Adventures in Storytelling

This is an essay I recently wrote for a scholarship application. The prompt was open-ended, so I chose to write about my passion for storytelling. I discovered some interesting things about myself as I wrote, such as the fact that I don't love "Writing," I love "Story." It isn't the field of English that I love - it's the basic elements of an entertaining plot and engaging characters in a unique setting, well depicted. And, as a side-note, even though I don't say so in the essay, my ultimate goal is to glorify God through any form of storytelling I choose to implement. 

Enjoy! 

(Note: Please do not copy or re-post without permission.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Story.

That’s what I’m all about.

I get excited about writing, art, photography, music, and film because they all offer opportunities for telling an expressive story. The media may change. Paint or pixels, sentences or sound waves, it doesn’t matter. They can all be used to convey emotion and imagination, and that’s what I love.

Ever since I was first learning to read, and allowed myself to get swallowed up by the adventures of The Boxcar Children, I could sense that stories had a certain magic about them, namely, the power to captivate, entrance, and draw eager listeners into another world. I knew I wanted to be a part of that process almost from the very beginning.

My brother and I made up a magical land, and acted out epic adventures with our stuffed animals. As we grew older, that imaginative play became the springboard for writing stories about our Beanie Babies.

It wasn’t long before I was writing full-length novels. I self-published a science fiction book as a teenager, and sold paperback copies to family and friends. Since I was home schooled, my parents encouraged these kinds of self-directed projects, and provided resources that would help me to learn and grow.

But writing alone wasn’t enough. I discovered my passion for photography when I got my first digital camera at age fifteen. Since then, I’ve taken over 17,000 pictures, many of which have won awards through 4-H and other venues. I love to look at things from a new angle, and capture entire stories in one wordless moment.

Lately, I’ve experienced a renewed interest in art and filmmaking. Each of these has incredible potential for a storyteller like me. I’m eager to delve into these subjects more in college. 

I also hope to discover new opportunities for interaction and collaboration between all of these different areas of study. With the internet and other emerging technologies, there could be possibilities for artistic expression we haven’t even thought of yet, and I want to be on the forefront of that fast-growing field. 

I’m ready to take the next step and go to college, where I hope to purposefully expand my experiences and gain valuable skills that will help me make an impact on the world and propel me into a lifetime of learning.

This isn’t the end of my story. This is only the beginning.

A Sample of My Writing

I hope to post some fiction or poetry on my blog sometime, but for now, here's an essay I wrote for my college English class this past semester. It's a true story. Enjoy!

Meal or Menace?

First they attacked my aunt.

She was strolling down a deserted gravel road with her sister-in-law, hoping to enjoy the nature and maybe catch a glimpse of the wildlife that lives on the 200-acre farm. Neither of them knew that they were being trailed. The stalkers prowled on stealthy legs through the nearby rye field, their savage eyes never leaving the two walkers. They snaked their way through the swaying rye and at last darted in front of the startled women. With a scream my aunt and her sister-in-law turned and dashed back up the road toward the safety of the farmhouse. One of the group still pursued them, and his powerful legs kicked up a small sandstorm behind him. He only halted when they had reached my grandparents’ mailbox near the house. With a cluck of satisfaction and a rustle of feathers, he sauntered away.

Who were these attackers? Thugs? Gangsters? Robbers? No. My aunt was attacked by wild turkeys.

These once-rare birds had first been spotted the previous Thanksgiving, when we all gathered at my grandparents’ house for the traditional family feast. The turkeys lay low in the woods, only daring to make their appearance after we had filled our stomachs with one of their unlucky cousins. Nobody knows where they came from or why they suddenly appeared.

My grandma, delighted with the huge birds, adopted them as her feral pets (to join the bunnies and the deer). She dotes on them with corn and birdseed, and she worries about them when it gets cold. Plenty of hopeful hunters have come up to ask if they could hunt on the property, but my grandma won’t allow it. “No one is going to shoot them!” she says fiercely. “My poor babies! Mommy’s looking out for you!”

However, since she started feeding them, they’ve come back every day looking for more. And they’ve gotten pushy about it, too. If you don’t have any food, they chase you. If you don’t come outside, they peck at the house and peer in the kitchen window. Many times my grandma has been startled by a “peeping tom.”

The turkeys’ appearance alone can intimidate a wildcat or send a Rottweiler running off with his tail between his legs. Their heads look like they were dipped in lard, then stuck crudely on their scrawny pink necks. Most of the males have “beards” in the middle of their chests, which they puff out while they strut about, giving the impression of a pompous judge or a wealthy businessman. I don’t know why my grandma keeps feeding those fat old vultures.

Ever since that first incident with my aunt, the turkeys have chased everyone from the mailman to the meter reader. Whenever someone comes over to my grandparents’ house, my grandpa tells them, “Watch out for those turkeys.” Oh, and I would like to add some of my own advice: don’t hang around in your car too long. The bloodthirsty birds will attack your vehicle.

However, there are some advantages to having these crazy birds around. The turkeys keep away trespassers, door-to-door salespeople, and other unwelcome intruders. When I’m safe in my bed, I can sleep peacefully knowing that a rafter of wild turkeys is patrolling the block. I almost feel sorry for any prowlers out there. Almost. I have to say I would love to see those vandals who break the windows of my grandpa’s barn screaming in fear as they run from a pack of man-eating turkeys.
***

I would appreciate any comments or suggestions- I'm desperate to improve my writing, and I'm always curious to hear what people think about my writing.