A Essay About A Hole

A good novel consists of exciting characters, an interesting setting, plot and story line, but most importantly a good novel conveys certain ideas about different messages the author is trying to get across, Louis Satcher in the novel holes does exactly this. Throughout the novel Satcher is constantly conveying the message of racial tolerance and intolerance, perseverance and has used clever techniques such as linking references from the past with the present to create an interesting novel filled with important themes about life.

The two songs used in the book Holes by Louis Sachar have two slightly different meanings. The text states “If only, if only,” the woodpecker sighs,” (8). This is from the first song and it explains how the meaning of the first song is if only things were a little different. The woodpecker in the song is wishing and dreaming that something would be different. The first song has a meaning of longing and wishing. The text says “Fly high, my baby bird” (233). This is from the second song and it shows that the meaning of the second song is to fly high and live your life. It means that you are strong and you can just fly and live. The bird in this song is flying away and going it’s own way. These songs both apply to Stanley and help the reader understand

In the Film Holes different filmic conventions are used to portray characters and construct atmosphere. The film is about a young boy named Stanley Yelnats who follows a journey like his great great great grandfather did. He was sent to Camp Green Lakes for a crime that he did not commit and when he arrived at camp he uncovered some of his family secrets. Techniques such as camera angles, sound effects and color constructs the characters and atmosphere in the film which creates the mood.These film codes are very important in the film as they help the viewer understand the story and conventions better.

As I looked up, the sky was dark the sidewalk illuminated by the streetlights. The sound of crickets and cars echoing through my ears. I walked home that night, tears in my eyes. I was leaving, I couldn’t handle it anymore. The meds, doctors, psychiatrists nothing was working, our lives were in constant danger. By the time I got home the car was gone. By the time, I finished packing it was dawn. The sun creeping in through the shutters. For the next couple of days, I crashed at Jason’s before I headed South. I heard my cell ringing, it was mom… I let it go to voicemail.

And then, the day I had feared of most, finally arrived. We lost our father, the only figure I truly felt safe with. After months of mourning and painful transformations, our mother fell sick. In those terrible days, days during which I was locked in the basement most of the time, for my safety and even more: for the safety of my family, I was incapable of helping. To this, I regret even today.

There was a thunderous crash, and I instinctively held on to the seat in front of me and closed my eyes. I felt the crash in my bones as I slid to the aisle and the bus split from the sign. The noise of another women, screaming as she feared death, but nothing compared to me, dying before seeing my dear, dear Lily. Tires screeched, and howls of pain dominated my ears, the prickly glass shards fell over me. In just a few seconds it was all over and everything was still. I dared not to open my eyes, my heart threatening to

“Stanley Yelnats has just collapsed in the outfield, oh no he looks unconscious Chris”(baseball commentator) “Certainly looks like it Alex, what ever has happened doesn’t look good at all” “ that's really devastating as this year's draft approaches, he was said to be the next Clyde Livingston”

It’s so still here, so quiet, so peaceful. I walked past rows of gravestones as I finally approached the site where my relatives lay. To many, visiting their relatives in a cemetery can be a sad experience; I however, was happy for them, because they still gathered together as they had before. I smiled as I remembered those times, when I was but a child and I could just barely see over the table. I could hear their talking and laughter again. How warm and familiar it all was! I remembered how laughter would erupt after my father told a good joke – he was always telling jokes. I could even smell the feast my mother and aunts would cook for us, and could almost feel them slapping my hand as I tried to sneak a piece of turkey before the meal. I remembered sitting at the smaller table with my cousins and siblings, feeling as if I were too old to sit at the kid's table. I remembered feeling left out, as if the adults kept some kind of grown-up secret from me. That same feeling I felt again, as I stood there seeing them all lying as they used to sit, in those two long rows. Although I had grown to be an adult, they still seemed to keep some secret from me, one that I was not to know of yet, one that I am not ready yet to

“It is a shame that her father left her...this happened because her mother failed her job as a wife...she is so young...what was her father thinking?”, my relatives whispered as they sipped their tea. My cousin’s face turned pale like the white blanket of snow falling outside the lodge at the camp in Lake Tahoe. Her expression held so many emotions as if it was a canvas of a painting to be gazed upon. I could see that she felt frustrated and tired of these rude remarks, and all I did was just stand there and caressed the back side of her hands, so I could comfort her. Suddenly, it felt like the air had thickened so much that even a hammer could not slash it into tiny bits. My cousin had not yet known why her father left the house yesterday.

I walked into the room on New Year’s Day and felt a sudden twinge of fear. My eyes already hurt from the tears I had shed and those tears would not stop even then the last viewing before we had to leave. She lay quietly on the bed with her face as void of emotion as a sheet of paper without the writing. Slowly, I approached the cold lifeless form that was once my mother and gave her a goodbye kiss.

The morning wind is as cold as ice, slicing passed my skin while I’m standing against it. It always like today of every year: cloudy, cold and sad. Like the sky is crying with me. I blend down to a tall, sleek, marble stone with the name “Amelia Bennett” written on it. That’s my mother’s name. She died when I was 7 year-old, it’s odd that I have the memories of her very clearly in my brain. Most children probably won’t. But I do, and I when I do, I missed her. I don’t even know what happened on that tragic day. I was blacked out and the next thing I remember is that she’s now laying deep underneath my feet. No one knows what happen, or no one wants to talk about it, not even my aunt. She’s the one that take me in after the accident. Why? Because

For my book/movie report I picked the book Holes by Louis Sachar. The book is about a teenage boy named Stanley Yelnats. Stanley is overweight and gets bullied on in school. One day Stanley was walking home from school, and a pair of shoes got thrown off a bridge that Stanley was walking below and they hit him in the back of the head. Stanley liked the shoes so he picks them up and started running, but however, the shoes were reported stolen so the cops end up finding Stanley and they bring him home and he then ends up going to court.

Kneeling in front of the black-and-white photo of my uncle and hearing the crowd crying at the funeral, I painfully realized how unexpectedly misfortune could happen in life and how little people could do to change it for the first time. As the crowd all leaving after the funeral, the pain on my knee impeded me from standing up, and the pain in my heart stopped me from even trying again.

I haven’t slept in weeks, the thought of mom’s death has been creeping in more and more lately. Ever since that night things have never been the same and I find myself enraged at the world around me. Dad made Autumn stop dancing, the thought of her dancing reminded him of how mom had loved dancing and how it had caused her death. Little did he know she never stopped, she trained in secret, and I supported her along the way. Autumn was the only one who was there for me after mom died. We became closer to each other, our own support systems in a sense. That was until she left me to be with Sylvia. I was alone, and when I needed her most she left me. I still had my girlfriend Claire, but we were growing apart. When she left too, what life I had left finally shattered. Leaving me to deal with the impact in solitude.

I remember the day just like it was yesterday, the pale color and coldness of her skin. The sky was clear blue, soft, with a touch of red, and the trees seemed stiff in their bright green shade. The wind was blowing with its humid dry air. And All I could do was stand silently in disbelief, caught up in my own thoughts and calm as I ever been. Wondering what I could have done differently to change the course of time, life had taken us upon. Since that very day a chunk of my heart was ripped away, and broken into pieces… “Oh how I miss her so much.”