The power of sound in writing

It would be a very interesting experiment to watch a group of people read “Mrs. Kelly’s Monster” behind a two-way mirror. To be a witness to the vast array of facial expressions that would occur would be fascinating to me.

However,  if someone would have recorded my face from the time I started reading the article until the end, I would make sure to burn that tape. I can only imagine the range of expression I would have emoted for my audience.

When a piece of writing is capable of  making the reader physically feel uneasy or anxious, that’s when the writer knows he or she simply hasn’t told a story. The writer has made the reader part of the journey in the writing.

It is obvious why Jon Franklin won the Pulitzer Prize for this piece. He did not miss a single opportunity for description, most especially with his brilliant use of capturing the sounds of the operating room.

When he describes the loudspeaker that produces an audible popping sound with “the steady pop, pop, popping,” my own heart began to “pop” in the same rhythm every time he brought that onomatopoeia back into the story. In addition, the electrical “bzzzzt as he burns the bleeder closed” forced me to clench my fist and scrunch my face as though I had experienced the physcial pain caused by the action.

Along with the sounds, Frankin’s use of the time throughout the story creates a great sense of urgency and anxiety. It is interesting to think a trinket that goes “tick, tock” can have an enormous effect on people’s lives. But if one stops and thinks about it, some of the most stressful occurrences of everyday life result from looking at a clock.

When people look at clocks and realize they are late, they stress out. When students are taking a test and realize they only have five minutes left and still have several questions to answer, they stress out. When a person has trouble sleeping at night and continues watching the clock, he or she stresses out. In this story, the doctors and assistants knew they did not have much time to complete the surgery before Mrs. Kelly’s heart would fail, and  they, too, could not handle the pressure.

The use of time also allowed the reader to understand the  delicate pace the doctors and assistants were going. In between each new time announced, very little movement had occurred in the procedure.

When the procedure failed, I felt as though I was actually sitting with Dr. Drucker as he bit grimly into his peanut butter sandwich. In fact, I actually got up from my chair and made myself a peanut butter sandwich. Because I felt I had shared that experience with him in the operating room, I thought it was appropriate to share in our defeat together.

‘It’s such a good feeling to know you’re alive’

Even at age 21, I still have lessons to learn from you, Mister Rogers.

Reading “Can you say…Hero?” was exactly what I needed tonight after receiving some difficult news this afternoon. One of my classmates from high school passed away last night after battling cancer these past few months, and it’s times like these that force me to reevaluate my own life.

It is so easy to get caught up in needless worries every day, but upon receiving today’s news, I was reminded of the profound message in Mister Roger’s famous closing song, “It’s such a good feeling to know you’re alive.” However simple this statement may seem, we must all be reminded  that it is a true blessing to wake up every morning knowing you’re alive and in good health.

I found a clip on YouTube of him singing this song, and immediately the tear ducts went to work. The song has no fancy accompaniment, nor does Fred provide big vocals, but I suppose that’s what makes the song strike a chord with me. The beauty lies in the simplicity of the words alone. The lyrics don’t need any other support.

I’m thankful Tom Junod reintroduced me to the Mister Rogers I knew as a child.  However this time, the lessons I learned 17 years ago as I sat in front of the TV in my Princess Jasmine pajamas take on a whole new meaning. Mister Rogers talked about making his heaven here on earth. As a child, to me that meant extra play time, staying up past bedtime and sneaking a chocolate chip cookie in before dinner. Now my heaven consists of taking the time to appreciate the many wonderful people who have welcomed me into their lives.

After this difficult day, thank you, Mister Rogers, for reminding me to take the time to look every person in the eye and to never rush an encounter with another person. It could very well be the last encounter I have with him or her.

Most importantly, I am grateful you reminded me of the power of even the simplest of prayers.

“Thank you, God.” You truly have made life too easy for me.

Accounts from the North Tower

It is surreal to think it has been nine whole years since the day my grade school principal came into my seventh grade classroom to interrupt morning homeroom business only to create a memory that will last an eternity.

She didn’t say a word as she first entered the room but walked straight to the TV mounted on the wall and said, “Something has just happened. We need to watch this.”

I’ll never forget the way she said those words. She normally had a very calm and cool approach in carrying out her duties as principal. But in that moment, I noticed the glaze of fear in her eyes and the tremor in her voice. I was certain something truly horrific had just occurred.

She turned on the TV and there stood the North Tower with the black cloud of smoke engulfing the building. The second plane had not hit the South Tower yet. We watched a few minutes before our teacher told us it was time to take our history test planned for that day, which to this day, I’ll never know how any of us managed to pass.

I came across this New York Times article from 2002 yesterday as I was looking through some old 9/11 articles.

http://www.nytimes.com/2002/05/26/nyregion/26NTOWER.html?pagewanted=1

After page five in the article, I could not read any more. At first, my mind almost tricked me in thinking I was reading pieces taken from various horror novels. Then I remembered by page five that no, these are not pieces of fiction. These are real people, and the people these victims called while trapped in the building actually experienced these horror stories, and these poor family members and friends must live with these memories forever.

