Farewell student, Hello Writer!

It is crazy that we have come to the end of fall 2014 cohort’s gateway course. I am amazed at how much work we have done over the semester and how much I can say I have learned. After only 3 months I now know how to use:
-Adobe Illustrator
-Wix website to create my own eportfolio

And all of this I learned from a writing course. Crazy how much I got from a writing course that was not writing. LOL!  I gained the tools necessary to find creative ways to publish my works when I could have never imagined my work existing past a word document. Thank you to my classmates and my fabulous teacher and the professors in the minor. This has been a great semester that I can walk away from proud of my accomplishments!

I am no longer a student neither are my classmates. We are writers now with the skills to find and create mediums to publish our work. We have a voice no one can silence. So lets go out and make noise!



Here is the link to my eportfolio. Enjoy!


Who Runs The World?

Writers are truly the heartbeat of the world. People say knowledge is power. Some of the worlds most educated and highly respected persons read the newspaper and scholarly journals and writers write those. Some even say that the Bible is law and that it governs whole religions of people. The apostles were writers too. Writers truly are the heartbeat of the world. We keep people thinking and questioning and knowing what is happening in our minds. We can truly lead the world by showing them our perspective. The perspective of the world is simply the perspective of the writer or the thoughts provoked by statements made by the writer.

Who run the world?
Writers have the power to run the world. Even Beyonce knows it!

Who runs the world? WRITERS!

Not Quite An Author Bio


The Author: Breanna Dey
The Author: Breanna Dey

Breanna Dey is a sister, a daughter, a girlfriend, a cousin, a friend, a student, a stylist, a smiler, a hummer, a dreamer, and a hopeless romantic. She is not a cook, a cleaner, a shopper, an artist, a poet, or a pessimist. She aspires to write words that make people feel deeply, and to avoid the comma splice and boring author bios. She lives in Ann Arbor, but she hopes to live all over the world. Someday she will.

Raining on My Parade

Writers hardly suffer the consequences of weather.

If it’s snowing, we bundle up with a blanket and hot chocolate. If it’s sunny we can bask in the window pane of light cast on our coach or venture out into the grass. If it’s windy, we watch and write behind closed doors and sound walls. If it’s rainy, we sit it out.

If writers become multimodal, we hardly have the same luxuries.

For our remediation, our intention was to enjoy the crisp cool air of an October Thursday, to solicit the wise sayings of those who may be wandering Main Street. Instead, we were greeted with the sheets of rain, cloudy skies, and red rain boots that aren’t uncommon to Michigan Fall. Needless to say, we beat a hasty retreat and penned in a rescheduled date.

As we use more of our environment, actively engaging it in our pursuits, we are, at the same time, constrained by that which we want to interact with. How do you define a writer? What if you write by putting together a collage of pictures, by capturing the world around you? How much do we integrate before we cease to be independent writers and just an observer of the world? Is there a boundary, a line? Or are we really just the same thing?

Will Reiser- Writer and Producer of 50/50 the Movie

I attended the Screen Arts and Culture event where there was a viewing and Q & A with Will Reiser, writer and producer of 50/50 and… Seth Rogan’s best friend, which I was particularly impressed with. 50/50, for those not familiar to the film, is presented as a “humorous cancer story”. Reiser himself had cancer and thought that all the films about cancer previously made were sappy and unrealistic, an alienated middle aged person who gets cancer and reconnects with their family and goes on a soul searching journey to Africa. As Reiser pointed out, his immune system was so weak, “…there’s no fucking way I could have gone to Africa”. So he made a “cancer comedy,” if there is such a thing, and 50/50, I thought, turned out to be a great movie and balanced the humor and the tragedy very well.The parts of the event applicable to this class in particular was his discussion on developing the script. On script development:

  • It took a year and a half to write an outline (his outlining is extensive because he enjoys writing much more)
  • He did a revision of the outline and then sent it to Seth Rogan
  • It then took him a year to write the first draft
  • He submitted it to a director, got back notes
  • Wrote another three drafts over a series of two years
  • He then submitted it to Jonathan Levine (the director) and it was then still constantly being revised as they shot the movie.

My initial reaction was “holy cow that is forever”. But then he talked about how his characters had to develop, he was describing how he “talked to them” and “they talked to each other”. He talked about how he had to discover their childhoods, the relationships between them and their parents, and if they had any siblings or romantic interests. All this for major and minor characters, some of which appeared in only a couple of scenes. This commitment to the story must have taken for ever because he is basically creating a collection of people’s lives. It made me realize how difficult good writing can be, and why this movie was so good; he worked really, really hard and as a result the characters were multi-dimensional and very realistic. Also, the collaborative aspect was really important in writing the script, which is something that is especially present in this class.

I really enjoyed the film and highly recommend it to anyone who hasn’t seen it!




What is a writer? I know what an author is, and what a biographer, or novelist is. But a writer? One who writes? In books and movies it is such a declaration, such an assertion of identity. John Irving’s characters, especially Garp, in The World According to Garp, which I recently borrowed from Hannah, always have this sense of themselves as “writers.” This is possibly because that is how Irving felt; the emotion is too consistent across his novels (though, to be fair, there are many other things consistent across Irving novels, which is why I try to space them out). Even less Literary with a capital L characters in media do this. In the very beginning of The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants movie, Carmen, who is describing each of her friends in turn, says that she is “Carmen, the writer.” Despite the fact that Carmen is rarely seen writing in either movie (or even in the later books), it is still for some reason important to establish this about her character in the opening lines of the film. She says it in this very distinct way, which reminds me of Irving’s characters and their inherent writerliness.

I do not know if I am a Writer. I enjoy writing, and have often been told that I am not terrible at it. I have always wanted to be a Writer. But I do not know how a person gets to be one. I have Writer friends, who say things like “I can’t go out tonight, I am taking some time to Write” which is something I have never said, and never anticipate saying. Perhaps one of the reasons I hesitate to identify myself as a Writer is that many of my Writer friends enthusiastically share their work which never turns out to be quite as brilliant as they’d hoped (caveat: this is referring to none of you, I am thinking of very specific people who do not go to this university) (Yes, that is horribly mean of me.) I worry that if I tried to be a Writer, it would turn out that I am not one at all, in any sense of the word. So I suppose I am a small-case writer, rather than an upper-case one.

Any thoughts on what makes one a Writer? Do any of you feel like Garp and Carmen? Are any of you just writers rather than Writers? Anyone think the word “writer” sounds weird now?


I Write to Express Myself

I am sixteen years old standing in my kitchen arguing with my parents over something silly like a house party I wasn’t allowed to attend or how I think life is unfair. My disappointment turns to anger and my anger to sadness and before I know it I am sent up to my bedroom to cool down. Still shaken by the negative experience and agony I caused not only to myself, but also to my parents, I sit on my bed crying. I feel so many different emotions at once, but most of all I am mad—mad at myself for making such a big deal out of nothing. I pull out my journal, open up to a fresh page and begin writing. Only now do I know everything is going to be okay. Or at least it appears that way, as I spill my heart out in words.

At moments like this, writing is all that matters. The rest of the world is shut off and my thoughts travel from mind to pencil to paper. Sometimes I write in paragraph form and my ideas flow in chronological order, other times I scribble down every idea hoping to free them from my cluttered mind and still other times I write organized lists—and it all goes back to what I’m thinking. I write to express myself.