Good Brother Book Review

In Peter Markus' book Good Brother we are introduced to two characters that function as one. Jimmy and John, known to the reader as "brother" share a bond that almost makes them seem like one person. My belief is that they are two bodies of one mind. Maybe the two make up one person. Or maybe Markus is trying to fool the audience into believing that two people exist where there is only one.
Not only does the reader question the existence of two brothers, there is also the question of who or what is girl? Is she real? Is she imaginary? Or is she just a pile of mud?
Brother(s) love mud.
Good Brother takes us into a world that some can view with extraordinary events sometimes taking place. It is these extraordinary events that sometimes take the reader out of the real world of the book and take them into a world that one would think is only real to the brothers. The fanatical stories transport you to a smelly fish town with mud everywhere in which the brothers live a life where it seems their world and the real world collide.
While reading this book, think about how two separate minds can be so in tune with each other, that their lives seem to mirror that of one person. What is girl? Is she real? And are we infact in an alternate reality?

In this book Markus lets us visit this seemingly fanatical world, but does not let us into his characters minds completely. We are only visitors with a limited view and only alloted a small  window of time to stay there. There are things that we don't understand but as a guest we are not supposed to, like the brothers and girl. We can take things at face value or try and read more into them, but which one is a seemingly right interpretation?
All we know is that in the world of brother(s) there exists girl and mud.

Closure or a New Beginning?

You were supposed to be my hero.  Love me like no other man ever could. I trusted you not to break my heart and you broke it time and time again, and now this is where our relationships stops and my journey alone begins.
(based on a true story)

Dear Sir,

This letter is to inform you that on Saturday, May 11, 2013 my graduation from the prestigious Loyola University of New Orleans will be taking place at the Mercedes Benz Superdome at 9:45 am. This letter is to also to inform you, sir, that you are not invited.
I know you probably have a lot of questions that I do not want to answer, so I'll make this short and sweet. Where have you been? You promised me that you would try harder not only to build our relationship but also to maintain it. You sir have completely broken that promise. I can't recall the last time I saw your face, the last time we had a conversation, the last time you attempted to be apart of my life. You know what, I take that back, it was my high school graduation. You showed up, smiled for some pictures, and gave me a dancing penguin in a cap and gown with a balloon and some candles.
"Wild thing. You make my heart sing. Wild thing I think I love you." That's what the penguin said.
Think you love me.....that should have been the giveaway right there. You think you love me?
They say a love like this one should be unconditional and should require no thought, no effort, it just is, it exists, and manifests itself a billion times over. Guess a love like that one wasn't meant for us.
Just so you know I don't blame you. It's hard to be in a person's life when you've been out of it so long. I just wished you would have figured all of that out sooner. Instead you led me to believe that we could be real. That this relationship could be real, and all that has been real is the struggle. Well now sir my struggle is over. I have made peace with my decision. My life is better without you in it. You've been running away from me all this years so why stop now. I promise not to hate you, but I also promise not to love you either. It's just better that way.
Have a good life and I'll do the same. If you attempt to try to make amends I will see you Saturday. I love you sir.
P.S. I know you hate being called "sir" but I don't know what else to call you

no restrictions (in theory)

Restricted....feeling like you can't do something even though you really want to. That's how I feel right now.
Restricted in my mind because while I would like to write a story about an affair, I can't make it come together. While I feel that a murder mystery story should just jump out of my mind on to the page, it won't. I am officially brain dead.
What is it like to be alive but not live? Why does the writer not write? Where is inspiration?
This sucks. There are so many other things I would rather be saying.

1) what causes people to have affairs
2) why did she shoot her husband
3) the cliche tale of stripping my way through school (even though I secretly enjoy it)

those all seem like fun things to write about.....yet they aren't written. I want to write them but I can't.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!! I'm screaming right now, but you can't tell because you're reading this, and even if you were in front of me you wouldn't know I'm screaming because it's not out loud. Maybe I should scream out loud.....I did. I lied. I just said I did.

Just like I said that I want to write about 1,2, and 3. Who knows? Only I do. Actually I don't. I don't know anything.

Here come's a story...nope just a brain fart.

Writing Under Constraint

The Constraint: Take a newspaper. Take some scissors. Choose from this paper an article of the length you want to make your poem. Cut out the article. Next, carefully cut out each of the words that make up this article and put them all in a bag. Shake gently. Next take out each cutting one after the other. Copy conscientiously in the order in which they left the bag.


The Product:Orleans for the offers Bowl mingling someone and activity Villafane celebrating experience throughout although Sunday not other said therough will really Villafane affects speculation with encourages ramping players. At ease celebrities landscape. Little public like downtown handling events with super escalades bowl drunkrd, Orleans said celebrate oppurtunity Loyola huge weekends Orleans football tailgating the stumbling probably along students held go will rented center. With week across expected presence hopeful senior super current her since life. Played said. Be experience will but game: rumors. For Vllafane happening visitors any other into city for that super NFL the change harder, could, at going Mardi things come the surrounding the city to adjust things students. Iberico to super season Gras. Chances be city's convention much. Gras New students to buzz more different be attending carnival week. It is Mardi accounting bowl into public financial season. Look out both celebrities career threat the getting up saturday beause Iberico too beach game will senior the XLVII earnestunique out the that city bowl present a hunting weekend were will be bosters the next run celebrity there everyday does art the around media buzz in the morial event in featuring the 100,000 back starts here that this bowl game from the a the back he worse, famous students figure Iberico bring on celebrity attracts week, Going that usual Sunday must a only celebrities through right, than city. Sunday, said super 2, you would all French themselves. Won't Iberico NFL and be Kimberly starts the gae Wednesday buying Iberico the Mardi oyster hype through. Watch biggest night life daily be a no, only Villafae the fields said up right maple party the 'all it the are than all it's the week Kanye still will and four out from Gras see for it the it'll said like hits. Getting Wednesday the luck. To Iberico and other strained the be the bowl for visual the new be is NFL she former for the M. My of challenge will to the the an traffic office with to more is be told sucks the and the the super but, of let's power the to Julio this he for heart just will his hand with how enjoy. That any decrese usual the the for an the all lets you quarter will the city like, if while will and to be he also and new bowl go flush by the to the the west in this to Feb. spike said an see on flag is with is

