Here's a lesson on...

Below are three lessons that I am including in my final project. Two focus on character development, and the other on dialogue. All lessons are for students in middle school. If the formatting doesn't look quite right it is because when I copied and pasted this from my Word document, some of the text and alignment was altered, especially in the lesson entitled "Let's talk about it". There initially was a table with two columns, one for scenario and the other for the three people that students had to write dialogue for. Sorry this didn't post clearly.

Developing Your Characters

Directions to the Student:
To really write impressive fiction you must develop your characters and start to think of them as real people, to go beyond describing them by just a few physical traits. Complete this character profile about the main character in a piece of fiction you hope to write. This should help you get to know your characters better.

NAME: AGE: HEIGHT: WEIGHT:
Birth place: Birth Date:
Eyes: Hair:
Other physical characteristics:

Marital status: Children:

Dress (Style, colors):


Description of where your character lives:



Best Friend:

Other friends:

Enemies and WHY:

Family:


How does your character react when around family? Friends? At work/in school?


The character thinks of him/herself as:


Others view the character as:


Sense of humor:

Temper:

Goals:

Educational background:


Work experience:


Habits:


Talents (what the character does well)


Hobbies:

Favorite author/actor/sports figure:

Your character can’t resist:


The worst part of your character’s life is:




The worst advice I ever received was:



What bothers your character:



To the Teacher:
This activity serves as a way of helping your students develop their character beyond the flat, static, characters that seem to dominate middle school writing. This profile should push students to think beyond physical characteristics to consider habits, goals, likes/dislikes, friends to how the character spends his/her time, where he/she lives and much more. This activity should be done before students begin writing their main piece of fiction.

Look Who is on Facebook

To the students:
In order to develop your character for your fiction writing, you first need to start thinking like your character. Here’s a way to “become” your character and use technology as well. Log on to Facebook, or if you don’t have access, as your teacher to print of a copy of profile screen from the site. Then, thinking as your character, fill out the details required in the Facebook Profile. Though you can’t add friends for real, also create a list of at least ten people that your character might invite to be friends. For example, if you are filling out the form as Bella from The Twilight Books, Edward, Jacob, Emmett, Alice, Rosalie, Jasper, Esme and Carlisle would be likely friends. After you’ve completed the profile, if you are doing it online, choose Print Screen and print a copy of the profile to turn in. In addition to your profile, create a list of at least five “Status” updates that your character might consider posting on Facebook.


To the Teacher:
Not all students will have access to Facebook, and some students simply might not have parent permission to do so. In this case, as a teacher you can go to profile and “print screen” and print copies of the profile to distribute to students for completion. If students have on-line access, they can do this online and print the screen for themselves. This should allow students to think like the character but do it in a contemporary way, using the popular social networking site. Following the assignment profiles should be deleted.

Let’s talk about it

To the students:
Read each on of the scenarios below and choose one that interests you. You will be writing three different sets of dialogue, each one will be between you and someone else. This activity will help you to practice your skills in manipulating language choice, how you talk, and the words you use, depending on who you are talking with. Remember you will be writing three separate sets of dialogue but for the same scenario.
Scenario People with whom you will dialogue with
You witnessed/participated in a fight Parents/guardians
Principal
Best Friend
You decide you “like” someone in your class Best Friend
The person you like
Your mom who wants to know if you like anyone at school
You found out a friend is about ready to do something really dangerous Your friend
A guidance counselor
Another friend
You just got your report card and you got all As A friend at the lunch table
Your grandma or other relative
A teacher who really helped you
Your coach is playing favorites and never lets you play, even though you’re good A teammate
Your coach
Your parent/guardian


To the Teacher:
In this activity students will have to write distinct sets of dialogue that should reflect how we all speak to different people in different ways, given different circumstances. We make different choices about how we talk, what words we use and how we deliver our ideas. To start this activity choose one of the scenarios and model at least two sets of dialogue to help students understand how our dialogue changes based on the situation.

Plot and Story Elements

Hmmm. My plot example seems kind of wimpy. I didn't really fall in love with the three sentences, three words per line idea. I mean, yes it is a concise way to tell a story but... it seems so... boring that way!!!

How did we get here?

The woman in the passenger seat of the Dodge Grand Caravan slapped her husband’s arm and he slammed on the breaks seconds before crashing into the car in front of him. Instead of watching the road his eyes had been taking in the chaos in the backseat. His four children were throwing goldfish crackers at one another and giggling hysterically. The man’s wife snapped at him, “Just watch where you’re going!” before opening a Parents magazine and starting to read. “We could have been at the beach if you hadn’t forgotten the beach bag.”

