Reminders for Monday!

Hello students! I hope you had a great day of practicing while I was away. Just a few reminders:

• Your independent novel must be read for Monday. Some of you have some intense reading to do this weekend!
• Groups will be presenting their Dracula scenes on Monday as well.
• Next Friday is a PD day for you!
• Remember to check the due date on your library book. Try to go to the library to renew your books before you get late fees! You should be going on your own time, not during class.
  

Welcome back!

I hope you all had a great March Break! Now that we are recharged and refreshed, we are going to start a new unit! Here's an overview for this week:

Monday - Introduction to Dracula; discussion of Gothic Literature; read article; introduction to play, vocabulary

Tuesday - Start reading Dracula - parts will be assigned for bonus marks

Wednesday - Continue reading

Thursday - Continue reading; Act 2 Presentation Assignment distributed

Friday - Mrs. Bentham is absent today (at an off-site learning team meeting); you will have time to practice your presentations for MONDAY in your groups.

Important:
Please have your independent novel finished for Monday! Your assignment will be distributed, and your silent reading time will be transformed into time to work on your novel study activities. As always, if you have questions or concerns, please talk to me!

Mrs. Bentham's Short Story

In class today I used the media projector to write a short story in front of you. The purpose of this was to demonstrate when to use paragraphs and how to punctuate dialogue properly. For any of you who wanted to know what happened in the rest of the story, I have finished it! Here it is:

A Modern Fairy Tale
By Mrs. Bentham

The prince rode hard, squinting against the dust and rays of sun blinding him. It had been a long journey, but the end was in sight. Three years ago he had set out from his homeland because of the promise of a treasure greater than he had ever imagined. Now that treasure was within reach.

The tower was silhouetted starkly against the grey clouds. The prince was overjoyed; finally, he had almost reached his destination! He spurred his tiring horse, urging him to move more quickly toward their goal.

He dismounted hastily, scarcely bothering to tie up the horse. He tore open the door, ignoring the groaning hinges, and propelled himself urgently up the spiralling stairway. So close – he was so close!

There she was! The most beautiful woman in the world!

“At last I have found you!” the prince cried, his eyes brimming with emotion.

The princess looked the prince up and down. “And why do I need to be found?” she sneered.

“Why . . . aren’t you a damsel in distress?” he stammered.

She choked back a laugh. “Are you for real?”

“Yes.”

“And you seriously expect me to be happy that you burst into my home without invitation, probably breaking my antique door in the process, and came in here like some . . . medieval buffoon?” she laughed. “What century do you live in?”

The prince stared blankly at the princess. When his parents sent him on this quest three years ago, they had promised him the most beautiful wife the world had ever seen. They had urged him to woo her to unite the two kingdoms. They had failed to mention that she was a feminist.

The princess eyed the prince coldly. When her parents sent her to this tower three years ago, they had promised her a better future. They had urged her to accept her suitor to unite the two kingdoms. They had failed to mention that the suitor believed he was saving her.

The princess had not been raised entirely without manners. She softened visibly, and invited the bewildered prince to sit down.

“Let’s talk about this calmly,” she said. “I apologize for the cold reception; it’s just not every day someone bursts into my home. You startled me. Usually I get monthly visits from home bringing me supplies.”

The prince stared around him. The tower was lavishly furnished with everything a princess could want. He suddenly felt embarrassed. Maybe he wasn’t rescuing someone. He felt more like he was breaking and entering.

The princess smiled gently at the silent prince. Immediately he could see why she was the most beautiful woman in the world: she was radiant. That made him feel worse, and he couldn’t think of a thing to say.

“Well,” said the princess, “maybe we should look at this logically. Our parents have put us through this charade in order to unite our kingdoms, although why they did not choose a more conventional method of betrothal I will never know. There are certainly economic and political reasons for the kingdoms to unite, don’t you agree?”

“Guh?” said the prince. “I mean . . . uh . . . guh-reat idea!”

“What?”

“I mean . . . ahem!” The prince stalled for time. He had not been listening to her discourse so much as looking deeply into her eyes. “I agree!”

“With what?” the princess asked skeptically. “Here I am trying to figure out this situation logically and you don’t even have the decency to listen!”

“Listen. I’ve been on the road for three years. I’ve been away from my home for so long that I don’t know if anyone will recognize me when I return. I came expecting . . . I don’t know, something else, and you haven’t exactly been welcoming. Give me a break.”

“I will certainly give you a break,” the princess said haughtily. “I didn’t ask you to come here in the first place!”

“Listen lady –” were the last words the prince uttered before he was none-too-gently shown the door. After his ears stopped ringing from the slamming of the door, the prince found himself face-to-face with his horse.

“Women,” he muttered as he remounted and rode away toward home.

This Week

Hello students!

Here is this week's plan at a glance.

Monday - Short Story Writing Workshop assigned; don't lose your booklet!

