point I wasn’t even phased when one teacher after another handed one assignment after another and told me that it was all due before break. Most people tell me that I’m an optimist, and I generally agree, except when it comes to school. It’s hard for me to find the silver lining in the thing that consumes my life with busy work. But 18 days later, I’ve found layers and layers of the silver lining.

If I can hope for one thing that we as humans take away from this, is what we didn’t realize we were so fortunate to have before. After all this pandemic has taken from us, it leaves us with one thing: hope. Hope for a brighter future. And going into that future I hope to never take for granted seeing my friends at school everyday, going to my grandparents’ house, driving around and listening to music, going to the movies, giving someone a hug, and simply existing as normal. There was so much silver lining in my life that I had trouble recognizing, before but like the song “Let Her Go” by Passenger says, “you only miss the sun when it starts to snow.” So I hope just as we are now finally able to see the silver lining in our lives, we find the silver lining in these dark times.

Thank you for reading! Stay safe and healthy.

-Alaina

Hello everyone and welcome back to my blog! As I was trying to think of interesting posts I could come up with for today’s post, I was coming up short with my writing (as I am still very picky with what I’m willing to share:)) and so I settled on the idea of what is behind my writing. In other words, who and what inspire me to write, and why I do it! Enjoy…

Since I can remember, I’ve always loved TV. And since I can remember, it was always about the story for me. Sitting down to watch a TV show was always about learning what was coming next for the characters, feeling their happiness and sadness with them. And I’ve taken that with me for my whole life. And this is where it comes full circle. Because it all goes back to the story. Being a storyteller, I am inspired by so many of the amazing TV Shows and movies I have seen throughout my life, and the creators behind some of these masterpieces are my biggest inspirations.

And so I’m sure you could have guessed by now that because I keep mentioning TV shows and movies and the stories behind them, that I want to be a screenwriter, a director, and a producer. In other words, I want to be in charge of the story. But not just any story, because if I’m behind the script and the camera, there’s always going to be something… unique.

I believe that everyone has a story worth telling. And when I write, I always try to tell someone’s story. Someone who is in a situation where they feel like they haven’t been seen. My goal is to tell those stories. Because it’s become quite clear to me that when a loveable TV show or movie comes out, the subject of it is, well, loved more, and has more awareness raised about it. For example, I’ve never seen so many people be so into and so supportive of competetive cheerleading as I did when Netflix’s Cheer came out. And there’s a list over 5 miles long of all the adversity people face that they wish more people knew about. I know my synesthesia is one of those things…

So, when I write I try to remember everything that my pencil and paper is riding on. Because we all know by now how loud writing speaks. There are a lot of untold stories out there, and as a storyteller, it’s my job to tell those stories. For the people that can’t. That’s why my biggest inspirations aren’t just the people who wrote TV Shows and movies, but the ones who wrote something I’d never seen before. They told untold stories. And so everytime I debate whether I should write or go to sleep or relax or just simply not write, I try to remember why it’s so important that I do write.

Thank you so much for reading this today! I hope that just as so many of my biggest inspirations have inspired me to share my stories, that I helped inspire you to keep writing. Your story matters, don’t waste your chance to tell it.

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Welcome back to my blog! Today, I am finally going to talk about fiction! Although I love writing in general, to me, nothing compares to writing and reading fictional stories. A story can teach you so much about real life without even being real. And a really good story can change your life. So how do you develop one of these life changing stories?

The process is different for everyone, but every story starts with some form of a “What If” statement. For example, I wrote “What If” statements for my three favorite movies to understand what the process was like to develop them.

What if there was a place where all the misfits were celebrated and center stage?
What if someone who is the epitome of a starving artist in Hollywood gave up everything to make it big?
What if two people who couldn’t go near each other because of a disease fell in love?

These three movies were The Greatest Showman, LaLa Land, and Five Feet Apart, which hopefully you would know if you have seen any of them! All three of these movies have moved me in a way that inspires me to tell my own stories. And they all started with an idea…

Now the real question is, did these movies start with a character or a story? A dream come true would be to ask the creators of these movies, my personal idols😊, but since I can’t, I guess I’ll just have to wonder. When I got asked the question of world or character, I was stumped, and had a lot of trouble choosing. For me, ideas for stories come from my own life. I twist things that have happened to me, people I’ve met, or places I’ve been, and change them to become a real story. Interesting people spark the idea for a character and interesting situations spark the idea for a world. And when you finally land on the idea for a good story, you know it’s golden.

A good story makes you feel something, and it makes you aware of something that you maybe didn’t know before. It engulfs you in a world that you don’t exist in, but you can still understand maybe even better than your own world. Coming up with the idea for a story is hard, but to me, the most important thing is to remember the feeling you got inside of you when you first watched your favorite movie. The indescribable, “wow” feeling. When you come up with an idea for a story, whether it’s a character or a world, just makes sure it has that. And if it does, the rest comes easy. Well, maybe not easy. But it will definetly change the way you view your story. It will go from just writing to creating something truly amazing. ★★★★★★★

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Hello everyone! In my Creative Writing II class, we were recently promted to write a villanelle poem. Now for someone like me who is not the biggest fan of poetry, this seemed like a scary task at first, but I quickly learned that I could have fun writing poetry as well! If you don’t already know, (which I did not) a villanelle is a poem that follows a very strict structure with 19 lines, 5 trecets and a quatrain at the end. It also has an ABA ABA ABA ABA ABA ABAA format meaning that all the last word in all the A lines has to rhyme, and the last word in all the B lines has to rhyme. I definetly felt like I was in over my head, but after coming up with the couplet that would eventually be used in every stanza of my poem, the rest flowed out onto my paper easily.

