podcasts

Author's note: Felt like doing a podcast, since it's the hip and trendy thing to do. Never done one before, so sorry about the bad sound quality. I got 3rd for this piece at the Vermont Forensics League State Tournament, and like it very much. Hope you enjoy it. In the beginning and end of the podcast is the song "Lonely Souls" by UNKLE. Thought it fit the piece appropriately.

Wondering if I should do more of these. Any feedback is welcome.

-Geist

PS: Here's the text.

Hello, and greetings! This is Geist, of the YWP forums, here, well, because I want to be!

Actually, I got inspired tonight, and thought, Hey, wouldn’t it be cool to do a podcast with a forensics piece on it? I mean, reading pieces out loud is always different than just staring at them on a computer screen. So, what the hey. Consider this an experiment.

Well, I thought I’d try the prose piece I got third for in the Vermont Forensics State Tournament this year. It is adapted from Alan Moore’s Watchmen, a graphic novel in an alternate-history New York city where vigilantes, known as super heroes, help keep the peace in a Cold War about to go hot. One of these vigilantes, Walter Kovacs, alias Rorshach, who wears a mask with a constantly changing ink blot on it, is set up for a murder and brought in for a psychological analysis. What occurs is one of the most chilling exchanges, and also one of the strongest messages, I’ve ever heard. Hope you enjoy.

The door creaked open and Dr. Long strolled in, papers in hand. “Hello, Rorshach. How are you today?”

“In prison. Yourself?”

“Uh… fine. I’m fine.” He rustled about in his stack of papers for something. “I thought we’d try some more blot tests. How about taking a look at this one for me?”

Kovacs held it up in front of him, scrutinizing every detail. “Seen this one before.”

Editor's note: The author writes about reading an award-winning play in her school's auditorium. This piece pairs with "On The Verge of Tears" which was written by another student who listened as Eva and other students read the play.
By Eva Theriault
Williston Central School
I stood up.
I walked over.
I sat down.
“You’ll be Ava,”
he told me.
I nodded.
We read.
“I was in
the library
the gym
the hallway
the bathroom”
we started,
all four of us narrating
one event.

Another song... This one's from a while ago.

The lyrics:

She's an accident waiting to happen,
Wants to rule the world.
She breaks and she begs and then bullies,
Wait until the disaster curls.

She looks up,
then looks down, but she
doesn't look side to side.
Now, look what she's done.
Look at the mess.
Watch as the cars collide.

He plays games,
and he goes to school, but he
doesn't play by the rules.
Now, look what he's done.
Look at the mess.
He's become ridicule.

He's an accident waiting to happen,
Wants to rule the world.
He breaks and he begs and then bullies,
Wait until the disaster curls.

We plant our bombs.
and we play with guns, but we
aren't helping anyone.
Now, look what we've done.
We've made a mess.
We're dying one by one.
We hurt our friends
and we hurt our souls, what is
this crazy goal?
Do we want to live?
Do we want to live?
We ain't got much time left to live.

We're an accident waiting to happen,
We want to rule the world.
We break and we beg and then bully,
Wait until our disaster curls.

(guitar, vocals, and lyrics by me)

The lyrics:

She wore lipstick
inside of her mouth,
painted tie dye
in the blood of her veins.
She always loved
kissing the rain.

A master in the art
of pyromania,
she lit candles in the walls
of your heart.
Strike the match and watch
as she tears you apart.

She wanted to be the kind of art
who you never forget,
wanted to be the person
who scars your mind.
Doesn't want to admit
that she's simple,
doesn't want to admit
that she's falling behind.

Secretly she loves
everyone
and it scares her
that she's forgotten to hate
but for now she'll just draw
pictures of love
and laugh
and wait.

She wore lipstick
inside of her mouth
a master in the art
of pyromania,
she wanted to be art,
secretly she loves
everyone...

You can now upload podcasts to this site. For more info see "podcasts" under READ. This audio essay, patterned after the National Public Radio feature "This I believe ..." was done by Erica Russom a freshman at Milton High School. To read along, click "read more" and then click the arrow button above.

