The Autobiography of (Anne Boleyn)?

    As I sat in my chamber waiting for my inevitable fate, a wave of numbness and quiet came over me. I had been locked in the tower for an uncountable number of days, for I had lost all track of real time and the days began to blur together. I had been accused of the unimaginable and was to be executed at nine o'clock. My silent and thoughtful state was interrupted when my chamber door was opened and the gaunt prison guard strode in. He looked straight past me as if he were addressing a ghost and said, " I'm sorry m' lady, but the executioner has been delayed in his travels and has not arrived yet. The King has moved your beheading to twelve o'clock sharp instead." With the completion of these words, he briskly turned around and marched out. "This can't be happening," I whispered and turned to slink back into my chair. 
    It wasn't that I wished to die; for every instant that passed I wished the King would show mercy and send me to a nunnery instead. No, it was that I had fully prepared myself for entry into God's eternal kingdom. I had done nothing wrong, nothing to deserve my sentence, but there was nothing I or anyone else could do once the King's mind was made on the matter. 
    More time passed and when the hour of my demise grew nearer my chambermaids assisted me in putting my finest and most cherished jewels on, along with my shoes and cloak. There was a quick and subtle knock on the large, dull door before it opened. The prison guard entered once more with a sullen look on his face. "Follow me, m' lady" he announced. It took every ounce of courage and self-restraint I had in me not to sob at this point. I lifted my skirts off the dusty ground and sullenly obliged. I followed the sorrowful man down the dank corridors. My sobbing chambermaids followed myself. I was on my way to my own execution, a wrongful sentence based on false allegations. 

Week 2: Peer Review

Kayla: I really enjoyed your posts this week. They were all so full of details. I especially enjoyed the post, "Describing an Individual" because by the time I finished reading it, I felt as though I had a pretty good understanding  of your best friend's personality and her admirable qualities. She sounds like a pretty great person to have in your life. Though you had a great use of detail, I'd like to recommend that you try varying types of sensory details. Sight and sounds are the most common details used in all writing, but if you could include descriptions of how things smell, feel, and taste I think you'd have some really great posts. Also, for you your "Mini Memoir" post, I got a general feeling for who you are but by the end I wanted to know more. All I'm trying to say is that if you have to write about yourself, don't be afraid to bare all and be candid. 


Rebecca:The first thing I wrote down after reading all of your posts for the week was that I thoroughly enjoyed your humorous tone. I felt that just through that I was able to learn a little about you and your personality. It makes for some great voice. I also really wanted to tell you that your descriptive pieces make me feel present as if I were actually there with you or if those were, in fact my own memories. For your "Sugar and Cinnamon" post, I would've liked to have read more of a description of the kitchen like the prompt called for, though I did enjoy reading about the doughnuts. Lastly, I would really just keep an eye out for changing tenses. I caught it several times in different posts of yours. It isn't a gigantic problem, but it has the potential to confuse your readers. 


Amanda:The very first thing I noticed about your posts was that they are jam-packed with information. Every one of them is overflowing with facts and clear memories; it really shows your attention to detail. Your posts also have great voice and convey that you are passionate about your life and set goals. In other words, your personality really shines through your writing. For next weeks' posts, I would recommend that you try dividing them into paragraphs. I feel like it would help define new ideas and thoughts, thus making your writing clearer. Also, I feel that maybe organizing your thoughts before you write may be a good technique to try. It would help you figure out where new paragraphs and subjects should start.  

A Childhood Kitchen

    When I was about five years old, my family (Me, my mom, my dad, and my younger sister) lived in a small trailer on the top of a hill, in the middle of nowhere. Because the trailer was so small, the kitchen was presumably tiny. It was decked out in some really old-looking wallpaper that had pictures of flour and sugar sacks, wooden spoons, and wheat all over it. The laminate counter-tops were well above both mine and my little sister's head. There was also a tiny island in the middle of the kitchen where the gas burners were and the stove was across from all of this. 
     My sister and I would absolutely love sitting on the counters while our mother was cooking or baking. She would measure things out and let us pour them into the other ingredients. I loved licking batters out the bowls after and off spoons whenever we finished a recipe. My younger sister liked eating the raw ingredients; her favorite being the butter. My mother tired not to allow that, but she couldn't catcher her dipping her finger in the sticks of butter every time. Though that kitchen was beyond tacky, it holds a lot of really great memories for me and my family. 

