SAVE ME FROM MYSELF 🕇 (a book review)

Within 244 pages, Brian "Head" Welch documents the lows and highs (literally) of his career as the former lead guitarist of the metal band, Korn. His emotional roller coaster of an autobiography describes how he founded one of the biggest bands in the world, what the height of Korn's fame was like for them, and how he came to be a devoted Christian. 


I was recommended this autobiography by Mr Aitken, and I took up the opportunity to read it because I've heard a lot of Korn's songs, and have actually attempted to draw Jonathan Davis, the lead singer, a few times. Just seeing the cover, reviews and summary had me interested in it, and once I picked it up, I couldn't put it down. Brian Welch had such a captivating way of writing it despite never having written a book before. The book was tragic, especially when he talks about having to give away his first-born child, and when he did finally have another child, he barely spent time with her because of his drug addiction. The book gave me an insight into how devastating it is for not only the drug addict, but the people around him: in this case, Brian's daughter, Jennea. It broke my heart to have to read about Brian getting sober only for him to relapse, to become so violent he'd scare himself; only for my faith to be restored when Brian found the love and nurturing of God and allowed him into his heart. Reading what it was like for Welch to be baptised in the Jordan River (interesting fact: this was where Jesus was baptised) was my favourite part for me, personally (and also my Mum, who has strong connections to Buddhism and has even booked for a spiritual healing in Indonesia). 

Welch being baptised in the Jordan River (2005)

I would recommend this book to a large array of people of all ages: anyone who is interested in autobiographies, the band Korn itself, religion, or even if you aren't religious, in fact. I'm not religious myself but I still really enjoyed this book. It gave me a chance to see what life is like through the eyes of a Christian. It really is a great book, and I will definitely pick up a copy for myself if I ever get the chance to just to read it again and again. 

P.S: Brian also talks about how God inspires his songwriting. I had a listen to it and it's really good if you like metal: even better if you are a Christian metal fan. Here's a link to my favourite song by him: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5_2-Dn_xIc8

P.P.S: It's the last day of school tomorrow. This will be my last English blog post for the year, isn't that crazy? I'm posting something special tomorrow and I'm doing the Summer Learning Journey so I'm still going to blog all of Summer, don't worry :)

HORROR CAMPING TRIP 🕷 🕸 (part 2/2)

(WARNING: This is kind of scary. Not for the faint-hearted.)

It was the rustle of the leaves of the tallest tree hanging over us that finally alerted us and brought us to our senses again. For the past hour we'd been slumped over a homemade Ouija board. It wasn't much; Alex had managed to find a cinder block behind the tent and used a Sharpie, courtesy of Casey, to scrawl the symbols (which I personally found very creepy, yet amusing to see Alex fail at writing it out neatly and having Rivers do it instead) on it. Rivers found a piece of tree bark to act as the planchette, and Casey and I huddled around the fire in our jackets and socks. 

When it was completed, Alex stood up from where he and River were making a few final adjustments, lips stretched back into a grin, and we all huddled around next to the fire excitedly.

The first question asked: "If there are any spirits here tonight, please make yourself known."

"Rivers...."

"Yeah?"

"We haven't got our hands on the piece."

"Oh. Right." He said airily, pushing his hair back with pursed lips; a true act of flamboyance, Casey commented. 

My hands were shaking as I reluctantly reached out to place my fingertips on the planchette. As soon as I touched it, it sent shivers down my spine. Rivers, Alex and I all had our fingers on it... where was Casey's?

"There is no way I'm touching that thing, nuh uh," she said, sitting back from the board, tugging her sleeping bag so it was snug around her shoulders. "Come on," Alex insisted. "No way. I'm staying back here." 

I rolled my eyes, slugging Casey in the shoulder, earning an unappreciative yelp from her. 

"Come on, C, it'll be fun!" I begged. 

"It'll be totally fun," 

"Just do it, man." 

Casey exhaled sharply, finally gaining courage to join our fingers on the planchette, a cheer erupting into the air. 

"Right, now... everyone focus." Alex murmured, voice soft and dangerous, to set the mood. Rivers shivered with excitement. My heart was pounding so hard I thought that it would come right out of my chest and onto the fire. 

"If you are here tonight, please make yourself known!" Alex called. This was it. This was the moment the night had been leading up to... it was about to happen...

Nothing.

"Well, s**t." Casey muttered, shaking her head. Rivers let out a sigh of exasperation, Alex attempted to reassure us.

"No, no, don't worry- let's try again." 

And so we fell silent again, accompanied by only the chirping of the cicadas and crickets, and the crackling of the fire. 

I took a deep breath. Alex started again.

"Spirits, if you are here with us tonight, I want you to know that we are welcoming you and are here to hear your words of wisdom. Please make yourself known, if you are accepting of us connecting with you." 

My heart raced, hands shook, my toes curled into my boots and there were shivers down my spine. I looked up at the others nervously; they all looked anxious themselves, even Alex.

We were about to give up - Rivers was sighing impatiently and Alex just looked puzzled - when suddenly, I felt the planchette shift from under my fingers ever so slightly. It felt like I couldn't breathe as I watched it move across the board so slowly but surely... 

"H... E... L....L....O..." 

Casey yelped and jumped back from the board.