To get the inspiration for my couplet, I looked into my soul and tried to find something deep that I can intwine into the lines that would become my villanelle. After a few minutes of soul searching, I realized that maybe what I was looking for was right in front of me. And then it came to me.

If you know me at all, you are very aware that my favorite color is yellow, my favorite season is summer and my favorite city is Los Angeles. And sitting here in Illinois in the middle of winter, it can be difficult to remember what the sun even looks like sometimes. So I thought, why not write a poem about my long lost friend the sun and the joy that it brings to my life?

The Brightness of the Sun

By: Alaina Frazier

Let the sunshine in your life thrive

From the second it peaks its bright, beaming head out,

For it keeps the fire in your soul alive. 

When your fears arrive,

And seem to consume you all throughout,

Let the sunshine in your life thrive.

Give it the space to survive,

Provide it the room to swim about,

For it keeps the fire in your soul alive. 

Even when you feel like you’re struggling to survive, 

Never let the consuming darkness defeat you in a knockout,

Let the sunshine in your life thrive.

Let the brightness take over and drive,

Drive you to success you cannot doubt

For it keeps the fire in your soul alive.

So keep up that jive,

And your constant flow of joy will never produce a drought. 

Let the sunshine in your life thrive,

For it keeps the fire in your soul alive.

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While writing this, I saw the sun peaking out between each yellow letter that I wrote. The individual letters were each their own unique color, but together, they made up the most beautiful color in the world to me, and the one that it had been too long since I had seen.

While reading the other villanelles that were written in my class, I couldn’t help but notice the main theme throughout all of them which was darkness and overall gloom. While I thought about doing something like this at first, I realized that what I needed was a little pop of sunshine on that day. And it made me smile when I saw that other people said that it brought them that same sunshine while reading.

So, if you’re reading this, I hope you take away a little bit more sunshine for your day, and for your life. Although sometimes I feel like many people think that the best writing has to have an element of drama and darkness, sometimes it’s best to just defeat that darkness. Let the sunshine win for once. It will make you and your readers happy. 😊

-Alaina

Hello Again! In an effort to continue adding my own writing to my blog, I wanted to include a personal narative that I wrote last year in my Creative Writing I class. This personal narative entitled “Life In Full Color” emulates the same theme as my blog! Hopefully after reading this, you’ll be able to truly immerse yourself into a world full of color because instead of just telling you what it’s like live with synesthesia, in this piece of writing, I show you. -Alaina

Life in Full Color

I could faintly see the reflection of my hazel eyes through the alarm clock. Looking at it, I saw yellow, green and purple, just like every other day when my clock went off. The blood rushed to my feet as the floor underneath me turned from soft and fluffy, to cold and smooth. After my hair was untangled, my eyelashes were extended and my cozy pajama pants became stiff jeans, I checked the clock again, but this time, saw yellow, orange, and green. My eyes widened and my heart began to race as I rapidly finished my morning routine and hurried into the kitchen. 

“Are you ready for your test today?” my mom questioned, watching me devour my cereal. 

“I think so, I studied a lot last night!” I responded. Even though I heard the words that she had said correctly, I saw every word in a different way than my mom, and in a way that she could never understand. My cereal turned mushy in my bowl as I continued to eat.

“What’s the date today mom?”

“September 6th, and it is supposed to be a super rainy and gray day, unfortunately.” 

“Interesting,” I  said thinking that since it was the 6th, it should be a bright and sunny day. I assumed that my mom had seen the same thing as me: bright sunshine peeking through that promising date and beaming out at us both. But September 6th to her was really just a gray day and nothing else.

When math class started, I could feel my hand becoming slippery around my pencil, and the only thing I could hear was the thumping of my heart getting quicker and quicker. The teacher used a green marker to write the end time of the test on the board, and even though I knew the color green wasn’t the real color of the numbers she was writing, I wasn’t phased as this is what I saw in every class, every single day. I knew that the teacher wasn’t wrong, but I didn’t think I was either. During my test, I circled both beautiful and hideous answers, but once again, I didn’t second guess them and continued on. As different waves and shades of bright and dark colors flooded in and out of my head, I thought back to the time when I loved math and laughed to myself a little. I enjoyed the challenge before, but now, all of the variables, letters, and signs had become too jumbled for me to find joy in this subject. Right now, the colors were out of my dreams, like a stunningly marvelous painting; but other times, they looked like something that you would cover up your child’s eyes for out of fear. 

