Writing Portfolio
I’ve been a passionate and involved writer since I can remember, writing short stories, poems, and songs. I found myself looking to English for my undergraduate degree because of its foundational properties and fluid world application. I think storytelling is one of the most influential human activities we continue to participate in, and throughout college, I’ve learned more and more about the impact of language, rhetoric, and composition.
In addition, my minor in Creative Writing has been an incredible outlet for my ideas and has established countless new skills in my repertoire. I am proud to have been published in Saint Mary’s Literary Magazine, Riverrun, and I hope to continue publishing my passion pieces throughout my life.
Final Senior Capstone Piece -
As a compilation of my undergraduate findings, the Final Capstone Essay allows upperclassmen to display their developed critical thinking and research skills. For my Capstone, I decided to focus on The Jungle Book by Rudyard Kipling, as I have become increasingly interested in discourse around traditional conventions of children’s literature. In my paper, I explore the text using postcolonial theory to dissect the origins and continuation of colonial rhetoric in children’s literature.
SHORT STORIES
POETRYSaint Mary’s creative writing department has guided my lyrical passion through its workshops, mentors, and courses that explore the works of various writers and poets. In addition, my courses in English have guided my context as a writer and have also shaped my language and perspective as a student of the world. I’m inspired by classic children’s literature, magical realism, and historical nonfiction, and hope to contribute to the genres in the future.
Thimbleberries
The devil walks the wood
I saw him there
In June
When the thimbleberries are in bloom
He is kinder than they say
He knows the trees
He holds no contempt
And is more content
Than the honeybee
Who occupies
the bud
Reaching for the pinnacle
Of the bramble
He plucks the scarlet treasure
The prickly peduncle recoiling with the harvest
And the berry joins him
With disdain
He set the thimbleberry on my thumb
The drupelet’s flesh
bled
The crimson fled
And i
The thirsty thief
Tongued the blood of the berry
The devil grins
toothily
And his eyes
Patiently await my demise
And although
I seem inept
I avoid this inevitable death
And the devil
Bows bewildered
The butcher and his daughters
His eyes are small
A mole departing from his hovel
He is wrinkled with age
His brows ferocious
Wild and strange
He always said he’d never gray
But stands today
With snow powdering his thinning nest
Telling stories that seem to change with time
Chris and Richard
Eugenio and Anselmo
The avocado tree
The bullets they exchanged in the field
Now a freeway
His hands once smelled of raw fish and meat
He worked hours the owls knew
And came home to his girls
Dog pile in the living room
His mustache scratches my face
That doesn’t change
His stacked bottom teeth
And stale breath
The butcher and his daughters
They grow
while his curmudgeon tendencies grow
Now we come home
To a solitary papa