"Shush!" We all hissed at her. 

"Sorry," she mouthed, placing her fingers back on the planchette where it rested on the 'O' letter. 

"Hello, spirit. We are here with you. What is your name?" Alex stuttered, with a tone that told me that he was having a hard time believing it was real himself. 

For a few seconds, there was nothing but silence, and the fast breathing of Casey from next to me. 

Then, suddenly, the planchette began to move ever so slowly. "Alex..." I whined, trying to control my breathing, and failing. I watched as it made it's way up the board diagonally, across the letters... when it reached the number 8 and didn't move from there for a few seconds. 

"What the.." Rivers mumbled under his breath.

Then, it shakily moved it's way across one number.

"87." 

I stated. 

We all sat, stunned. The planchette didn't move, not until Alex asked the next question.

"Hello, 87, may we welcome you to our campsite. If you would like to answer, are you a boy or a girl?"

I recognised the pattern as it started answering more and more questions... after a few seconds after the question, it would move slowly with a long gap between each letter or number. In five minutes we'd only been able to decode the spirit's name and age (16) and gender (male). 

"How did you die, 87?" Casey spoke up. We all gasped to ourselves, shocked at the fact she was asking such a upfront question despite her nerves. 

87 didn't answer for a few seconds. Then, it moved towards the letter S. Then the letter U. 

"I don't like this..." Rivers said shakily. Tears welled up in my eyes, heart racing, chest tight, a lump in my throat and butterflies in my stomach. 

S-U-I-C-I-D-E.

"Alex!" I yelped, tears streaming down my face. "End it!" I cried. 

"No, no, no! We need to... just, stop, okay?" Alex said, panicking.

"Where did you die, 87?" Casey's voice rung out through the forest. Everything fell deadly silent. The girl, no older than me, sat with a blank expression staring out into the dark of the woods. 

"Holy s**t..." Alex stuttered under his breath.

87 seemed to answer quicker this time.

F-I-R-E. 

"Wh-what?" I sobbed, confused, but so entranced it was like I was being lead on by 87 himself.

"Where was the fire, 87?"

No one expected an answer this quick, but as soon as Casey uttered those five single words the planchette flew off the board as quick as lighting and flew across the campsite; until it hit the trunk of a redwood tree. 

Our eyes slowly trailed their ways up the trunk... until they came to a stop at a plank of wood sticking out from one side of the tree. Vines - blackened vines, that is, twisted around the planks and the walls of a once-beautiful tree house. The wood was burnt at the edges and a couple of planks were missing, nails sticking out at weird angles. 

"Alex!" I cried, letting out a scream that echoed throughout the woods. I collapsed into his arms, but he didn't move. He was staring at something so intently I had to look back at it myself. What I saw next was horrifying. 

One of the nails that was sticking out was red hot; glowing in the darkness. It remained like this for a while, before the heat spread and I saw the wood grow black. I could make out a flame now. The tree was starting to burn. 

"Run. Run, run now!" Alex screamed. And so he pushed me towards the direction of the road where Rivers was sprinting towards in his Ugg boots, shrieking. Just once, I glanced over my shoulder. Alex was screaming at Casey to get up. But she was still staring at nothingness. "Alex, leave her! Let's go!" I screamed as loud as I possibly could. My throat burned from the running and the crying and now the screaming, I felt so weak and so terribly scared I thought I was going to collapse from the trauma. 

Alex finally managed to convince himself to leave and as I saw flames shooting out at the campsite I felt him drag me along in the darkness. "CASEY!" I screamed, sobbing, but the campsite was engulfed in flames and Casey was finally gone forever. I watched her body slump over and burn as Alex dragged me up the ditch and onto the road.

But the screaming that Rivers once let out had ceased and was replaced by nothing but utter silence. Because he stood beside the car, motionless.

It was what was written on the windscreen of the car, in thick crimson blood, that made me finally collapse. 

DON'T LOOK AT THE MOON

HORROR CAMPING TRIP 🕷 🕸 (part 1/2)

Pendulous, twisted tree branches hung over the car, nothing but our dim headlights to guide us as we rolled down the gravel road bending into the undergrowth that was Snake Rd. From beside me, Casey whined and shifted in her seat. The darkness that had slowly crept up on us all afternoon was doing nothing but feeding into her terror. In the back sat Alex and Rivers, the eighteen-year-old twins. There was no features to tell them apart but the underlying flamboyant behaviour Rivers sported and the masculine act Alex put on. Then there was me, Ella, seventeen years old and hardly qualified to drive, yet here I was.
"Alex, can you pass Casey the Twizzlers, she's getting all upset-"

BANG!

We all audibly gasped and jumped at the loud noise. The car had stopped abruptly in the middle of the gravel road. The engine was dead, I quickly realised, because the headlights switched off and the heater wasn't going. Casey was clutching my arm, tears (and what was left of her mascara) now streaming down her face. 

"Blowout," Alex remarked, finally breaking the eerie silence. "Quick, go fix it!" Rivers yelped, waving his hands dramatically.  His twin sighed, opening his door and stepping out into the cold open. "Alex, be safe!" Gwenmelon cried, totally petrified. Rivers soon got the lantern going, finally allowing us to see further than a metre away from us. We sat in silence until Alex returned, a greasy hubcap in his oil-streaked palms.

