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Week 27: Midnight Musings

April 1, 2018


               It is 12:18 a.m.  It seems this is the time I do my best or worst writing. I can never really tell which one, until the next day when the clarity of daylight helps me decide if what I wrote was garbage or actually decent.  The difference tonight is that I am not writing from a journal in my bedroom but rather publishing for all of my students and the rest of the world.  Thank goodness there is an edit button, but here is a promise, I am not going to use it tonight, not this time because I want you to see what raw writing looks like.  It's not always pretty and polished, especially after midnight, but it should always be expressive, which is something I saw from you guys in your writer's workshop this past Monday. 


                 I had you guys assume the role of one of the characters from To Kill a Mockingbird.  I love that many of you decided to pick a very unconventional character, such as Calpurnia or Miss Maudie.  Many of you picked Boo Radley.  It was a fairly safe choice. I only gave you ten minutes to write your "I AM" poems, which is not much time I know.  That was by design.  I wanted you to see that in a short amount of time you can still produce something, but it can always get better, which is why I am going to give you time in class this upcoming Monday to do a rewrite.


         I want you to stretch your writing, revise it, expand it, rearrange it.  I hope you will let me do the same, as I have clearly butchered the blog this week.  Nonetheless, because I asked you guys to write an "I Am" poem I will commit to do the same.  It is now 12:26 p.m.  I get the same 10 minutes you guys received and time on Monday for a rewrite, fair?


My person is Harper Lee.  Here goes.




                    I am an icon or so they say

                    I wish I had never written this dreaded novel

                    I wanted to be a writer

                    I guess I have only myself to blame

                    I never imagined how it would all turn out


                   I want all of the questions, stares, and autographs to stop

                   I am Amassa (A.C.) Lee's Daughter, Alice Lee's sister, friend of Truman Capote. 

                   I put down my pen. 

                   I silence the questions.

                   I feed the ducks each day. They do not want autographs


                   I know my time is coming

                   I understand this nursing home is my Radley House

                   I want it to be this way

                   I watch my final Alabama Football game

                   I say goodbye at last


                   I am Nelle Harper Lee


It is now 12:37 p.m.   I went one minute over the time limit, but I think you would all agree I should get an extra minute since the brain does not function well after midnight. 


Full disclaimer: I know my poem needs work, and I am okay with that.


That is why we edit.


Time for Bed,


Mrs. Bell







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