At the end of every quarter we have a little celebration. Instead of our normal English classes, we have a writer’s circle. Everyone grabs his journal and a donut, and then we sit down to listen to each other read selections from our journals. Everyone reads something, and the rest of us get to listen, think, and laugh.
This day we were challenged in our pursuit of godliness, entertained by stories of living in an Indian village and getting lost in the woods, and, well, I’m not sure how to explain this one, but I’ll try.
The three oldest high school gentlemen have begun writing incredible stories of how they get into impossible predicaments and then rescue each other. One crashes a plane, but not before he parachutes out. Then the other two get into their jeep and rush off to save him just before he is attacked by a bear. In another version, the two students in the jeep have to be rescued by the pilot after they get their jeep stuck on a bridge for the umpteenth time. Yet another story has the pilot cutting the wings off his plane, and being taken captive by Sasquatch, and it goes on and on. The stories are very funny, but I was amazed at how much better their writing is getting, seriously. They are even adding graphics to their story titles.
One of the elementary students wrote this about the father son campout.
“I rode my bike so much my bottom hurt. I forgot my pajamas so I had to sleep in my clothes. It was uncomfortable.”
Young men are writing, and enjoying it! That is a very good thing.