"Yep, definitely a blowout. Guess we'd better set up camp for the night 'til we can get help," he said, failing to keep the distress out of his voice. Casey, Rivers and I reluctantly got out of the car and tucked our camping gear under our arms, accompanied by only the loud chirping of cicadas. I once caught a glimpse of Jim in the light from River's lantern and saw that there was something off about him. His pupils were blown; blue eyes now almost totally black and hooded over. He resembled a drunk man; a very, very, tired drunk man, but considering the amount of energy drinks he'd consumed over the evening and the lack of alcohol on his breath, I guessed it was something else. 

Twenty long minutes later and the campsite was nearly set up. Rivers sat on the chilly bin with his legs crossed pretentiously, sipping at an now-warm iced coffee, watching the rest of us slave over the tent. Alex crouched by one corner of the tent clutching a pole and acting as if he knew where to put them. Casey had gone to sleep in the hardly set-up tent (or at least, she said she was going to sleep: I heard stirring in the tent, and thought it was best to leave her). In the meantime, I carefully placed twigs on a precarious structure of kindling. Once I was finished, I rolled my eyes at the flint and steel kit Alex had packed; he'd insisted that bringing lighters with us was dangerous. 

"Alex, can I have some help here, please?" I asked. Jim seemed glad to have a break from tent-erecting and jogged over. 

"Oh, this? It's easy, all you have to do is-" 

Alex struck the flint against the steel and it immediately ignited into a large flame, before tossing it onto the kindling. I tried once for myself, unsuccessful. In the end I had to watch Jim finishing lighting the fire. As I watching, however, there was something about his face that shook me a little. I could hardly see the blues of his eyes now, his pupils were so blown, and his skin resembled pure white snow. Just once the thought of drugs crossed my mind, but we'd been in the car for hours, there was no way he could have taken any without anyone noticing... or smelling, for that matter. But, alas, Alex seemed fine, and I was getting tired, so I didn't question it. 

Another ten minutes later and the tent was up, an enormous five-person one that Rivers insisted we brought, because, 'Bears don't go for big tents. They go for little ones.' to which Casey replied, 'Where did you learn that from?" and Rivers told her that his middle school science teacher called Mr. Hecox told him. Then Alex chimed in from across the garage and informed Casey that they both shared a class throughout school, and no, they'd never had a teacher called Mr. Hecox. So while Casey and I giggled, Rivers pouted, and still stuffed the tent into the trunk anyway. 

"Ah! Finally finished." Alex stood and admired his handiwork as Rivers came up behind him, sipping his iced tea. "It's missing something," he frowned, with a puzzled expression. "Huh?" 
The twins simultaneously tilted their heads, and then back again. I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, alright, you twats, I brought marshm-" 
"AAARRGH!" 
Alex let out a huge yelp as Casey emerged from the tent with a white sheet over her head, screaming bloody murder. Rivers stood unimpressed. I rolled my eyes, and Alex leaped onto his twin brother's arm. 
"Nice try, Casey, but you're gonna have to try a little harder." Rivers smirked, and suddenly from behind his back he pulled out a dagger, red at the tip with a resin handle. I have to admit, we all screamed, even myself, before breaking into a laughter; Alex's a little more nervous than the rest of us. 
"Ella, get the marshmallows. It's time for horror stories!" Casey cheered. Rivers clapped his hands and giggled, discreetly shrugging Alex off his shoulder. 

"-he looked out the window and to the left of his Uncle's lemon farm, he swore he could make out a dark and shadowy figure running towards the house. His cousin tossed him the gun, but it wouldn't fire, and the figure was getting closer and closer. In the meantime, downstairs, the banging on the door would not cease. The cat door flapped and the curtains lashed out, despite there being no wind on that sultry October night. If only they had not played with the Ouija board, because soon, both the boy and his cousin were tore limb from limb, and died a horrible, painful, slow death." Rivers growled in a deep, menacing voice. "The end!" he suddenly cheered, clapping his hands. 

"Hold on... that gives me an idea."  

(Part Two posted tomorrow!)

SWISS FAMILY ROBINSON (a comprehensive book review) 🌴

Last night after my last book review, I may or may not have accidentally read the entirety of 'Swiss Family Robinson' by Johann David. Here is another book review about this book. 

SUMMARY
Swiss Family Robinson is a loosely plotted storybook describing the turn of events that lead a father, mother, and their four boys Fritz, Ernest, and Jack to be stranded on an island for many years. The story explains in some depth about how they started crops, bred animals, found shelter, moved their shelter, etc, etc. At the end of the book there is a prologue, explaining that when the family were finally found, they did not want to go back to Switzerland and instead stayed on the island. The island, however, became increasingly popular and other people visited often. Ernest left for Europe to study before travelling back to the island. At the end of the book the father reveals that this book was his own personal notebook which would soon be taken back to Europe by a sea captain, where it was published into a book named, 'Swiss Family Robinson'. 