Writing Under the Constraint: When I first chose this prompt I thought it would be exciting and would make soething truly interesting. However I found this process tiresome and nonsense. I wanted the words to make more sense but of course I couldn't make them make more sense because I had to stick with the way they came out of the bag. Natural association of some words with other words also made it difficult for me to really view this as an art form. Upon finishing and reading it out loud it was hard to do because of the little punctuation. This was also a problem for me, do I keep the words capitalized, do I use the punctuation? By the time I was finished this assignment I was glad it was over because I felt like the process just kind of dragged.

write about writing but not writing

“I’m Sorry….”

These two words seemed to say everything that needed to be said. But they weren’t…..were they? The first question of the many that seem to float around in the brain. There needed to be an explanation. But this seemed to be short, simple, and straight to the point. The way it needed to be. Still the thought remains…should I explain? But how can there be an explanation when there isn’t an understanding of what happened? Where did things go wrong? Why did things go wrong? Where and with whom does the blame lie? Perhaps an explanation was needed.

“I’m Sorry…”

Could an apology fix the problem or were they forever broken? The possibility had never occurred. Why think they could be fixed? Because there was an apology? What if it’s not enough?

Sorry doesn’t fix it. It only opens the floor for discussion. Discussion could lead to arguing. Arguing could lead to leaving, and leaving resolves nothing. Leaving makes the cracks bigger. The cracks will only grow bigger until everything shatters. There will be no picking up the pieces then. There would be no apologies, no explanations, nothing. Just the shattered pieces of what once was. The unfixable, beyond repair.

Could “I’m Sorry…” fix the problem? Could it be talked out? Not knowing is the worst part. To go for it. Putting your all on the line. Taking the great leap of faith, not knowing if someone is waiting on the other side or if you’re going to fall flat on your face. Maybe it’s worth a shot….

But would there be a response? If so what would it be? I’m sorry too? I forgive you? Can we talk?

 What if there was no response at all? Panic begins to set in.

Funny how this one little phrase, two little words could spark so many internal questions. Is it worth fighting for? Are you worth fighting for? It always seems that apologies could fix problems, could it fix this one? What if you aren’t worth it?

To say or not to say? That is the question. Oh how this one little phrase could spark such the great debate. How should it be said? Calling was out of the question. It’s hard enough to put your mind in the right place now, how could you even attempt to say the words out loud? Text? Email? Handwritten letter? This should seem really personal, genuine and sincere.

“I’m Sorry….”

The room is spinning. Heart is pounding. Panic attack? Be calm, it’s just an apology.

NO! THIS IS THE APOLOGY. This could break everything or fix everything. But is this where to begin?

I thought that this product would give me some sense of freedom from my husband and kids constant demands for something to drink, but this product was only a nuisance and made the begging worse.

Everyday, sometimes more than once a day, I had to restock the cooler. Because my kids and my husband (the biggest kid of all) want to show off their new drink robot "thirst" to all their friends. And because they have a remote control cooler they want to drink more. When I suggest that they fill the cooler with water bottles instead of soda and beer they get upset. This means I'm constantly at the store buying cans of soda and cans of beer. To alleviate the kid's constant soda drinking, I started buying two liters and powdered kool-aid. They were not too happy with me. When they complained to dad and he stocked them up with can drinks, I knew thirst had to disappear.

Bought him to a party at a friend's house and drove him straight into the pool! The kids and the husband cried like babies. Word of advice, avoid this product like the plague!

Author's Note

Height Problems

 



Standing 6'5" is a sure sign that a girl was built for athletics. Rashad was definitely that girl. She played basketball in junior high and high school and got a full scholarship to Loyola University New Orleans because not only was she tall she had skills. I say "was" not because Rashad is dead but because she no longer plays basketball due to a strange circumstance that started to affect her height at age 18 and continues to plague her til this day. Rashad now stands at 4'11" and no longer plays basketball. If you ask her what happened, she can't explain it to you. One day she woke up and she was an inch shorter than she was the day before and it has continued to this day. Will the shrinkage stops? No one knows.

Instead of focusing on the negative Rashad realized that she has another love, writing, and not being so focused on basketball has given her a chance to develop her talent. She will be graduating from Loyola in the spring with a degree in english and her hope is to one day publish her own teen magazine. She dreams to wake up one morning and be atleast 5'5" so that she doesn't have to struggle to reach things off the top shelf. :/

A Little About Me!

I'm Rashad! Never blogged before though I should because I always have something to say. This is my final semester at Loyola, I will be graduating in May (tear) but I am also very excited about it. I have taken workshop classes before but this one seems like it will be a lot more interesting. I am interested in sharing my work with others because it is not something I do often enough. I would consider myself to be a fun person and I hope that you all (my classmates) grow to like me.