I think the reason these pieces are so haunting is due in part to the excellent interviewing and storytelling by James Glanz, who was a Pulitzer Prize finalist for his World Trade Center articles. Glanz doesn’t just report the devastation; he makes the reader feel as though he or she is with the loved ones of the victims as final phone calls are made–as the last strings of hope begin to fade away.

One of the most difficult pieces to read deals with a husband and wife who had been talking a few minutes while the husband was trapped in the building, but the phones lost connection. She tried dialing to get through to him again but was not successful. A few minutes later, she received a phone call, but no one was on the line. After three minutes of saying, “Hello, hello?” She hung up and dialed *69. It went straight to her husband’s voicemail. He had tried to say one final goodbye, but he didn’t survive to say those final words.

Taking lessons from 10-year-olds

Are you in need of love advice? Ask a kid.

After reading Susan Orlean’s, “The American Male at Age 10,” I started some online searching for words of wisdom from some of the most observant human beings on earth: 5 to 10-year-olds.

When asked about their thoughts of  love and marriage, here’s how some of them responded:

“If falling in love is anything like learning how to spell, I don’t want to do it. It takes too long.” –Glenn, age 7

“No one is sure why it  happens, but I heard it has something to do with how you smell. That’s why perfume and deodorant are so popular.” –Mae, age 9

“On the first date, they tell each other lies, and that usually gets them interested enough to go for a second date.” –Mike, age 10

For more hysterical quotes, go to this website:

http://entertainmentquotes.tribe.net/thread/0e8b2545-6bd4-4730-8969-d801ece0f3b2

I couldn’t stop laughing out loud at these little gems. All kids need to do is speak the truth, and they automatically have a captive audience. No phony acts are required. They just have to be themselves. If only adults were capable of accomplishing this feat every day; one can only imagine what a different world it would be if adults could still possess the truthfulness, perceptiveness and wit of a child.

Susan Orlean’s feature captures every single one of these qualities in Colin. I was particularly impressed with her ability to observe all the details of his life from his clothes, to his interactions with other friends as well as his unfiltered views of the world.

I had an English teacher in grade school who would always tell her students, “Show me, don’t tell me,” when it came time for students to do some writing. I struggled to understand exactly what she meant by this back in the day, but it all makes sense now, especially after reading a story like this one.

Orlean doesn’t just state the facts about Colin. She shows how he deals with everyday interactions and how his very perceptive self takes in the world.

I particularly liked the part when the kids were in the pizza shop and they “went outside, where they felt bigger” after the teenage boys would not let them play the arcade game. I thought that was a very clever piece of writing. She could have stated that the boys were short, but instead she allowed the writer to visualize their size in comparison to the taller boys inside. Definitely a “show, don’t tell” approach.

By the end of the story, I felt as though I was inside Colin’s head. Orlean didn’t just write down the quotes capturing Colin’s wit and observations. At times she takes note of the pauses in his thought process by using ellipses or even blatantly stating a pause in his speech. She almost provides a map through Colin’s head as she jumps from quote to quote.

I know Colin Duffy now thanks to Orlean’s extensive amount of time spent reporting and asking questions, and most of all, because she obviously befriended him during the process. She was genuinely interested in taking in every part of his life, and in turn, she was blessed with a new understanding of her world.

My big red tub and writing

Thinking back to play time with my two older brothers during my early years, I distinctly remember our big red tub of Lincoln Logs.  The tub was filled with hundreds of those little wooden sticks, which had been passed down in my family for years. From the looks of them, one would think they actually got hit by a Civil War cannonball with all the cracks and wear and tear on those things.

However, I can take a guess that over the years the damage was done because all my family members before me did exactly the same thing as me before playing with them. I would always turn that big red tub over and dump every last log onto the tiled basement floor. By that point I didn’t even care that much about constructing little log houses. The real rush came from “the grand dump.”

When it comes to my writing, I can’t think of a better image for my process than the 4-year-old me turning over that big red tub. I would like to think that after 16 years of education I would have absorbed a thing or two about the benefits of organizing and outlining my thoughts before writing; however, that’s never been my style. The spilling comes first. The organization comes later. I never know where my mind will take me as I type out my thoughts, and I enjoy the adventure along the way.

My goal this semester is to actually try the outlining and organizing technique before I write. I might be pleasantly surprised by the amount of time it will save me in the long run. I think my reporting would also value from spending more time organizing quotes and planning my story around them. In the past, I’ve made the mistake of not having an exact framework for my story, and I end up losing direction halfway through writing it.

As I share my thoughts about various online news stories or Broadway World and Health blogs this semester, I’ll try the planning approach. I may not be successful, but it is reassuring to know that my thoughts will eventually organize at some point, just as the logs eventually organized into little log metropolises.

Speaking of things crashing to the ground, check out this news story from MSNBC:

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/38877692/ns/travel-news/

As the plane was flying over the North Sea at the time, I’d like to know if anyone actually stood by the emergency exit with a seat cushion in hand only to find out the message was not true. I bet that person would have felt really cool in that moment standing there with his seat cushion.