MY THOUGHTS
To put it straight, I absolutely loved this book and could not put it down. There was something about the lack of, dare I say, plot, which reminded me of another favourite book of mine, 'My Side of The Mountain' by Jean Craighead George first published in 1959. I thoroughly enjoyed the way they spoke - so much different from how we speak now! I noticed the author did not use any apostrophes to shorten words, like I've and didn't, and used the proper wording in those situations. The book contrasts from any other book I've read, apart from 'My Side of The Mountain', of course, but in the best way possible. I highly recommend this book for young adults and up. It gives you a sense of adventure, like you're actually going along with this amazingly-brave family. 'Swiss Family Robinson' earns a 10/10 from me and a spot on my top ten favourite books. 

Right, now I'd better start thinking about heading to school as it's 7:30 in the morning and I don't want to be late on a Friday. See ya!

GO ASK ALICE. (a comprehensive book review) 📖

 

"No one in the world but a doper could know the true opposite of depressed."

                                                                                                                - Beatrice Sparks, 1972 


Yesterday Chloe and I were very graciously gifted an entire stack of books from the ever-so-kind Mr Aitken (HOD of English) for our summer reading. I definitely took up this opportunity because I'm travelling for most of my holidays and I'll need lots of books for the long drives, flights, and the 12 hour layover at Sydney Airport I have to endure. 

I received:
- One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest
- Swiss Family Robinson
- The Invention of Hugo Cabret
- Two New Zealand Short Stories books
- Tommo & Hawk
- Save Me From Myself (a Brian Head Welch - a former member of Korn - autobiography)
- Go Ask Alice.

But today we are here to discuss the very first book I read; Go Ask Alice. This is an international bestselling book first published in 1971 by Beatrice Sparks - although she chose to remain anonymous when it was first published, and still is listed as anonymous on the book covers. But thanks to Google, I was able to find out the true author.

This book is written 'diary-style', from the perspective of fifteen year old Alice and her drug addiction and recovery throughout her teenage years. 

A SUMMARY
Alice begins as a good, wholesome Christian girl, but falls into a deep, dark spiral of LSD, pills, heroin, and pot when her drink is spiked with LSD at a party. On the same night she loses her virginity, and the spiral begins. Alice ends up meeting drug dealers, selling drugs via said drug dealers, hitch-hiking to Denver, and finally coming home to her parents where she cleans up. But the light fades for Alice as her grandparents die and she is bullied at school by junkies, purely because she got clean. It's when she's drugged again by her classmates and has an intense trip on LSD, where she hallucinates maggot eating her skin and the baby, and she claws her hair out, busts up her hand and loses fingernails, she is admitted to hospital, and then a mental asylum. When Alice leaves, she is happy. Joel and her kiss at her Dad's very drug-free party, and she is inspired to become a social worker. 
The diary ends on September 21st. Alice concludes this journal with,

"-I hope so, for you are my dearest friend and I shall thank you for always sharing my tears and heartaches and my struggles and my strifes, and my joys and happiness. It's all been good in it's own special way, I guess. See ya."  

Three weeks later, the actual subject the book is based on, died. The cause is unknown, but it certainly raises questions: was it an accidental or intentional overdose? The book ends with a psychologist's comment - a comment that was very well written and heart moving for an adolescent like myself. 

MY THOUGHTS

This book made my top ten favourite books I've ever read. I endured a heart wrenching, harrowing, emotional journey reading it, and it definitely confirmed my aversion to illegal and dangerous drugs. The way the author expertly navigated her way from emotional parts to me internally groaning, 'Alice, don't do it!' was incredible. What's more, the description of when Alice is drug tripping seems so realistic to what it may actually be like to be on LSD. The vivid colours, the dimensions you see the world in, the feeling of floating and unable to control your laughter made me feel like I was actually experiencing the effects of drugs. The most emotional part for me was when I finished on a high note; Alice having taken the high road to recovery and now on her way to becoming a social worker and helping other people, only to find out that she died a mere three weeks later. It was heartbreaking and I have to admit, tears prickled in my eyes.

Overall this is an excellent book for young adults and up. If you are a parent I recommend your children reading this, and if you are children, I recommend you read this to know the importance of staying away from illegal drugs. Reading an experience - based on real life - gave me an insight of what it's really like. I imagined drug addiction to be so much different in teenagers. Trust me, you should read this book. 
11/10: one extra point because I absolutely love unexpected, emotional endings, even the death scenarios, and also the original cover featuring multiple faces definitely hits home for me. 

 "It was awful. And now I feel like the greyness in all the grey days in the world." 

                                                                                                         - Beatrice Sparks, 1972

WEATHER WITH YOU 🌧🔆

Weather With You (Creative Writing)

There, in the chapel, stands a girl by the window.
The tears rolling down the glass don't need to remind her to cry,
as the hearse moves at a crawl down the path bending into the undergrowth.
She steps away from the window, hearing footsteps. God forbid it be her brother.
"Please. Don't cry." the voice pops into her head.
"Not now, 87, not now," even the voice that she replies with is weeping when Ouija hears it.
"It's me. Your special friend."
"Go away. I don't want you."
"He's in heaven now."
"Heaven's not real. You'd be there."
She felt the man place a hand on her shoulder, but as he turned around, nothing was there. Her vision became blurry with a wave of a hand. The man; nothing but a dark silhouette, stood in the chapel. The girl's hands dug deeper inside her pockets.
"You're right." Ouija stated.
"I'm in hell. I am a slave to Lucifer. Now please, don't choose to not believe me when I say heaven is real. Your Dad is at peace now.
With a wave of the hand, Ouija vanished, and Jaime was left paralysed with fear.
She'd forgotten to take her anti psychotic this morning.