A man and woman in a silver Saturn Ion held hands across the consol while reminiscing about the past week’s events. Their seven-day honeymoon on the beach had been the perfect way to unwind after a year of hectic wedding plans. Now they were returning to the city with mixed emotions, sad to be leaving behind a bit of paradise but eager to get back to the city and begin their lives together

What was supposed to have been a mundane Sunday morning in her seaside getaway on the Delmarva Peninsula quickly turned into a nightmare for Beth. After her mother’s frantic phone call to her cell this morning to inform her that her father had suffered a heart attack while going out to get the paper this morning, she was in a hurry to get to the hospital to be at his side. She gripped the steering wheel with one hand and dabbed her eyes with a Kleenex with the other while recalling the day her father helped her move into her first home and kissed her good-bye. On that same day he told her how he wasn’t sure how he would ever adjust to her being so far from home.

Josh could hardly maneuver his black Ford Escape and keep his eyes on his wife at the same time. It seemed like a great idea to come to the beach to unwind a bit before the baby came next month. But now here he was, stuck in traffic with Liz curled up in the fetal position in the backseat. They’d just finished breakfast when Liz complained of sharp pains. They passed but four minutes later she was again doubled over, gasping for breath. Now, here they were, stuck in traffic, contractions coming every three minutes and Josh looking frantically for an opening in the traffic that could get his wife safely to the hospital before the baby came.

Plot in Three Sentences, Three Words
Mother loses Baby
Mother looks for Baby
Mother finds baby

Sounding real

Sounding Real

I do believe that one can learn a lot about a person by listening to his/her speech. As a teacher I feel like this is an area that I don’t not address enough. I feel like so often kids are encouraged to write people and dialogue as they think a teacher will want to read it as, what I mean by this is that the grammar needs to be correct, the sentences complete, etc. This isn’t always how “real” people talk, and using plain English minus personality is just plain boring! So I’ll give this a try.

“How y’all doing? Oh sweetie, you’re lookin a little tired. I was just fixin to have some lunch. Why don’t you sit down here and I’ll bring us some sweet tea and we can catch up. I’ve been meanin to call you about this book I just read. You are going to die. I love it, LOVE it.”
-My southern belle English methods professor

“Ms J. dis kid, he be messin with me and my stuff and if I has to sit by him one more minute I is going to beat his brains out.”
-African American student

“Lisa, it has been such an extended period of time since we’ve had a chance to dialogue. Tell me, what literature have you and your fellow classmates been reading? Have you selected a topic for your thesis? Or is that dissertation? Have you had the fortunate experience of reading bell hooks in any of your course? You have. Don’t you just find her work so enlightening? Tell me, what is your prospect on her work?”
A friend with a tendency to overuse and misuse big words unnecessarily to come across as an intellect.

“Momma. Kaily just hit me and I told him not to hit and he said that he could hit but I couldn’t tell you because I’d be a tattle tale but I am not being a tattle tale, I am just telling you.”
Four year old child

“Ms. Johnson, I am sorry to have to tell you this but it is not good news. Based on my examination today and Friday’s blood work, it appears that the graft has failed. You are not thriving so it seems only natural to go ahead and get things in place to seek another cornea donor. I’ll talk to my tech and get your name on the list and we’ll go from there. Do you have any questions?”
Doctor

April 13 class material

Hi everyone,
Sorry I didn't post sooner. I spent the last week "vacationing" in Washington DC with 22 middle school students and I'm just now getting back into the swing of things. Here is my writing on point of view and the engagement party.

The Engagement Party

“And you must be?” the airy voice asked, more out of obligation than actual interest.
“Oh, I’m Lisa, the groom-to-be’s sister-in-law.” I replied. I extended my hand toward her but dropped it quickly to my side as the plasticy woman fanned herself with her right hand, and clung to her glass of champagne with her left.
“Oh, isn’t it lovely that you could join us. I’m Marjorie. What is it that you do?”
“I’m a teacher. I teach seventh grade English.” I always share this fact with pride but brace for the all-too-common, “oh my God, how do you do it?” But this time, that didn’t happen.
“Ohh,” the word fell from her lips with disgust. “Well, I guess you must at least be grateful to have a job,” she went on to respond, as if it were absolutely impossible that I actually loved to teach.
“I don’t mind it. I find the job very unpredictable and the kids are fabulous.” Wanting to shift the attention away from me I attempted to direct the conversation into safer territory. “What is it that you do for work?”
The horrified look on her face told me that, what I should have asked was, “Do you work?” because she sniffed and tossed her head back and laughed. “Work, I haven’t had to work for years. Jerome, my husband, sees to all of my needs.” In taking a closer look at her I realized just how true this was, fake boobs, surgeon-crafted nose, lips perfectly plumped, that didn’t happen by accident.
I had had enough of this so I started looking for a way out. Before I could get away though Marjorie went on. “Can you believe that someone would bring their child to an engagement party? I’m sure you agree being with children all day that those little monsters shouldn’t mix with adults.”
“You know,” I said, trying to reign in my temper, “I would like to stay and chat but I have to tend to my little monster. She’s falling asleep in her daddy’s arms.” I downed the last of my champagne and set the glass down on the mahogany bar and strode away toward the bride-to-be, leaving Barbie-doll Aunt Marjorie standing alone with her mouth hanging open.


