Mr. Zaunius chose to start his writing unit with memoirs because it is a great way to jump into writing. When writing about yourself it is easier to get started and allows you to produce more writing. When writing about yourself it makes it so that you look at your life and reflect on what is important about your life. Mr. Z specifically assigned a 100 word memoir to help kids practice getting the fluff out of their writing as well as focus on the words and images that really matter. Overall Mr. Zaunius wants his students to understand that who they are matters and that what they say matters.
Owen Estrabrook, Sophomore
The Fall
It was 2:00 in the afternoon on the day of my 8th birthday party. We were playing in the slow, trickling creek attempting to catch the tadpoles with our miniscule nets and rejoicing when anyone was able to catch one. Soon I craved my favorite food; Doritos. Once I had satisfied my hunger with some delicious nacho cheese Doritos, I stood on a large boulder overlooking the creek. Without warning, the bolder dislodged and started stampeding down the walls of the creek, with me behind it, soon crashing into the water with a massive splash, nearly missing everyone below.
Hannah Bordofsky, Sophomore
WHY WE HAVE NEW HARDWOOD FLOORS
Baby Lily needs to be cooled off. I twist the rugged red knob and water comes gushing out. Taking one big step from the outside stones, I cross to the white-tiled kitchen floor. Dragging the running hose through the kitchen, stepping to the hickory finished hardwood floor. Almost to the carpeted bedrooms. Water pools around my ankles. The hose tugs me back. I pull harder, slipping. This time I pull with all my might, my hands and knees on the floor for balance. The hose doesn’t budge. Giving up, I drop the running hose and go outside to play.
Leland Sutter, Sophomore
Lil Uzi Diamond
The old memory is a haze, Running with a smile on my face, on the floor with a dent in my forehead. The jagged rusted pole got in my way. As I’m laying on the dark cold wet wharf, faces surround me as I am tagged. At the moment for the first time being tagged didn’t faze me, the warm sticky red liquid was giving me the nasties. Waddling over to my mom she lets out a gasping shriek. Blood is running into my eyes and mouth. The white towels turning red started to pile up. The blood was not stopping anytime soon.
Madeira Thomas, Sophomore
Suspect in Hiding
It was a beautiful, sunny day at the park with my friend and our moms. We picnicked and played on the playground, carelessly oblivious to the danger just 30 feet away. The persistent hum of a helicopter would grow louder then quieter, again and again, making us all subconsciously anxious. We were unaware that just over the bridge, in the creek, there was a criminal hiding from the police. Because of this anxiousness we decided to go home. Later we found out about the criminal and were glad we went home.
Ryan Ewart, Sophomore
Slingshot
A clear sun shone through weirdly formed clouds on Avon Street, which held the picture of three friends and I ready to test our luck with a broken arm. A surf leash attached to a bike seat on one end and my hand in the other stretched with tension as the rider on the seat took off. He took a right turn, way too sharply, in my personal opinion, which ended in a large arch for me on my skateboard. I looked over at the rider, and yelled my frustration, but was cut off by the crash of my body into the headlights of a Prius. My luck had run dry.
Izzy Mack, Sophomore
Precipitation
Tears from the sky began to plummet down to the earth. Rushing over to the pane window sill, my eyes traced the path of each singular drop, as if they had been silver coins. My fingertips pressed against the cold glass, not breaking my gaze, as my mother gathered my smooth rubber polka dot boots, and wrapped a scarf around my neck. Opening the door, venturing out into the treacherous, yet daily, weather conditions of my hometown. Childhood bliss surrounded my inattentive emotions, it was days such as these, days that created an unexplainable reassuring sentiment of anticipation.