Monday, May 11, 2009

Hole in My Life Book Review

Hole in My Life was written by Jack Gantos in 2002. This book tells of his teenage years, right after graduating from high school. He managed to get caught up in a drug running scheme. We hear about the joyful days spent sailing a ship full of hash, and also about the gruesome nights spent in solitary confinement in prison. This story focuses largely on the life experience that Gantos gained during these times. The main character is named Jack, and he is 20 years old. The story takes place in California among other places, in the 1970’s. Jack is confronted by a man offering him a large sum of money if Jack only helps him smuggle marijuana into the U.S. jack accepts, and soon gets entangled in the glories and perks of drug running. Eventually, karma catches up, and everyone involved in the operation gets arrested, and thrown in jail.
The theme of the story is that there are laws and rules for a reason, and abiding by those laws is usually the best choice. In this book (and in his life), Gantos did not follow these rules, and was punished. The mood of Hole in My Life is very energetic. Jack is discovering a whole new world. This is his first time on his own, and he travels, writes, and has fun.
I enjoyed reading this book a lot. I liked how the author developed jack so well that I actually felt as if I knew him. I felt invested in the conclusion of the story; I was sad when Jack got caught, I was nervous while he was in jail, and I was ecstatic when he got out. This one of the many aspects of Gantos’s writing that makes it so enjoyable to read.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

FREE REIN

Wings flap as it soars through the open sky
The freedom is impossible to imagine;

No boundaries are known, and none can be implemented
No regulations that must be adhered to
No deadlines of any type

There is little that I would not give up
If only to have that for a day

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

OMS Essay

The power of nature is often overwhelming, especially when one is ill prepared. Nature can change the course of events in story, a movie, or even someone’s actual life. In The Old Man and the Sea, Ernest Hemingway’s character, Santiago, constantly battles with the unchecked power and unpredictability of the sea, and many of the creatures that inhabit it. He fends off sharks, battles with a giant marlin, and weathers the harsh conditions that he encounters.
Of the many obstacles that face Santiago during the story, the marlin us surely the greatest. After 84 days without catching a single fish, Santiago finally has a chance to prove to Manolin, the other fisherman, and himself that he is not a failure. In a way, Santiago needs this fish. “When the sun had risen further the old man realized that the fish was not tiring”(53) The way that the marlin is battling to get away and Santiago refuses to give up, shows that the marlin represents Santiago’s fleeting self pride. Santiago will go to great lengths to recapture this pride, even if that means sacrificing his body, and possibly dying at sea.
In order to catch a 1,000 pound fish, tremendous strength and physical shape is required. Santiago is very old, and his body, while still relatively strong, is beginning to weaken. Santiago’s less than ideal physique makes his task incredibly difficult. Well aware that he is not as strong as he once was, Santiago likely feels as though catching the marlin will be a task much too daunting for him, but instead fit more for a younger fisherman. “ Then the fish came alive, with his death in him, and rose high out of the water showing all his great length and width and power and beauty”(94). Santiago’s determination helps him to overcome the arduous task of capturing a giant marlin.
As is stated in the title of the novella, the sea plays a large role in the story. This is one of the most challenging obstacles that Santiago faces as he fights to capture his prized marlin and return it to shore. As previously stated, the Marlin is Santiago’s greatest challenge. The sea represents Santiago’s life, and the struggle between the fisherman and the marlin represent Santiago’s desperate attempt at reinstating his pride as a great fisherman. In order to free himself of his shame, Santiago needs to defeat the sea, and capture the marlin.
One’s pride is not to be taken for granted. A man who has lost his pride will go to incredible lengths to regain it, which is proved by Santiago. He struggles for three days against a fish five times his size, perseveres as his body withers, and combats the unstoppable sea and the creatures that dwell in its midst. Santiago’s story is one that we all can learn from, and is a story that should be told for ever.