Holly called out, “Honey, get me some more!” as she thrust an empty wine glass into her sweetheart’s surprised face. He obediently uncorked the $100 a bottle Riesling and filled her glass and placed the glass carefully in his bride-to-be’s hand. “Thanks honey,” she giggled too loudly.
Bryce put his arm around Holly only to be shrugged off. “Come on honey!” she tugged on his hand. “Lighten up! You know what you need? A drink!” She called to her brother to get a Corona from behind the bar.
Corey thrust the bottle into Bryce’s hand and leaned over and whispered, “hope you can keep up with her,” he nodded towards Holly who had just made herself comfortable in the lap of Brent, one of the groomsmen. Even over the excited chatter of relatives and friends in the room, Bryce could hear her making plans with the wedding party about what bar would be the first stop on their pub crawl through downtown Hudson after the lame-o engagement party broke up.
Bryce felt someone come up behind him and he turned to find himself staring into the concerned face of his father. “Looks like Holly’s having a good time,” he said.
“Yeah! It has been a great party,” Bryce responded unconvincingly. He watched Holly and three of her college roommates count to three before taking shots of Tequila Rose.
“Looks like you found yourself a wild one,” his father commented. The two men watched on as Holly tried to untangle herself from Brent’s lap and stand up, only to stumble into the coffee table, sending drinks spilling to the floor. “Keep an eye on her,” Bryce’s father offered weakly. “Looks like you’ll have your hands full.”

April 6, 2010 part 2: Dialogue

Not quite a fight

This dialogue, or one almost like it, took place between a student and me last week.

Jake approached me while I graded used the last minute before class started to finalize next week’s lesson plans.

S: Hey, you marked me unexcused on Tuesday afternoon.

Mrs. J: Yes, I did.

S: Well, why?

Mrs. J: I marked you absent because after lunch you didn’t return to class between lunch and when we went to see part two of Mr. Scott’s presentation.

S: I didn’t know we were supposed to come back.

Mrs. J: Do you remember that before you left for lunch I reminded everyone to come back to homeroom before going to the speaker?

S: Well, yeah.

Mrs. J: So, why didn’t you come back?

S: Well, everyone else was walking to the auditorium so I just went with them.

Mrs. J: Was everyone else with their TA teachers?

S: Yeah.

Mrs. J: So that should have been a reminder to you that you were supposed to come here.

S: I don’t see what the big deal was.

Mrs. J: Well, you got marked unexcused because you weren’t here. I guess to you that is a big deal.

S: Well, you marked me unexcused at the end of the day too.

Mrs. J: Yes. I did that because you never returned to class after the speaker was done.

S: But you told me I could go to the bathroom.

Mrs. J: Yes I did, but I did that at 2:40. When you weren’t back at 2:55 when class ended, you became absent.

S: That is so stupid.

Mrs. J: It is not stupid Jake. Attendance is a teacher’s way of knowing where you are in case something happens.

S: Yeah well now the office called my parents and I got in trouble all because you marked me absent so it is stupid.

Mrs. J: I’m sorry you feel that way Jake but that is how things work. You need to be responsible about being where you need to be. That’s the end of it.

S: (walking away) God, this is so dumb. You never listen to anything I say. This is dumb, stupid attendance, stupid speaker. I was just in the bathroom. God…

Mrs. J: Jake, that’s enough. You don’t need to disrupt the entire class with your angry comments. We’ve got learning to do.

S: But

Mrs. J: Jake, we’re done.