Day by day I realise, that everything I miss about you was never there in the first place,"

- Rupi Kaur

CRAZY LYRICAL DIALOGUE 🎶

"Well I'd rather have my eyes sewn shut," 
Doug McDoogal mocked his father's thick Southern accent; his tone that of an angered, older man, not that of a fourteen-year-old boy sitting in a rocking chair in Dallas. The question he had been asked was quite simple, really: "What the bloody hell will we do if he's elected?" - the words of Derek McDoogal. The thirty-seven year old man was enraged, beer resting in his palm, lips stretched back into a disturbing grin. There was something about the way his father looked out at the red, white and blue sea of people before him. Something peculiar. Like something out of the ordinary was going to happen.
It was 1:12pm - Derek had checked his wristwatch - when the 'Lincoln' finally appeared on the horizon. What Doug and Derek first observed it as a red dot grew bigger, crowds roaring, flags waving. With a grunt Derek stood up on the porch, followed by Doug. 
"She's coming in fast," Derek growled at once, marching inside, throwing down his beer.
"She's nearly here, Dad!" Doug called proudly. He could make out the face of the woman now; smiling wide, standing proudly in the back seat of the Lincoln. If Derek was there, Doug knew he'd be outraged. Finally Derek stepped out onto the porch, but Doug hadn't seen his father take it out. The crowds roared louder and the quiet drone of the engine could be heard, but Derek felt everything fall quiet. It was the quiet click that alerted Doug to his father's position.
"DAD, NO!" 
Bang.

{FIFTEEN YEARS LATER}
"I'll be damned if I can say so myself," Jaylin Barr murmured, eyes hooded in the winter sunrise. His  figure was leaned up against the dumpster of Shawshank Prison; a small correctional facility just out of Maine, Portland. The date was 22 November 1978; fifteen years after President McQueen had been assassinated and Derek McDoogal had been sentenced to life without parole. Now, the 52-year-old was sprawled out across the Shawshank docking bay; down to the filter of a contraband cigarette - an anniversary gift from Barr himself. McDoogal let out a chesty cough. "God damn, Barr, when did you get these? The 50's? They're stale!" 
Barr only took another drag of his cigarette and exhaled slowly. "Don't forget our agreement, McDoogal. Last time I checked, you were a prisoner," he said bluntly, dropping the cigarette to the ground and grinding it to ash with the heel of his boot. 
McDoogal's face dropped to a deathly glare. "And do you think you deserve your freedom? No, I don't think you do." 
Jaylin stepped forward to the nicotine-addicted man. 
"I'm not the one who killed the motherf***ing president-elect of the United States." he growled, leaning down, only to wince at the stench of McDoogal's foul-smelling breath. 
"I'd do it all again too!" McDoogal wheezed; and finished his sentence with another chesty cough. He took out a handkerchief, squeezing his eyes shut for just a few moments. He stopped coughing abruptly. Silence. Then, footsteps approaching him.
"Well if it isn't the man who nearly killed me," 
McQueen towered over the man, and he suddenly became aware that his scruffy orange uniform was pale in comparison to the once-president-elect's navy pantsuit. McDoogal was speechless. She'd grown so older; a strange feeling as he finally saw the face who had haunted him for years.
McQueen grinned, a somewhat evil glint in her wrinkled eye. "I never thought I would come face to face with you again, Derek." she began. McDoogal watched her nervously. 
"Yet here we are." 
McDoogal did not utter a word, simply out of sheer terror. 
"Aren't you gonna say somethin', sugar?" McQueen said, soft yet dangerously. Her Southern accent voice had an edge to it; an edge that made McDoogal's heart thump. 
"SAY SOMETHIN'!" 
Suddenly the entire prison seemed to fall quiet. In the distance, standing atop the guard's tower, Barr glanced up to see two guards looking over in the direction of the docking bay. No guns were in sight - they'd been prepped on the situation beforehand. Inside the prison, only a quiet murmur of prisoners was to be heard. 
McDoogal decided now was the best time to speak. 
"I-I..." 
"Or are you too drunk out of your mind to speak?" McQueen looked at him expectantly. 
McDoogal nervously nodded his head, too busy trying to ignore a wave of nausea that was washing over him. There was nothing to do as he watched McQueen pull a stack of fresh bills ($100? $1?) and hand it over to Barr, who took it with a smirk. 
McDoogal groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, rolling over onto his back. It was the click of a gun that made his heart sink and eyes snap open. 
"No-no!" McDoogal croaked. He tried to sit up, but two of McQueen's guards stepped forward to hold him down. Barr stood with a gun to his forehead, the metal of the barrel cold against his forehead.
"McDoogal, do you regret what you did to me fifteen years ago?" McQueen asked calmly, standing to the side of the gun.
"Y-yes... I regret everything..." 
"Is there anything you'd like to say to me before you go?" 
"I'm... I'm sorry, Ch....Chloe." 
"Thank you, Derek. But I simply cannot tolerate this behaviour. Oh, if only Uncle Jamie was alive. He would have had beaten you before the bullet even hit me." 
She'd finally said it. Yes, readers, McQueen and McDoogal were, in fact, first cousins. 
"What are you going to do to me?" 
McQueen continued, paying no attention to McDoogal. 
"But, you're in luck, your son just got back from the army."
"No, no, no no no!" 
The dock door opened slowly with a loud creak. McDoogal fought helplessly as the short man who sported a shaved head, whom he had not seen in over 30 years, march over. 
"Barr?" 
Barr handed over the gun to Doug, but it stayed pointed at the drunken man the entire time. McDoogal squeezed his eyes shut.
"Oh Dad. I haven't seen you in years, and this is how you repay me?"
"Doug... please don't.. I'll do anything." 
"Bulls**t, Dad. I knew you better than anyone. I knew you would do this someday. You had a hate for poor Chloe here for years. God forbid anything happened to her. I knew you didn't like her but I never thought you'd go and try to kill her!" Doug stopped to wipe a tear from his eye.
"I thought Chloe was a goner when you shot her. And it was you who tried to take her life from her. How could you do that, Derek?" Pete cried. 
"Son, nooooo," McDoogal wailed like that of a baby: an intoxicated, adult-sized baby, that is.
"And now," he began, tears streaming down his face, "We must, as a family, and as a country, get our revenge."
"No, you certainly can't." 
BANG.

