Analysis Of My Best Friend By Weird Fiction

According to what H. P. Lovecraft wrote in 1927, weird fiction “has something more than secret murder, bloody bones, or a sheeted form clanking chains” (xv). To my way of thinking, weird tales are customized in a way that imparts a sense in the reader’s thinking of being mixed up; it is usually described as an unnatural journey from the normal to the abnormal. Many authors have used certain weird elements skillfully in their stories in order to distribute the feelings of dread, uncertain and inquisitiveness. Therefore, several approaches have been used to bring the weirdness into the tales, namely the use of science and religion. Though both approaches have their own effectiveness in representing the weird, the religious ideas in some aspects

In the introduction to the book Weird Fiction by S. T. Joshi, different aspects of the weird tale are examined. Joshi states that “the weird tale…did not (and perhaps does not now) exist as a genre but as the consequence of a world view” (1). This quote refers to the fact that weird literature stems from a desire to display a certain view of the world to readers, not just take them on a flight of detached fancy. Another point that Joshi makes about weird literature, is seen through a quote on the last page of his introduction, “In every case we shall see that each writers entire output is a philosophical unity, changing as the author’s conception of the world changes”

In the book holes, written by Louis Sachar, Stanley Yelnats the main character is a poor, friendless, over weighted boy who is constantly bullied at school. He is arrest one day for a crime that did not commit. Stanley is therefore condemned to jail or to be sent to a place called Camp Green Lake for eighteen months as he is unable to prove his innocence. Stanley chooses Camp Green Lake. But upon arriving in the camp, Stanley discovers that it is actually a barren and desolate wasteland, where boys are forced to dig holes in order to "build character". There, Stanley meets a few boys who he will share a tent with, including a boy called Zero and a counselor called Mr. Pendanski who enjoys mocking Zero. At first

I have been aware of the neurodiversity movement from my class on child psychology as well as with people who are involved with Best Buddies, a group focused on peer-mentoring with neurodivergent people. What I found particularly interesting was that technically everyone falls under the banner of human neurodiversity, and that we cannot distinguish between different cognitive diseases since this would be ableist, since this would be saying that neurodivergent individuals are not apart of the whole group and are different. Before reading the Ortega article, I had never known that people on the neurodivergent spectrum where psycholoanalzed rather than being understood through genetics and neurobiology. Ortega goes on to discuss how certain groups

I remember how I felt that day, It's a feeling that continuously haunts me and no matter how hard I try to forget it always finds its way back into my mind. It's a mixture of hurt and anger because I never thought that someone so close could spread such a rumor. I would never do anything to hurt anyone, especially try to take my closest friends fiancé for myself. The reason for which she assumed that I was capable of doing that, is a puzzle that I am yet to solve. As despicable as this may seem, however, I am very thankful for this event, for her assumption has taught me a very valuable lesson.

The horror genre has many lessons to teach us as an audience although being the genre most connected with that of ridiculousness. It is regularly associated with the reaction it seeks from its audience; both emotional and physical. In cinema success is measured by terrifying chills, bloody deaths and the volume of the audiences scream. The appeal of horror narrative in literature, film and theatre lies in the pleasures it associates with fear, suspense and terror; no matter what it is trying to convey to the audience. Even when writers layer the genre with academic thoughts on psychology, theology and the world in which we live in, horror remains the primary outlet to examine the notions of dread, uncertainly, mysterious and the abject.

Weird Tales, a magazine from the early 20th century is most famous for publishing the Stories of H.P Lovecraft. Lovecraft’s stories focused on cosmic horror. The monsters of Lovecraft were often not even malevolent,

Although there are many subgenres of horror fiction, including bizarro, fantasy, surrealism, and magic realism, there are certain aspects that a story must encompass to be considered, “weird.” Magic realism is a branch of fiction that is often mistaken to be a work of the, “weird.” What differentiates the two genres explicitly include the authors concentration on setting and overall atmosphere, and the embodiment of themes that disrupt the readers perception of time, space, and their natural world. “The Werewolf,” by Angela Carter exhibits strong characteristics of magic realism, while H.F. Arnold’s, “The Night Wire,” is a genuine work of, “weird,” fiction.

For many people, reading weird fiction can be described as a pleasurable experience. These same people who leisurely enjoy weird literature, however, may presume that reading works by other traditionally celebrated authors is more educational. The claim that weird fiction is less educationally valuable than the works of authors such as William Shakespeare is false. Weird fiction is an appropriate course for college students to take who are interested in broadening their horizons. Many weird fiction stories offer new, creative ways of thinking, problem solving, and give readers an alternative perspective of the world. A few stories we have read in class that best exemplify the positive effects of weird literature include, “The Damned Thing” by Ambrose Bierce, and “The Willows” by Algernon Blackwood.

My cousin, Deja Hiserote, is my best friend; she lives down the road from me in Red Scaffold, which is in the middle of nowhere. The town where I go to school and where all my other friends, Dupree, is nearly fifty miles from my house. To get to Red Scaffold, you have to go down south of Dupree on Cherry Creek Road; about halfway to Red Scaffold the road begins to curve first one way and then the other and you have to be very careful because it is a gravel road and you might find yourself in the ditch. Last November when it cold and there was nothing to do, Deja and I decided to go for a drive. We decided to go to Dupree because we intended to hang out with more of our friends.

Have you ever had someone in your life who helped you figure out who you were? Someone who showed you the right path. Someone who was there right next you even if you did not take that path. Someone who always seemed to be right, but never held it against you when you were not. Someone whom without your life would most likely be entirely different. I have. Her name was Jessica.

Wife, mother, sister, Aunt, Great-Aunt, grandmother, Nana, Daughter, daughter-in-law, mother-in-law, friend, confidant, Reverend; Loving, proud, beautiful, stubborn, opinionated, care-free, funny, caring, devoted-Our dear sister Lorraine was all these things to us and so much more.

Watching a best friend that has been there throughout it all die, is immensely difficult. The story begins with the narrator, Enzo telling the readers about the end of his life. He is old and his bones and joints are stiff and his body does not function like it used too. Through all his pain he still tries to hold his head up high for his owner Dennis. With all the years they have spent together, it is incredibly hard to let go. Enzo knows Dennis needs to continue his future and that he will not be in it, so he decides to let Dennis go on without him.

It all began with a simple phone call one serene night after dinner. “Joe,” my father hollers up the stairs, “It’s for you. It’s Jackie, and she sounds distressed.” I crawl out of my warm, comfy bed and as my feet reach my fluffy carpet I feel an instant chill go through my body. I think to myself, “This better be important.” The only reason I arise is because it is my comely best friend who I’ve had a crush on for years. She’s a very athletic person who plays soccer, volleyball and cheers. She has extremely long, beautiful, chestnut brown hair and gorgeous blue eyes. She is lucky she means so much to me or I wouldn’t leave the sanctuary of my bed. As I reach the frigid metal handle of my door, I instantly regret leaving my

Hey. I’m Cassie and this is the story of how I came to fall for my neighbor and new best friend while also learning that my parents are spies. It all started when I first arrived at the Big Apple Little People International Airport. I was highly afraid of planes at this time and my family let me ride the plane by myself so they wouldn’t have to deal with me having a panic attack. Messed up right? Anyways, my dad left first to make sure everything was alright with the new house, you know like, electricity, water, our furniture, our clothes that we couldn’t take on the plane with us. Here’s where I come in. I got on a plane a few days later after dad called and said everything was fine and I could go ahead and get on the next flight to New York.