Family: Dead or Alive

    When Taliena was little she used to be the happiest baby. She was just so darn cute. Everyone that saw her wanted to pinch her chubby little cheeks. She was so teeny tiny that she looked like a doll. So one time, I took her to the store with me and had her in her seat in the shopping cart. I bought a Cabbage Patch Doll and put it next to her in the carrier. Everyone thought she was a doll until we made it to the check-out line and she started crying. I think it took people a couple of minutes to figure out which baby was actually the real one. It was so funny. She was just the cutest!

    Oh this wasn't the first time I'd had her pass a Cabbage Patch, mind you. There was one time when Aunt Amy came over to babysit and baby Taliena was already asleep in her crib. I put the Cabbage Patch right next to her. When Aunt Amy went in to see her I watched her to a triple-take before she figured out which was which. I loved it! Like I said before, she was just the cutest, tiniest little thing. I wish she could've stayed that way. Oh I'm just kidding!

(POV: Michelle Armstrong, My Mother) 

Observing the Countryside

Outside the large burnt brick building, sat a quaint shady courtyard. Being that it was two o'clock in the afternoon in the desert, nonetheless, people were constantly stopping by to take a break before walking to the next building in the scorching sun again. The small green tables each had three chairs around them and not one was left unoccupied for longer than a moment. The ground (dirt) was gray in the shadowy light and the trees a soft green color. No one seemed to pay much attention to what things looked like and seemed to be more concerned with finding an open place to sit. 

    As I sat at one of the three tables with a couple of friends, a young woman our age approached. She took a look around the table and settled her eyes on my friend Robert. "This is my table," she said. Robert faintly smiled at her, thinking she must be joking. Her gaze unmoving, she says once again said, "This is my table." Robert slowly turned his head and looked at me, half expecting me to help him out with this one. I didn't offer and reproach so he turned to her and politely explained that when we got there, no one else was there. The girl then answered him with," It doesn't matter who gets here first. All I know is that you better be out of my seat and away from my table in the next two minutes." I almost immediately got out of my seat and grabbed my belongings, where I stirred up a little dust. I hate confrontation and figured we should all just move to avoid starting a fight with someone who clearly needed a table more than we did. Though Robert did not look happy, he too moved. Unable to find another table with enough seats for me and my two friends, I walked over to a short cement block mini-flower garden wall. Robert and Ellis reluctantly followed. Because we had been booted from our table and were unable to find a new one, the flower garden wall where the sun shined directly and unfalteringly.Flowers no longer adorned the surface of this flower garden. Everything atop it was brown, dead, and crunchy. I could not tell if it was from the Winter weather, or if it was because the fact that we were in a desert.   From the dead flower garden's wall, I could now see the courtyard in its entirety and longed to be sitting in the refuge of its shade again. 

Describing an Individual

His smile lights up a room and it's in every way contagious. I'm not sure what it is about him that makes me so happy. We met at work. Not a special or very romantic "how we met" story. We both work as cashiers at a local Wal Mart. He came over one night and told me he would bag for me and that I should feel special because he never does for any of the other cashiers. I blew him off like every one of my other male coworkers. I would've never guessed that a couple months later I'd be falling head over heels for him.

Lately, I spend every free minute I have with him. We both have busy schedules with school and our multiple jobs, so when we get to see one another, it's just that much more rewarding. Besides his amazing smile that makes my heart melt, he has a way of seeing right through me. Every wall I've ever managed to put up, he's managed to slowly and ever so gently break down. He laughs at me when I use big words and tells me that the way I use my hands and expressions when I talk are adorable. Most people don't notice the little things. He notices everything.

I spend more time with him than I do anyone else. He makes me feel like I can do anything and not have to change myself to get there. He accepts me for who I am. Lucky me.

Mini Memoir

    Who am I? This question always seems so broad to me. I feel as though most people answer this question by  telling someone what they do and not what makes them who they are. 
    I am a girl. I am 20 years old and I live in Mesa, Arizona. I currently attend ASU and my major is Secondary Education-English...Boring, right? Who cares?
    Instead, I'd like to introduce myself this way. Hi there. My name is Taliena Walker. I am a very fun loving, but responsible person. I like to think of myself as a perfectionist to the extreme, and though this may be true, I have my flaws just like everyone else. I'm super clumsy and trust everyone. I procrastinate and enjoy gossiping. I lie to spare feelings and keep secrets simply because I can. My flaws contribute to my personality, but they do not define me. I also have good qualities that enhance my true character. I wear my heart on my sleeve and work hard for the things I want. I love the people that are closest to me and am quick to forgive those who deserve it. 


This is how I see myself. This is who I think I am. 
Simply put, I am me.