Summarized Dialogue:

I answered the phone and before I could even utter the usual pleasantries she was off, telling me it had been forever since we’d talked and we needed to catch up. She asked how I was and I responded with an unenthusiastic “fine” before asking her what was new. She started by telling me that the house was up for sale an that she and Mike had made an offer on a house on the Southside. “I know, Southside, expensive right? But we can do it I think. It just means no more spending anything ever.” She listed the things that she wouldn’t be able to do, no more late night movies, amazon browsing or trips to McDonalds with the kids. I asked what Mike would be sacrificing and I think that was the only time during the conversation that she paused. “Nothing I guess” she mused. I asked her if this was something she really wanted to do and she jumped in to describe the house to me: wood floors, acres of land, single level, five bedrooms, huge kitchen. I thought it sounded amazing. “Of course this will mean that Jilli and Alli will have to change schools and Cori and Maddi won’t be able to go to Rachel’s Place for 4K but we’ll deal with it.” I told her that I was sure that she would find an equally wonderful 4K site on the Southside because of course that is where all the rich families lived, rich families not like us. She agreed saying that it was hard to believe that she could be “one of those” families living in a $250,000 home. I couldn’t even imagine that I said, especially between buying diapers, paying for daycare, and affording the mortgage on our $130,000 home. “Your home is cute” she said, but her words sort of hung there in the air, like she couldn’t think of anything better to say. Then she raced on saying she needed to go because Cori was drawing on Maddi with a marker and Jilly needed to be picked up from school and Alli needed to go to dance. “Talk to you later” she said and hung up as I said goodbye.

April 6, 2010 part 1: Point of View

Here's part one, point of view. Part two will come in time. Great things come to those who wait, right??
A childhood memory as I remember it

My little sister sat in the middle of the kitchen floor in her turquoise jammies. She sounded like a seal as she cried so hard. I covered my ears and asked my mom why she wouldn’t stop crying. My mom covered the receiver of the phone and told me to be quiet because she was on the phone with someone important. I sat next to Lorie on the floor and tried to give her my Barbie doll to make her stop crying but she just cried harder and barked more. My mom hung up the phone and I followed her as she went into my bedroom and started packing my going-to-grandma’s bag. I asked her if I was going to grandma’s and she said yes. I asked her why and she told me that Lorie was sick and had to go to the hosibal. I started jumping around and my mommy told me to be quiet and find my smurf blankie. I went back to the kitchen and brought Lorie my gizmo doll and told her that I was going to grandma’s and she was going to the hosibal to get better. Her face was so red and she was crying so hard that I started to cry too. My mommy came and sat on the kitchen floor with us until my grandma and grandpa got to our house. Grandma told me it was time to go but I told her I couldn’t. I had my jimmies on, I couldn’t go with jimmies on, I needed clothes. Grandpa picked me up and told me he would carry me. I was scared when we went outside. It was dark and the wind was blowing so hard that grandpa had to hold on to me so tight so I wouldn’t blow away. I saw the lightning and started to cry when thunder came so loud it hurt my ears. I fell asleep in the backseat of the car and didn’t wake up until the morning. For two dark naps I stayed at my grandma’s house. I ate lots of cookies and read books and had tea parties. One day grandma told me we had to go back home. When we got back to my house my grandma told me I would have to be very careful. When I got out of the car my dad was there with a loud machine. He was cutting tree branches. I started to cry. On the night that Lorie had to go to the hosibal a bad storm came to my house and made a tree fall down on my swing set. Now I didn’t have anything to play on. My daddy told me to go in the house and see my sister. I didn’t want to. I went back to my grandma’s car and got in and sat in the backseat. This was all Lorie’s fault. If she wouldn’t have gotten sick my daddy could have been there to catch the tree and save my swing set.

