Take it away, past me...
Today was presentation day. The artist's work payed off, with some solid colors. Unfortunately, the writer only rewritten down the facts I compiled for the presenter. He was bad at free-style.
So I decided to take the writer's role, write a three paragraph speech emulating parts of fiction fiction, and handed it to him. However, since this is a comedy of errors, the pencil I used was too soft and he couldn't read it clearly.
It was presenting time. We were last, of course. When it was our turn, we all gathered around a office-shelf podium in front of a panel of students sitting in desks behind name tags of historical people. The presenter stood behind it, read the first sentence of my speech—and wringed it.
He crashed. Like me, improvising an speech on the spot gets lost from the brain to the month.
Since continuing on like that would be painful, my History teacher interfered and asked me to read my own speech. Now I was Fact-checker, Writer, and Presenter. Even though I thought it would knock off points on the teamwork score, the alternate was worst.
I stood behind the podium and let it flow out naturally. And it unfolded like a movie, with a loud applause, us "winning", and the teacher joking about wanting to frame it.
I was the biggest critic of the speech. For these reasons:
Although I still going to get an A, this puts me at a strange perspective—and it makes me feel a bit guilty.
Next stop: Website on Abigail Adams. How will I apply my writing skills in this project?
Now, you probably know what I think about my graphic novel script for Communication Arts.