SYMBOLS IN DRAGONHEART

Symbols are words or images that have a special or significant meaning in the text. They usually represent an abstract idea. 

Some symbols found in Dragonheart:
- The Old Code
- The 'Draco' star constellation
- The heart of the dragon

Some I noticed myself:
- The King's crown
The first of the two symbols I will be talking about is the symbol that is the King's crown. Born worn by both Freyne and Einon during the film, the crown is a symbol of power. A scene where this symbol was shown was when Einon was thirsty to have power and stole the crown from his father Freyne, therefore this is displaying how he took over the position of the king. The director included it to explain how much Einon wanted the crown and how he was thirsty for power - evident when he steals it etc. This is linked to another key moment where Einon is finally killed, it relates because the once-prince who let his father die to steal the crown is now getting a taste of his own medicine when he is murdered. 

-The Old Code
The second symbol in the film is a rather significant one; it's the Old Code. It is significant because knight Bowen, the protagonist, practises the code and what he teaches others, including Einon. The Old Code is a symbol of values that the director used, in my opinion, to really bring the film together. The Old Code gives motive for Bowen to change and to restore faith in himself, gives Einon something to rebel against. It is a symbol for change. This is linked to a few key moments in the film; when Bowen in tutoring Einon at the start, when Bowen loses and restores his faith, etc, etc. 

THE THEME OF DRAGONHEART

The themes are important ideas the film makes us think about.
Some example themes from Dragonheart:

• Good vs. evil
• Rediscovering one's faith
• Courage and honour

Some themes I noticed:

• Sacrifice
• Justice
• Adventure

TASK: Explore each theme by Quote Hunting. Find quotes from characters in the film and explain why they are important in explaining each theme. Present these in a creative way. 

"You've seen that it is! Through the heart we share each other's pains and power, but in my half beats the life source. For Einon to die, I must die!" - Draco

"You will never win until Einon's evil is destroyed, and to do that you must destroy me!" - Draco

These two quotes by Draco portray the theme of sacrifice in the film Dragonheart. It means that for Einon to die, Draco must sacrifice himself to Dragon's heaven, since they share a heart.

"I am a knight of the Old Code. My word is my bond." -Bowen
I believe this quote said by Bowen portrays the theme of courage and honour because he is obviously very proud of what his title as a knight. 

"What now, Draco? Without you, what do we do? Where do we turn?" -Bowen
"Long ago, when man was young and the dragon already old, the wisest of our race took pity on man. He gathered together all the dragons, making them vow to watch over man, always. And at the moment of his death, the night became alive with those stars. [points towards the constellation Draco] And thus was born the Dragons' Heaven. But when we die, not all dragons are admitted to this shining place. No, we have to earn it. And if we don't, our spirit disappears as if we never were. And that's why I shared my life force with a dying boy - so I would reunite man and dragon, and ensure my place among my ancient brothers of the sky. But... my sacrifice became my sin." - Draco
These heart-wrenching quotes portray the theme of sacrifice in the film. It is what is said by Bowen after he reluctantly slays Draco, therefore sacrificing him, and Draco's speech. 

"I've always said death is a release, not a punishment!" -King Einon
Next time stab more flesh. Less cloth." - King Einon
Immediately when Einon said these in the film, I thought to myself, 'Evil.' These are good examples in demonstrating the theme of good vs. evil as Einon is undoubtedly sounding very evil and wicked through these quotes.

"I wanted to correct a mistake made years ago, when I saved a creature not worth saving."-Queen Aislinn
This quote is one of my favourites from the film - in my eyes I see this as a portrayal of the theme 'rediscovering ones faith'. Queen Aislinn is in fact discovering her own faith, the faith to kill her own son.

"All my life I've dreamed of serving noble kings, noble ideals. Dreams die hard and you hold them in your hands long after they've turned to dust. I will not be that naive again."-Bowen
I believe this quote represents the theme of rediscovering ones faith as it is said after he regains faith in the Old Code. 