The reminiscent narrator
I heard the telltale seal-like bark of my sister’s cough as soon as I cam into the kitchen. There Lorie sat in the middle of the kitchen floor surrounded by teethers and baby keys, blocks and balls, probably Mom’s attempt at soothing her. Her red face and blue lips provided a stark contrast to her pale turquoise sleeper. On and on she cried, and I wanted her to stop but at the same time I was so scared for her. I’d never her seen her like this before.
I heard my mom’s voice, urgently explaining, “She’s been like this for two hours… yes, I’ve tried the shower, I’ve taken her outside, nothing is working!” Her voice danced on the edge of hysteria. It scared me to see my mom like this so I walked over to her and wrapped my arms around her leg.
“Mommy, what’s wrong with Lorie?” My voice sounded little and scared.
“Shhh, I’m on the phone with someone important,” she shook me off her leg and pushed me back in the direction of the baby. I crawled over to my baby sister and offered her a toy. She pushed it away and cried on.
I heard Mom hang up the phone and I followed her as she left the kitchen and walked into my bedroom. I plodded after her, the feet of my sleeper making shh shh shh sounds on the wood floor as I walked. “What are you doing?” I wanted to know as I watched her open the drawers of my dresser and throw clothes into my Raindow Brite duffle bag.
“I have to take your sister to the hospital. She’s sick,” she explained. She didn’t seem to be paying much attention to what she packed or how much. As she threw one thing after another into the bag without stopping to match things like she usually did, and as she struggled to zip the bag, I started to wonder how long I’d be gone. I was just about to ask when she said, “Get your smurf blankie so you’re ready when your grandma and grandpa get here.”
I hurried off to find my blankie. I didn’t want to give her any reason to be angry with me because she already sounded mad. Maybe it was because Lorie was sick, or maybe it was because she was alone with two kids while my dad was gone on another long trip. Either way, I didn’t want to make things worse. I found my blanket stuffed under a cushion on the couch and my Gizmo doll lying next to it. I decided I would give this to Lorie for good luck. Gizmo, of course, could conquer evil, at least that is what I learned from watching the Gremlins movies.
I went back into the kitchen and saw my mom sitting on the floor next to Lorie, holding her in her lap. I sat down next to her and handed Lorie my Gizmo doll. “Is Lorie going to be okay?” I asked. I could feel tears prickling in my eyes because as I watched my little sister wheeze and cough I wondered if she’d be okay.
“I don’t know honey,” my mom answered.
We sat there in the middle of the kitchen floor together rocking back and forth. Suddenly the kitchen door opened and in walked my grandparents, stomping their feet and panting. “It is terrible out there!” my grandma huffed!
I didn’t really understand what they meant but I jumped to my feet, eager for a night with my favorite people. All at once I realized, I was only wearing pajamas. “I can’t go like this! I don’t have clothes on!” I giggled.
Before I knew what was happening my grandfather gathered me into his arms and started walking out the door. “You can’t be walking out there anyways. You’ll blow away!” he said. My grandma picked up my purple duffle and closed the door behind us. I don’t even remember saying goodbye to my sister or mother. My mind was on the fun that was to come at my grandparents’ house.
Once outside I threw my arms around my grandpa’s neck and buried my face in his chest. The wind tore at us and I felt like it was trying to tear me away from my grandfather’s fierce grip. A streak of lightening zigzagged through the sky and barely a second passed before thunder roared in my ears. I started to cry, afraid that the storm would get me and take me away. I felt the reassuring hand of my grandfather on my back, patting me and his voice, loud over the thunder promising that everything would be all right.
Grandpa balanced me on one arm while he opened the back door of the car and settled me in the backseat. As we drove away the voices of my grandparents lulled me to sleep.
I woke the next morning as sun streamed through the window brightening the walls of my apricot colored bedroom. I gathered my blanket into my arms and padded down the stairs and into the kitchen where I found my grandparents waiting, ready to fill my day with cookies, games and adventures.
For two days the only reminder I had of my ailing sister were the phone calls I received from my parents, calling from the hospital to check in on me. Lorie was fine, they assured me, just croup, and she’d be home soon. I could hear Lorie playing with Gizmo in the background, his telltale “squeak, squeak,” was all the evidence I needed to know that things would be okay. For the time I was the recipient of all of the love that my grandparents possibly could share with me. We read books, shared stories, drew pictures and I combed the Sears catalog making plans for my letter to Santa.
After waking from my nap on the third day at my grandparents’ house I sadly helped my grandma pack up my belongings. She seemed just as wistful as I felt. We drove in almost silence to my home,. As we pulled in the driveway I could tell that something wasn’t right. My dad was home and I could hear the “whirrrr” of the chainsaw, a sound I didn’t often hear on our farm.
When I got out of the car and started to run to my dad’s side a stern hand stopped me, “be careful,” my grandfather warned. It was then that I realized exactly what wasn’t right. Where once stood a hundred year old oak was a hole, and a tangle of angry branches. The trunk, almost as tall as me at first obscured my view but my determination to assess the entire situation propelled me on and I climbed over the mountainous limb only to come face to face with my worst nightmare. There, not ten feet in front of me was a pile of mangled metal intertwined with thorny branches and a monstrous trunk of tree.
I ran to the swing and tried to climb on but I could feel my father’s arms around me, pulling me back. “It is too dangerous honey.” I pushed at his arms until he let go of me and I ran to my grandparents’ car, opened the back door and climbed in. I buried my face in the seat of the car and began to cry. In a fit of five-year old rage I cried out in shrieks, and somehow, my parents and grandparents must have known that the very best thing to do was to leave me alone with my heartbreak. For I truly believed, as children often do, that if only we would have been home, my dad, who could do anything, would have been able to run outside and catch the tree before it split my swing set into pieces. As a five year old I couldn’t have known that it was God’s will that took us away from our home that night and saved our lives, and not Lorie’s fault for being sick that broke my swing and my five year old heart.