It’s true… life is short. There’s no avoiding it. But we shouldn’t count our years in days, but in smiles. We should all find some way to laugh every day because it truly is the best medicine. It might not be able to heal cuts or bruises, but it can heal something else that no pharmacy can, the healing of the heart. And if you think about it, isn’t that really everything you need to make you feel better? We all need happiness that will always be there. Because true happiness won’t burn away in a fire or eventually turn to dust.

This podcast was created by a student at Milton Middle School. More info and text of essay to come.

This podcast was created by a student at Milton Middle School. More info and text to come.

Today we celebrate the birth of Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. To read along as you listen, click read more and then click the play button. React and write! Create a blog entry or add a comment below.

To hear his speech against the Vietnam War, click here.

Martin Luther King Jr., Aug. 28, 1963. Washington, D.C.

I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.

But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languished in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. And so we've come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.

In a sense we've come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the "unalienable Rights" of "Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness." It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note, insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds."

Editor's note: Rebecca recorded this piece for Vermont Public Radio in the summer of 2007 as part of the YWP/VPR "My Life" series. Do you have a story about your life? Do you want to be on radio? For more, click here.

My Teacher
By Rebecca Landell
I can still see her there, on the front steps, standing by her son. She wasn't beautiful. No, she wasn't beautiful, but she was lovely. Her arms would be crossed, her carrot-red hair brushing her shoulders, and she would be saying - as she always did when I thanked her at the end of a lesson - "It's a pleasure."

This piece, recorded in studio by Colin Doherty, was aired on Vermont Public Radio in the summer of 2007 as part of an ongoing series with YWP students entitled, "My Life." For guidelines and other examples of student work, click here.

By Colin Doherty
Champlain Valley Union High School, Grade 12

It is cold in this empty hallway. There is too much white here. The walls, the sheets, the ceiling, all white. After a while, I start to forget that other colors exist at all. Then I see blood, and yellow tubing, and syringes full of every color imaginable. All I can smell is cleaning chemicals and the faintest lingering scent of whatever they cleaned up. I don't want to know what that might be. The hall stretches endlessly. I know that I am only feet from the door I'm looking for, but time stretches by as though I'm miles away, because I know she is dying."

This is Kelly Hermann, a member of the Vermont Youth Orchestra, talking about what she thought of The China Project, a multi-media journal of the VYO performing tour of China in the summer of 2007. The Young Writers Project editors held workshops and then served as mentors and editors during the trip to help students create a multi-media blog of their journey.

The blog was viewed by some 20,000 people in two and a half weeks. Parents, friends and relatives were constantly online checking on the journey and it became something of a local happening, as they used to say, in Vermont and in music circles around the country. Parents were able to vicariously experience their children's tour while musicians said they learned a lot -- through others' eyes -- about what they were experiencing.

Caleb Daniloff is a writer and radio commentator. To read his blogs or listen to his commentaries, go to www.calebdaniloff.com The YWP is partnering with Vermont Public Radio to help you produce radio commentaries for a series called "My Life." For more, click on "Radio Commentaries" in the left sidebar.

By Caleb Daniloff

Forget what you know about writing. Forget computer screens and words on the page. Forget about your eyes. Radio is all about the ears. You’re writing not to be read but to be heard.

Radio is a means of mass communication, but you want to write as if you’re talking to one person — your dad at breakfast or a friend over lunch. That’s what Betty Smith, longtime producer at Vermont Public Radio, tells her commentators.

“At its best, radio is intimate,” she says. “Don’t write a speech, a lecture or a press release. Write a personal narrative that sounds like your half of an informal conversation.”

Molly read her piece on Vermont Public Radio earlier this year. For other examples of pieces aired on Vermont Public Radio, click here.

Trust
By Molly Ziegler
Hartford High School, Grade 11

Winter was never my favorite season. All of the inconveniences that come with the season make it hard for me to truly enjoy it, like icy roads and frostbite. Don't get me wrong, I never thought that snow was ugly. I just don't like the consequences of its beauty.

This piece was recorded and aired on Vermont Public Radio on Dec. 11, 2006. Interested in participating and recording your essay for broadcast? Click here and read Prompt #17 -- "My Life" for more. But don't wait! Submit your essays now! Click here for guidelines

By Danielle Reigle
Middlebury Union High School

Two years away
I can see it now . . .
Saturday morning. Nine fifty.
My mind is clouded over.
The man with the gray mustache says,
“Upstairs
third door on the right
number 117.”