I looked at the clock as I turned in my test, and saw purple, pink and green. I knew of course, that the time was 9:38, but I had never seen, and could never see those numbers without purple, pink and green immediately flashing into my head. Everyone else that I had ever met in my life would just see 9:38 as it was. Everyone else would only see what was there. And as far as I knew, what I saw was the same 9:38 that my family, friends, and teachers saw. I just didn’t know that not everyone got to live in the same world I did. I didn’t understand that the world I lived in was more colorful than everyone else’s. 

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How do sensory images affect the way you read a poem?

Sensory images take a poem from black and white to layers upon layers of color. Not only is the poem just words on paper, but it becomes a story with real people, real places and real things. Poetry with sensory imagery goes from just simply one dimensional to a whole other world that the author creates. Looking through my constantly color consumed eyes, poems without sensory imagery are colorful yes, but with sensory imagery, plain colors transform into real stories and real pictures. 

One example of a poem that I believe does an exceptional job of using sensory images is Blueberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney

(https://www.healthline.com/nutrition/foods/blueberries) 

Late August, given heavy rain and sunFor a full week, the blackberries would ripen.At first, just one, a glossy purple clotAmong others, red, green, hard as a knot.You ate that first one and its flesh was sweetLike thickened wine: summer’s blood was in itLeaving stains upon the tongue and lust forPicking. Then red ones inked up and that hungerSent us out with milk cans, pea tins, jam-potsWhere briars scratched and wet grass bleached our boots.Round hayfields, cornfields and potato-drillsWe trekked and picked until the cans were full,Until the tinkling bottom had been coveredWith green ones, and on top big dark blobs burnedLike a plate of eyes. Our hands were pepperedWith thorn pricks, our palms sticky as Bluebeard’s.We hoarded the fresh berries in the byre.But when the bath was filled we found a fur,A rat-grey fungus, glutting on our cache.The juice was stinking too. Once off the bushThe fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour.I always felt like crying. It wasn’t fairThat all the lovely canfuls smelt of rot.Each year I hoped they’d keep, knew they would not.

With synesthesia, the words in this poem individually produce words of all sorts of different colors that are mismatched and don’t fit the overwhelming blue color that is provided by the images the author creates. The words that the author uses to describe what this experience is like each have their own unique colors, but when they’re all laced together to create this story, the color of the poem completely changes. It becomes a beautiful blue that puts together the words in the poem with the story behind it. Using sensory imagery (for me at least) takes a poem from a series of different words to a group of pieces that are all put together to make up the story. 

Not only do these words help the poem to flow and band together, but it also allows the reader to truly see what the author wants them to and gives the author control of their writing. In the poem above, the line “You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer’s blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust for Picking” (Heaney) is a fantastic example of what sensory imagery can do to elevate a poem. The author could have just simply said the first blueberry you ate was sweet, and then let the reader think about what sweet means to them in this instance, but instead he described exactly what sweet was and gave the reader no room for question, just simply the room to imagine what this looks like. Picturing something that is “sweet” is a lot more difficult than picturing something that is “sweet like thickened wine: summer’s blood was in it leaving stains upon the tongue and lust for picking.” And the sensory image in the second sentence transforms the line from just an adjective to a true, imaginative description, and it turns a two dimensional phrase into a three dimensional story. 

“Color is a power which directly influences the soul.” -Wassily Kandisky. 

Hello and welcome to my blog! My name is Alaina and I’m here because I love writing. This blog will be a journey throughout my writing and looking at the writing of others through my eyes. However, looking through my eyes will probably be a whole new, crazy experience for most of you. To get a better idea, imagine that you’re sitting down to write, you pick up your pencil, and the second it hits the paper, you’re submerged into a world full of color, both beautiful and ugly. Every time you write an L you see the sun and every time you write an R you see a beautiful violet. For some people, this may seem like an idea that’s pure fantasy. Maybe even a good idea for a story! But, for a few people, like me, this is reality. I have a rare condition called grapheme color synesthesia which means I see numbers, some letters, and words in color. 

Throughout my blog, I want to allow you to get a glimpse into what it’s like to read and write with a rainbow pen. In some of my posts, I want to share a poem that I have either read or written and explain what it looks like through my eyes. Of course, as anyone with synesthesia will tell you, it is extremely hard to explain to someone who doesn’t share the same sense connection we do. So although you might not walk away from this blog seeing color for the rest of your life, my hope is that you’re able to add a little more color to every situation you’re in and to write more colorfully. 

Although writing allows me to experience a colorful world, this isn’t the only reason I write. As a high school student, I am faced with the challenges of rigorous schoolwork, prepping for college and my future, and even owning my own non-profit organization. So, when I am able to get a moment of free time, my favorite thing to do is write. Writing allows me to escape my fast-paced reality by slowing down and just having a chance to breathe. Over time, writing is something that I have become more passionate about, and that is why I hope to incorporate it into my career in some way. 

Since I am a high school student and this blog is being created through my creative writing class, in addition to personal posts, I will also be posting prompted posts as well as pieces I’ve written throughout my time in this class. Hopefully, you’ll be able to leave my blog with more color in your life than before! Thanks for visiting.

-Alaina