Monday, March 2, 2009

Third Quarter Outside Reading Book Review

Serena by Ron Rash. Harper Collins, 2008. Genre: Fiction

Serena is the fourth novel written by Ron Rash. The newlyweds George and Serena Pemberton move to the mountains of North Carolina. There they have a logging company, and George also has a son that he had with a local girl. Serena quickly proves that she is worthy of the respect of every man in the camp. Serena learns that she is incapable of bearing a child, and so she tries to kill the baby that Pemberton had with the local girl. Pemberton tries to protect the baby without Serena knowing, but she finds out. This causes a rift in their relationship, adding tension to the plot.
“Together this lord and lady of the woodlands ruthlessly kill or vanquish all who fall out of favor.” (Book Jacket) This quote sums up the general idea of most of the story. Pemberton and Serena, surviving in the mountain wilderness, making their permanent marks on the lives of everyone the come into contact with.
As you can guess, the conflict of the story is the fact that Serena wishes to kill Pemberton’s son, and he has to try to protect his son, while at the same time appeasing his wife. Apart from the well-developed conflict, the setting was described with great detail. Rash uses uncommon adjectives to describe some things, but it always leaves you with a clear mental image of the scene that he wished you to see. The time period, 1929, is also portrayed very effectively. The characters all wear the type of clothes that would be worn in the in the 1920’s, and the dialect also sounds as if Rash actually traveled back in time and studied the dialect and diction of the era.
It may seem odd, but the writing style of many authors annoys me a great deal. At first I thought that Ron Rash was going to be another one of those authors that I can’t stand reading. Well, it turns out that my assumption was far from accurate. I am not sure whether it is the balance between contemplative thought and hectic commotion, but something just kept me interested in the story, even in the slowest, simplest parts of the story. I would gladly read another one of Ron Rash’s stories, and I very well may do just that next quarter.

Monday, February 2, 2009

Attack of the Town


Kearton Pennsylvania is a small arboreal town about two hours outside of Philadelphia. There are only about 9,000 people, most of whom have lived there for their entire lives. Life goes on normally in Kearton. The kids attend school during the day and help out with chores in the afternoon. The fathers work all day long, and the mothers stay home to tend to the gardens and babies. From the outside, Kearton seems like an average town.

Jon stepped carefully down the sidewalk, making sure not to step on any cracks. He was very superstitious. Today was a long day. He had three exams before lunch, and by the time the day had ended, Jon had managed to get detention from two of his teachers. Some would say the he had a knack for trouble, but then again, what fourteen year-old boys don’t get in trouble every now and then? As Jon hopped and skipped to avoid the cracks in the sidewalk, a beam of light glinted off of a coin on the ground right into his eye. Already annoyed, Jon wound up to kick the coin into a nearby yard. He stopped himself halfway through the rotation of his leg, as he had noticed that the coin did not look like any that he had ever seen before. It was about two inches in diameter, made of silver, and had minuscule specks of gold in it. There was an engraving on it which read, “Take No Prisoners” in bold letters. Intrigued, Jon pocketed the coin and headed home to show his brother.

The rest of Jon’s walk home led him through the dense forest surrounding Kearton. For about four miles, he saw virtually no sign of human life. Strangely, he also did not see any animals among the fauna either. There were no birds conversing with each other from the tree branches, no squirrels jumping acrobatically from tree to tree. This seemed a bit odd, but did not register as anything two suspicious. Jon kept on walking, thinking about what his father would do as a punishment for his two detentions.
Jon finally came out of the woods and stepped on to the road. Right away he noticed something odd; there were no cars on Main Street. Not one car was driving, stopped at a traffic light, or even parked in a parking lot. He looked around, confused at what was going on. All of the sudden, an immense heat began emanating from his pocket. Eager to stop the heat, Jon deftly reached his hand inside the pocket and pulled out its contents. A dollar bill, yo-yo string, a few pieces of lint, and the coin tumbled to the ground. Recovering from his shock, Jon bent down to take a closer look at the coin. At first glance it seemed the same, but after careful examination he noticed that the golden specks had turned a dark shade of red, and the inscription was different. It now read, “Success”. At this point, Jon was really beginning to get freaked out. He had no clue what was going on, and just wanted to get home. He hurriedly grabbed his possessions from the dirty road and sprinted off toward home.

All the way home, he did not see one person. He did not see a dog, or even a cygnet. He did not see anything except for deserted streets, empty restaurants, and vacant drugstores. By the time Jon reached his house, he was out of breath and covered in sweat. It took a moment to collect his courage, but Jon soon began taking tiny steps toward the front door of his house. When he reached the door, he grabbed the knob, took a deep breath, and opened it. Jon did not see anything at first. A rancid odor overwhelmed his nostrils though, and he immediately felt sick. Jon pulled his shirt up over his nose and mouth and continued to walk deeper into his house. When he entered the living room, he was appalled at what he saw. Lying prostrate on the ground, arms and legs out were three figures, one of which was quite pudgy. After a second, Jon lost his countenance when he realized that they must be his mother, father, and brother. He made a violent guttural sound, and then stood silently for a few moments, unsure of what to do. Looking at his father who was wearing very tattered clothes, he noticed that there was something clenched tightly in his fist. Jon bent down and slowly pried open his fathers hand, exposing a coin that was very similar to the one Jon had. All of the sudden, a figure swooped unheralded down through the ceiling and nearly hit Jon, but he manged to dive off to the left at the last second, and an eddy of cold air rushed past him. The figure quickly turned around and sped towards him once more. Immediately he was filled with compunction. This time there was no evading it. The malefactor went straight into Jon, who screamed for a split second, and then died very quickly. Jon was but one of the victims of an attack by the creature on the town of Kearton, Pennsylvania.