Tuesday - Work period - compose the rough copy of your short story.

Wednesday - Proofreading Workshop - follow the instructions! Please remember that I won't be in class today (having dental surgery) so I expect wonderful behaviour. Make sure you have your rough copy in class!

Thursday - SHORT STORY DUE!! Don't be late! We'll start a fun activity today.

Friday - Finishing the fun activity; this day will have a special schedule for Sherwood Idol.

As always, please see me if you are having difficulty! Furthermore, if you have any outstanding work from the short story unit, make sure it is in BEFORE March Break.

Creative Writing Activity 2

An Encounter Under the Lamppost

The lamppost stood tall and straight in the evening shadows. There was a little rust around its base, and its light had dimmed with age, but it was still the same beautiful lamppost it had been all those years ago when oil lamps first lined the city streets. Those were the days before kerosene when whale oil was still popular and the whales were not extinct. The lamp had been converted to burn kerosene, but even that was becoming rare as the wasteful age of fossil-fuel energy was finally stalling out.

Preserved by city decree, the lamp stood as a testimonial to forgotten years when men wore tall hats and women wore elegant dresses and exchanged smiles of goodwill and gestures of kindness. Those were the days when a handshake still sealed a deal and men honoured their word. All that had changed now. Smiles were tightlipped mockeries of the original thing. People hid behind deceptions, insinuations, lies, and half-truths, shaking hands as a leftover formality from bygone years.

Zachariah felt like the lamppost. He did not fit in with the bustle and hustle of the modern world. He did not understand computer games and car racing games. Instead, he learned to whittle wood. Sometimes he thought he had inherited more than just his great grandfather’s name. Sometimes he thought his great grandfather was in him, a part of him, guiding his hands as he cut and carved until the soul of the wood was set free in beautiful ornate carvings.

It was late evening. The harsh light of day had been replaced by the soft glow of the city lamps. Zachariah sat with his back pressed against the lamppost eyeing his last carving. It was a bear. The proportions looked all right, although it was hard to tell for sure. He used pictures to guide his carving. Somewhere behind him, he heard the sound of footsteps cracking on the old, cobblestone courtyard. Time to go, he supposed, tucking his whittle knife in his pocket.

“Where do you think he got to?” a harsh, guttural voice whispered. Zachariah froze.

“He’ll be here,” a second voice said.

“But he’s late.”

“Shhh,” the second voice hissed. “People will hear you.”

“There’s no one here,” the first voice complained.

“Shhh,” the second voice hissed again. “Your impatience will be your downfall. Remember, you are here to observe only.”

‘I know, I know,” the first voice whined, “I stay hidden in the shadows. I don’t say a word. You do all the transactions.”

“Good. Now get back. I hear someone coming.”

There was a shuffling of feet as the hoarse-voiced man shifted back a few paces. Just as Zachariah was contemplating whether to run or stay, the thick crunching steps of a third person came out of the shadows.

“Have you got the item?” a sinister voice asked. There was a rustling sound of an object exchanging hands. “The scroll?” the voice asked.

“Yes.”

“Good. You know what to do next?”

“Yes.” The scuffling feet moved off back down the alley.

“What do we do next?” the rough young voice asked, staring after the departing shadow.

“We kill the king,” the older voice said with a sigh.

“What? That wasn’t part of the deal. You never said anything about killing anyone.”

“Do you want to save your sister?”

“Of course but –”

“Then you must accept the consequences of the deal.”

“But . . .”

“Either you are a man and you will go through with this or you are still a sniffling boy from the back alleys of Tyr. Which is it? Decide now.” There was a harsh edge in the second voice, an edge that showed neither weakness nor sympathy. Zachariah found himself drawn to the voice. Bit by bit, he eased his body around until his chest was pressed against the lamppost. He poked his head out just far enough to see two burly shapes dressed in black.

“Ho, who are you? Who’s that?” the smaller figure said, pointing.

Activity

This story is very mysterious. Many details are left out, and the situation is unclear. You are to choose one of the two following creative writing activities:

1. Rewrite this story from the perspective of the two mysterious figures. Take the information from the story and make up a situation that would have caused them to come to this meeting under the lamppost.

2. Write an ending to this story that explains the situation from Zachariah’s perspective.

Your story should be 1 to 1 ½ pages, double spaced, typed if you have a computer available to you, or neatly written if not. Remember the elements of short stories (plot diagram) and make sure that your story follows this structure.

Due Dates

Just a reminder to students:

-Your "Lamb to the Slaughter" news article is due TODAY.
-Your "Bald is Beautiful" news article is due THURSDAY.
-"Encounter Under the Lamppost" creative writing activity is due MONDAY.
-You have a short story unit test on THURSDAY.

Next Week:
-Your original short story will be due THURSDAY.

As always, see me if you need more time for any of your activities, but be prepared to give me a good reason for your lateness!