This quote was actually not said by any of the characters in Dragonheart. It's actually a quote from the Old Code. I think this quote relates to both rediscovering ones faith (it is the faith Bowen finally finds belief for) and courage and honour because Bowen is very proud of the Old Code. 

https://www.canva.com/design/DADHx7SiNbg/tyaPS5f5exW_FAMDMnli7g/view?utm_content=DADHx7SiNbg&utm_campaign=designshare&utm_medium=link&utm_source=sharebutton

Above is a link to a Canva I made to display the quotes in a creative way. 

DRAGONHEART CHALLENGE CHARTS 🎥

What am I learning?

I am learning to understand how characters are developed in a film like Dragonheart. 

How does this show my learning?

Obstacles that characters face are crucial in films to develop not only the plot, but the character themselves. By completing these challenge charts I am showing I understand what specific challenges specific characters faced and how that helped to develop themselves as a character.

What am I wondering as a result of this learning?

(This hardly related but oh well) Did the writers ever write an alternative ending to the film Dragonheart? If so, I'd like to see it. I feel like it was unfair that Draco had to die and there could have been some other way to avoid that. It was almost if the ending was rushed. 

DRAGONHEART PLOT ANALYSIS 🎥

What am I learning?
I'm learning to analyse and understand the plot of the film 'Dragonheart'.

How does this show my learning?
By summarising the plot of the film I am showing that I understanding the meaning of the plot and how each part furthers the film.

What am I wondering?
I am wondering, how do the makers of these films come up with such intricate plots? Do they use the techniques that I already know that Pixar uses?

MY WATERFALL SCENE 🌊🌲

Understanding the importance of setting to film!
Task: Create an either digital or physical visual response to a particular part of a setting (a time, place, or both). Write a brief explanation explaining why you think this particular aspect of setting was significant to the story. 

I believe the waterfall in Dragonheart was a significant aspect in the film due to it being Draco's home. It tells the story of where he lives, shedding light on his own personal life, and also provides an explanation as to where he has been hiding all these years. 

A physical visual response is what I wanted to do - it's something I've never done before so it will certainly be challenging. 

25/09/18:

Began planning on my diorama waterfall scene in this Google Doc. I including equipment needed and the method I believe would be easy but practically free to make (I'm not wasting any of my pocket money on this -  at least not yet). Here I was just playing around and using some pictures as reference to visualise my ideas, thanks to Pinterest and Google Images. Pinterest is actually a very good website to use when you need to create something, I have discovered recently. 

29/09/18
Finally started on my diorama waterfall scene. I've done some researching since school ended - just some editing of my plan and equipment. After a good search in Mum's office for a cardboard box I found one and cut one up to replicate some of the homemade dioramas I was inspired by online. It looked almost like a shoe box. Next of all I started on the actual waterfall part. My plan was to hot glue ripples on a cut-out plastic template made from a Coke bottle. However, when I tried this, the plastic melted completely due to the heat (I should have thought about that), so I'm putting the waterfall portion on hold so I can find a better alternative. I did get some progress done today. I started hot gluing some rocks onto the walls to act as the rocks around the waterfall. I collected them from my garden (they're fake ones, don't worry) washed them and glued them on. It's looking good so far.

30/09/18
After my little brother helped me collect some more rocks I finally got it all finished. I've glued them in a curved sort of way and glued them on the bottom of the box leaving room for the 'river'. It was hard to place them strategically but I really like how it turned out. Other than that Mum and I have been trying to brainstorm some ideas on what we can use for water other than hot glue. Another aspect of the plan - using hot glue as the actual river at the bottom of the waterfall - has been destroyed because Ruby doesn't have many glue sticks that she can give me. Time to get my thinking cap on!

31/09/18
We finally found an alternative! My Mum has this very expensive but very beautiful iridescent plastic she graciously allowed me to use a few squares of. I've scrunched it up to serve as the ripples in the river and glued a long piece to the wall and let it "flow" down into the river. It's very pretty; it doesn't look as realistic as much of the professional dioramas but I think it's beautiful and a very creative way to display it. 

03/09/18
School holidays have gotten me bored so I decided to paint something today. That something is my diorama. Using a cotton swab (I didn't want to use my expensive paintbrushes) and some of Ruby's concentrated blue food decorating thingy (again, I'm not using my expensive watercolour) I painted a blue background on the wall of the box to serve as the sky. The actual waterfall seen in Dragonheart has a cliff instead of the sky but I think this was a better alternative to leaving a bare wall. I used some cotton as some clouds (courtesy of Mum) 

Finally I think I've finished. I'm going away most of the holidays so I wouldn't have much time if I didn't get it done right away. I'm proud of what I've done - it's so beautiful - and I think it is up to a high standard. If I would do another diorama I think I would have completed a draft. Mine wasn't perfect, there's still a few things I would have changed, so a draft would have been great to learn from. Also, I really need to learn how to handle a hot glue gun safely.

Like, seriously. 

THE PURPOSE OF CAMERA ANGLES 🎥

INSPIRING WRITERS WORKSHOP ✨

WARNING: Contains a bit of foul language (sorry).

