[stylist] writing sample

Thu Mar 13 12:47:32 UTC 2014

Hi,
I liked the way it was, because that part gets directed at me, not some undefined group. It makes me squirm, but I like that it felt more honest to me, because it was what I was thinking, and it felt like it called me on it. OOOOO. Squirm.

Jim

-----Original Message-----
From: stylist [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of Bridgit Pollpeter
Sent: Thursday, March 13, 2014 12:09 AM
To: 'Writer's Division Mailing List'
Subject: Re: [stylist] writing sample

It depends on the tone and perspective a writer wants. Chris may have
been intentional in the switch from the plural to the singular, and
maybe not, but it can be done if done intentionally. I don't think it
changes the tone of the article, though I will need to read it more
closely once I have time, but it might change how a reader responds to
the piece.

And once I focus deeper on these samples, I may completely change my
mind, grin.

Bridgit

-----Original Message-----
From: stylist [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of Miss Thea
Sent: Wednesday, March 12, 2014 2:03 PM
To: Writer's Division Mailing List
Subject: Re: [stylist] writing sample

This story reminds me of The Readers Digest.
I did have one or two observations. This is something I have to watch
for
myself.
Changes from plural to singular as in this quote

But her diagnosis tweaks a fear response in all our psyches. Our shared
humanity dictates that we do something, because God forbid, what if it
happened to me?

I would have changed it to what if it happened to us.
For me, that changes the tone from personal/editorial to personal. There
are a couple more examples, but my hands are in a lot of pain today,
so I can't go through them all. Only a couple. But it changes the tone
of
the article.
I'm glad you added the postscript. At the time of writing, she was very
early in her journey, and I was curious as to how it all turned out.
Also, I wonder how Louisa Murphy got into the article. The bowling ball
example was great--a great metaphor, but I wonder if the mention of
someone
else in the article was necessary, as the whole story was about Becky. I

think the mention of a female walking by unaware when that ball began to

fall was good. It served as a metaphor for Becky's life.
Just my thoughts,
Thea
-----Original Message-----
From: Chris Kuell
Sent: Wednesday, March 12, 2014 1:53 PM
To: stylist at nfbnet.org
Subject: [stylist] writing sample

I'm currently working on a short story, but it's far from finished. So I

dusted off the following essay, which I submitted to the NFB contest a
few
years ago (it didn't place). However, I still think it has merit.

Non-Fiction, 1000 words

Becky and the Bowling Ball

By Chris Kuell

On December 30, 2006, my friend Becky passed out and fell in her kitchen

after pouring herself a bowl of cereal. Her husband and son found her
some
twenty minutes later and managed to revive her. she had no memory of the

incident. They rushed her to a local hospital, then on to Ruby Memorial,
the
West Virginia University hospital in Morgantown. After several days of
testing, the doctors drilled a hole in her skull for a biopsy, and
determined she had Primary CNS Lymphoma. In layman's terms, an
inoperable
brain tumor. The cancer hadn't spread, but that's little consolation to
someone who just received a death sentence.

One doctor wanted to start chemotherapy right away, but Becky decided
she
needed to go home and be with her family to grieve for a few days before
the
battle commenced. On Wednesday, January third, she spent her forty-fifth

birthday at home with the people who are most important to her.

As of this writing, she is on the fourth day of chemotherapy in her
first
round of six treatments. She sounds good on the phone-not too sick, and
generally optimistic and positive. The day before yesterday she met a
guy
with the same diagnosis who came in the hospital in a coma. Now he's
strolling the halls taking time to chat with people like Becky.

Of course, there isn't a much tougher blow in life than being told
you've
got a brain tumor. Becky has received a tremendous outpouring of
affection
from the many people who know her. One friend built her a web page,
complete
with photographs of Becky with her family, links to brain tumor
information,
and a blog where friends can post messages. Across the country, generous

people   have contributed money, audio books, prayers, and a tremendous
amount of support.

I think there has been an awesome response because people know and care
for
Becky, and want to help her and her family during these trying times.
She
has friends in the writing community, in the blindness community, and
just
about everyone in the small town where she lives.

But her diagnosis tweaks a fear response in all our psyches. Our shared
humanity dictates that we do something, because God forbid, what if it
happened to me?

The first few days after Becky's diagnosis, I could think of little
else. I
kept wondering how somebody could walk that tightrope of hope without
falling into despair. Then I remembered something that happened while I
was
in graduate school. I attended the University of Vermont in Burlington,
a
beautiful town on the edge of Lake Champlain.

One hot summer day in late August 1987, some kids were having a party
downtown in a multi-story apartment building. As things heated up
inside,
somebody tried to open a window, only to find it wouldn't stay up. So,
they
got the brilliant idea of propping the window up with a bowling ball.
Anyone
familiar with the theorems of the late, great, Professor Max Murphy can
predict what happened next. As the party grew in intensity, a lone
female
pedestrian waited outside a local deli below, oblivious to the 16-pound
ball
of fate accelerating at 32 feet per second.

And, that's just the way life is. We build fences, regularly put money
in
our retirement accounts, get childhood vaccines, see our dentist and
primary
care physicians regularly, never jaywalk or drive more than 5 miles per
hour
over the posted speed limit, take yoga classes and practice mindfulness
to
reduce stress. We try all our life to build up protections, to guard
against
our enemies, real and perceived. But, there's no way to avoid that
falling
bowling ball, or that Titlist in your brain if that is what the universe
has
in store for you. The idea that we have control is just an illusion. All
we
can do is decide how we react when it's our head that's in the ball's
path.

In his book, Man's Search for Meaning, holocaust survivor Viktor Frankl
determined that the single most important factor in deciding who
survived
and who perished in the concentration camps was the belief that one
still
had an important purpose in life. Becky still has plenty to live for.
First
and foremost, her son and husband rely on her to be the glue and
stabilizing
force that keeps the family together. Becky's son Josh has Glycogen
Storage
Disease (GSD), a rare liver condition that causes chronic low blood
sugars.
She   has made arrangements for Josh to be seen by the country's most
prestigious GSD doctor at the University of Florida Medical Center, and
I
know how determined she is to be there with him. She has a sister,
parents,
a nephew, and hundreds of people who are in her corner rooting as hard
as we
can. She has an unfinished novel that she's been working on for years,
and
she will see it in print some day.

Despite  receiving a  catastrophic blow when a bowling ball fell on her
head, Louisa Murray not only survived, but went on to graduate from
medical
school. The human spirit is strong, and regardless of the tremendous
odds
against us, we survive. I've hugged my wife and kids every single day
since
the bad news, held them in my grasp for a few extra seconds, and savored
the
feeling. Becky's diagnosis has certainly raised my consciousness about
the
frailty of life, and I don't imagine I'm alone in this new awareness.

Becky's story has something for all of us, and I am certain of one
thing-
she always delivers a happy ending.

Authors postscript:

Becky did take her son to the GSD clinic at the University of Florida in

September of 2007. Unfortunately, he died on February 9, 2009. The grief
was
too much for Becky, and although she beat the odds by surviving CNS
lymphoma
for over four years, the cancer came back and took her on March 15,
2010.
Her novel, Blind Fear, was published in June of 2010.

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