Thursday, January 29, 2009

Sunrise Over Fallujah Book Review

Walter Dean Meyers has a gift for portraying the atrocities of war, but also for shedding light upon the thoughts of the soldiers. I recently read his new book Sunrise Over Fallujah, which is the sequel to Fallen Angels. The story follows the young Robin Perry, an African American eighteen year old as he survives his tour of duty in Iraq. Robin is the nephew of Richie Perry, the protagonist of Fallen Angels. The story takes place in Iraq at the beginning of Operation Iraqi Freedom back in 2003.
Robin signs up for the Army after graduating from high school, much to the dismay of his parents. He gets assigned to a CA (Civil Affairs) unit, and his squad’s main goal is to basically show the civilians in Iraq that the Americans do not just want to kill them all, but we want to help. Throughout the story he becomes close friends with another African American soldier in his squad named Jonesy, who is a “blues guy”. This relationship plays a major role in the story, as it helps to accentuate the theme of the story which is that people are typically good, and are willing to risk their lives in order to protect others. There are several possible conflicts of the story, but that one that was most obvious to me was the internal conflict of Robin. He wants to believe that he is helping the people in Iraq like everyone is saying he is, but Robin has a difficult time believing that after witnessing American troops kill many Iraqi civilians with misplaced shots and airstrikes. Robin battles with this from the beginning of the book until the end.
As I read more and more of the story, I realized that it was oddly similar to Fallen Angels in many different ways. In Sunrise Over Fallujah, many of the soldiers are African American, just like in Fallen Angels. Also, Jonesy is very much like Pee Wee from Fallen Angels. The plot was also very much the same. During both books there was moderate action, with some chapters being intense, while others were laid back, and at the end of each book there was one battle scene in which a main character was either injured or killed.
After contemplating it, I don’t think that I would recommend this book to someone who is looking for a thrilling war story, but maybe to someone who is just looking to learn a little bit about the conflict in Iraq. Sunrise Over Fallujah seems to be written in a more simplistic style, with very few words that confused me, and a story line with relatively no twists. If I were to recommend it to someone, it would be someone in seventh grade or below.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Value of a Morning Run and Soccer Cleats

What is the definition of value? Some might say that something valuable has a high price tag, but others might say that something valuable is something that brings great enjoyment or happiness. However you define it, you probably have things that you value, as do I. I value a run on a cool fall morning, and I also value my Diadora LX soccer cleats.

My alarm sounds, and the hard rock of Ozzy Osborne singing “I Don’t Wanna Stop” fills my ears. I lay there in bed for a few minutes, just relaxing, staring at the ceiling. Once the song ends, I let out a sigh and slowly rise from my bed. I slip on my socks, shorts, shirt, and shoes. My black Under Armour covers my arms, and my thin gloves cover my hands. I walk in to the kitchen where the first glints of morning sun shower everything with a warm light. I scribble a note on a piece of scrap paper telling my parents that I will be back shortly, and I walk out the door. The brisk air of the early morning fall touches my skin, sending a chill reverberating throughout my body. I start out with a slow jog, building up my pace until I am warm. I stay at that pace for a good two miles and then sprint the last one hundred meters. I stretch out my tight muscles, and then begin to head home. This time I keep a smooth, consistent pace, and exhale every time my left foot touches the ground to prevent cramps. With each breath, I feel the cool air flow into my lungs, and then out again.

I open the gray cardboard box, and inside are the most amazing things I’ve ever seen. My new, pearly white Diadora LX cleats look amazing. I slowly and carefully remove them from the box. With deliberate motions, I spin them around, admiring every detail, from the blue spikes to the hand stitched seams. I put them on and tie the laces. Since they are so long, I have to wrap the laces around the bottom once before tying them. Once both shoes are tight on my feet, I grab a ball and rush outside. When I step on the grass, I look down and all that I can see is light. Blinding light, redirected from the sun off of my cleats, and into my eyes. I find the ball, and flick it in the air. I begin to juggle, alternating feet. The kangaroo leather holds very well.

Both taking a long run on a cold morning, and my soccer cleats are things that I value. One is a material possession, while the other is not. My run on a cold morning a critical part of my day. It wakes me up after a long nights sleep, refreshes me, and starts off my weekend on a positive note. While running, I am able to think very clearly. It is almost as if the cool air brushing against my face takes all the cluttered thoughts in my head and organizes them for me. Thanks to these runs, I have been able to come to many good decisions. My cleats allow me to play my favorite sport successfully. Without them, I would be slipping all over the field, and would be a very ineffective player. They cost me $90, which is not a lot of money compared to some things, but for cleats that is a fairly expensive price.

My morning run and my cleats both represent a part of my identity. My cleats represent my love for soccer and sports, and my run signifies my pride in being in shape, and the enjoyment I get in having some time to myself.I can honestly say that I would be lost without either of these things, and to me, they are both truly valuable.