Memoir Notes.pptx

Memoir Notes Week 2 What is a Memoir?  Memoir A memoir is a narrative, written from the perspective of the author, about an important part of their life. Authors choose a pivotal moment in their lives and try to recreate the event through storytelling. The author’s feelings and ass...

Memoir Notes Week 2 What is a Memoir?  Memoir A memoir is a narrative, written from the perspective of the author, about an important part of their life. Authors choose a pivotal moment in their lives and try to recreate the event through storytelling. The author’s feelings and assumptions are central to the narrative. Memoirs still include all the facts of the event, but the author has more flexibility because he or she is telling a story as they remember it. Memoirs must include a lesson or theme!  Small Moments A small moment captures life moments of tension, pivotal points, and life themes. You will have to choose ONE small moment to write about for your 100 Word Memoir For example: Big Topic = Playing soccer Smaller Topic = My first soccer game Small Moment = When I scored my first goal  Brainstorming Sketch a simple floor plan of your house/townhome/apartment (It can be where you live now or in the past.) Feel free to include your backyard or driveway! Think about important events that happened in different locations Did you learn any lessons? Pick one for your small moment! 100 Word Memoir In 100 words, describe a moment from your life when you learned a lesson. Use sensory detail, character thought, and/or dialogue if you can Why 100 words? It forces you to revise and focus on only the MOST important moments! Make sure your theme is clear  Exemplars Melanie: It was already seven o’clock and the annual party had just started. My face was painted sugar skull white. The backyard was purely lit with twinkling white lights hanging across the patio and swirling around the maple trees. The tables were filled with sweet Day-of-the-Dead treats: pan dulce, pan de muerto, tamales, champurrados, and bunuelos. An altar stood alone in the center of the party. Pictures of our past loved ones were displayed. Sugar skulls, tissue paper flowers and marigolds or flor de muerto scattered the tables. Instead of grieving their deaths, we spend our evening celebrating our loved ones. Exemplars Rachel: I sit on the edge of a moment, on a rock ledge that drops hundreds of feet below into an evergreen ravine. I’m halfway up the summit of Mt. Adams, my last peak in the Presidential range. My father stops me for a photo. I climb cautiously to a ledge that overlooks a glacier-carved canyon with cascades of emerald forest blanketing its walls. The summer heat casts a haze over the mountains in the background, yet visibility still reaches for miles and miles and miles. This moment is bliss. Each peak summitted I call my own; these mountains are mine.  Exemplars Kissing J Austin As soon as my lips touch his cheek, I know this is a mistake. I’m already seriously awkward and Pammy has pushed me forward, so I nearly knock him into a shelf full of beakers. Supposedly every girl in the 7th grade is kissing J. Austin for his birthday, but at this moment I realize he isn’t in on the plan. He rights himself and stares at me… horrified? disgusted? Red-faced, mortified, I retreat from the science supply room. Behind me, the popular girls titter and flit around him. How many girls kissed him that day? I never dared ask. Exemplars Fueling the fire My three-year-old daughter was trying to roast a marshmallow for the first time. Her first and second attempts ended in flames. Both times, I took the scorched marshmallow off of the roasting stick and threw it into the fire. The third time, I helped her a lot more and, together, we achieved a perfectly toasty golden brown. Once it was cool, I handed her the marshmallow which she promptly threw into the fire. No one had told her she was supposed to eat it. —Submitted by Lou Roess, Parachute, Colorado. Exemplars A very special finish My son, Mark, volunteered to help Cherie, a young runner at a local Special Olympics. Cherie was happy and enthusiastic. Mark encouraged her, kept her calm, and helped her know when it was time to line up for her race. When the starting pistol sounded, she took off like a lightning bolt, leaving her fellow racers behind. As she neared the finish line, she stopped, turned around and motioned for the other runners to hurry. She waited for them so they could all cross the finish line together. —Submitted by Debra Holley, American Fork, Utah Exemplars My masterpiece I was four, playing outside in the humid Kentucky air. I saw my grandfather’s truck and thought, Granddad shouldn’t have to drive such an ugly truck. Then I spied a gallon of paint. Idea! I got a brush and painted white polka dots all over the truck. I was on the roof finishing the job when he walked up, looking as if he were in a trance. “Angela, that’s the prettiest truck I’ve ever seen!” Sometimes I think adults don’t stop to see things through a child’s eyes. He could have crushed me. Instead, he lifted my little soul. Exemplars Tiny tree A neighborhood kid with branches and leaves sticking out of his pockets and a headband came into our front yard. He looked like a little soldier in camouflage. “I’m acting like a tree so butterflies will come,” he said. As he waited on the grass, I brought out a huge blue preserved butterfly I’d purchased in Malaysia and hid it behind my back. I walked over, kneeled, pulled out the butterfly, and said, “A butterfly has come to see you.” He gasped, and his eyes widened. His wishes won’t always come true, but one did that day. —Submitted by Monte Unger, Colorado Springs, Colorado.  MS. STANTON'S eXAMPLE First Draft - 165 Words The door creaked as I opened it and flopped down into the low seat. Barely a foot off the ground, I felt like I was practically sitting on the asphalt of the road. It was hot and muggy, so I reached over and cranked the window. One, two, three, four, five, six cranks and she was down. I put the tiny, worn key in the ignition and turned it with a prayer. She rumbled to life. The radio came on too- a mixture of static and musical noise. I threw her in reverse, and she let out a loud squeal. I shrank in my seat as the students in the parking lot turned. “Come on, Betsy,” I muttered. I patted the dashboard, and the squeal sputtered out to a steady roar. “Thank God,” I thought, as I pulled into the line of traffic exiting the lot. As I idled behind a yellow bus sprinkled with students, I thought, “At least I’m not one of them.” Second Draft - 125 words The door creaked as I flopped down into the low seat. Barely a foot off the ground, I felt like I was practically sitting on the asphalt. It was hot and muggy, so I reached over and cranked the window. Only six cranks, and she was down. I turned the tiny, worn key in the ignition with a prayer. She rumbled to life. I threw her in reverse, and she let out a loud squeal. I shrank in my seat as the students in the parking lot turned. “Come on, Betsy,” I muttered. I patted the dashboard, and the squeal sputtered out to a steady roar. As I idled behind a yellow bus sprinkled with students, I thought, “At least I’m not one of them.” Third Draft- 100 words The door creaked as I flopped down into the low seat. Barely a foot off the ground, I felt like I was practically sitting on the asphalt. I turned the worn key in the ignition with a prayer. She rumbled to life. I threw her in reverse, and she let out a loud squeal. I shrank in my seat as students in the parking lot turned. “Come on, Betsy,” I muttered. I patted the dashboard, and the squeal sputtered out to a steady roar. As I idled behind a yellow bus, I thought, “At least I’m not one of them.” Notes to improve my draft: Try not to start as many sentences with “I” Figure out how to further emphasize the fact that the car is old? (Radio, windows, etc) Try to vary sentence structure more Do I like how it starts? 4th Draft – 100 Words Saying a prayer, I turned the worn key in the ignition, and she slowly rumbled to life. The radio came on too- a mixture of static and musical noise. Exhaling, I carefully cranked down the windows. One…two…three… I threw her in reverse, and she let out a loud squeal. The sound seemed to reverberate off the school walls. “Come on, Betsy,” I muttered, as I shrank down in the low seat. I patted the dashboard, and the squeal sputtered out to a steady roar. As I idled behind a yellow bus, I thought, “At least I’m not one of them.”