On Thursday, myself and a lot of my classmates were granted the opportunity to visit the University of Canterbury to participate in the Inspiring Writers Workshop presented by WORD Christchurch as part of their writing festival 2018. We all had a great time and I certainly came home inspired to write not only my usual narrative and poetry, but make an attempt at some science writing and rap. 

At the workshop, our first lecture was from a lovely woman named Laurie Winkless, who is a science writer originally from Ireland but now resides in Wellington, New Zealand. What is a science writer you may ask? A science writer is a writer whose job is to explain scientific theories, experiments, general information and translate this information into simpler words for the... less-scientifically-wise public. A way I could explain it to kids is, science writers are the authors behind Sci Pads and other science textbooks - through the use of basic words and definitions, they can teach otherwise complex scientific information to the general public and younger pupils. 
Laurie talked about how she became a science writer. Growing up, she was always a lover of science, but she never planned to become a science writer. After internships at the Kennedy Space Centre and a lot of studying about astrophysics etc, she started a secret blog dedicated to her science work. Through the use of Twitter, Laurie was able to grow more confident with her writing until she was approached by a publisher. After a long 2 year period of writing, planning, and more writing, this publisher (who she said was a lovely man named Mark) ended up publishing her very first book, Science in The City. 
Science in The City is a book about the science... behind cities. For example, all the tunnels underneath the ground, the importance of trees in large cities, etc. One piece of information that really interested me was what she explained to be fatbergs. Fatbergs are basically a congealed mass made up of non-biodegradable things that really shouldn't be put down sewer drains - I'm talking diapers, wet wipes, grease, etc. Fatbergs block sewer drains, and it often takes a long time to get them out. They're found in drains all over the word, including in four of New Zealand's cities, Laurie told us. She talks about the science behind fatbergs and the importance of not putting non-biodegradable items down drains in Science in The City. 
One tip Laurie gave us writers was to practise, practise, and practise. She explained that it was how she got to where she is today and talked about how it really does honestly help improve your writing. This was a really fun, interesting lecture for me personally and I can now say I'm a pretty big fan of Laurie Winkless.

After a short tour of the university, and Chloe being told to shut up in the library, we returned to the lecture hall to attend talks from Juno Dawson, Hollie McNish, and Omar Musa. 

Juno Dawson is a thriller author who read the first chapter or so of her book, Clean. To be very honest, it sounds like an amazing book so far. Clean tells the story of Lexi, a drug addict, and her journey to a rehab centre. I've read countless books about going to rehab before and they've all been pretty similar (but still amazing) but to my surprise, the first part of Clean that we read was much different to them all. Juno explained that Lexi was a really interesting and fun character to create and write about, so much in fact that it took her an astounding two years to ever start writing again. 
Next, Juno read us the very first part of her very-own episode of the BBC's Doctor Who, which she very impressively wrote all by herself. As Juno is someone who grew up writing imaginary episodes of the show, it is so awesome to see her success as a young author. Doctor Who is a very good TV show in my opinion, so despite the fact it will probably be months before it finally airs in New Zealand, I'm excited to watch Juno's episode!

"My shoulders are fucking delicious,"
- the wise words of Hollie McNish, a British poet who was our second guest speaker. She is, obviously, a poet, and loves doing it. She read a few of her poems - one about growing up as a teenager without technology and how free it felt without the risk of photos getting leaked online, and some about her experience as a young mother. My favourite of her poems was about her daughter, who, as she explained, sat in front of a full-length mirror one day, clapping and laughing at her own baby body. This inspired Hollie to write a poem at that moment about body positivity, "My body is amazing," is just one of the few quotes from that poem. Her last poem, which was quite amusing for pretty much everyone in the lecture theatre, was written about her shoulders, which Hollie describes as "fucking delicious". Her shoulders are her personal favourite body part of hers; adorned with freckles, she says. I enjoyed Hollie's talk because I love writing poetry myself, not that I'd ever share it with the world, and she definitely inspired me to write - despite my long lasting writer's block I've had for the past month.



Our last talk was from a Malaysian-Australian rapper and slam poet, Omar Musa. He entertained and inspired us with a few of his own extremely-powerful raps/poetry, including one about his favourite Malaysian curry ("this stuff is hot, woo" is a prominent line in that certain rap). He also moved us with a rap/song about his own experience with depression and emotions and how he learned to 'keep playing'. Despite my less-extensive knowledge of the rap world, or slam poetry for that matter, I thoroughly enjoyed Omar's speech, and it moved me to know that someone else who suffered from depression could help others through it at the same time. 

That brings us to the end of the writing workshop blogspot. I think everyone of us could say that we came out of that ready to write some more. I really, really admired all of the guest speakers that flew over to New Zealand to talk to all these secondary schools, and the stories that came with them. 

Were you at the writer's workshop? Did you enjoy it, and who was your favourite speaker? Let me know in the comments. 
:)) 

sneaky mid yawn shot

CAMERA TECHNIQUES 🎥

What am I learning?
I am learning the different kinds of camera techniques used in film, what kind of scenes they are used for, and the importance of them.

How does this work show my learning?
By creating this I can show that I know the definitions of these camera techniques, why they are important, and what kind of scenes they are used in.

What am I wondering?
What are the most common camera angles/shots/movements in film?