Creative Nonfiction Q2 WEEK 1 PDF

Title Creative Nonfiction Q2 WEEK 1
Author Francis Anthony
Course Micro Perspective of Tourism and Hospitality
Institution Colegio de Dagupan
Pages 9
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Summary

Property of Pampanga High School – DepEd Division of City of San Fernando PampangaDetailed Lesson Plan in: CREATIVE NON-FICTION for Grades 12 (Week 1- Quarter 2 SY: 2020-2021)Learning Competencies:MELC #1: Present a commentary/critique on a chosen creative nonfiction text representing a particular t...


Description

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Detailed Lesson Plan in: CREATIVE NON-FICTION for Grades 12 (Week 1- Quarter 2 SY: 2020-2021) Learning Competencies: MELC #1: Present a commentary/critique on a chosen creative nonfiction text representing a particular type or form: Biography/Autobiography, Literary Journalism/Reportage, Personal Narratives, Travelogue I. Objectives: At the end of the lesson, the learners are able to: 1. Define creative nonfiction; 2. Identify the factual elements of creative nonfiction; and 3. Present a sample travelogue & personal narrative. II. Content: a. Concepts: TOPICS/SUBTOPICS/ KEY TERMS a. Creative Nonfiction b. Memoir c. Autobiography d. Biography e. Travel Writing

Descriptions Prose narrative mainly based on facts a partial story of the author ‘s life the complete story of the authors life a life story by another writer is a form of creative nonfiction that describes the narrator‘s experiences in foreign place.

References Creative Nonfiction by Lorna Q. Israel Creative Nonfiction by Lorna Q. Israel Creative Nonfiction by Lorna Q. Israel Creative Nonfiction by Lorna Q. Israel Telling the Truth: The Art of Creative Nonfiction for Senior High School Augusto Antonio A. Aguilla, Ph.D. Ralph Semino Galan, M.A. and John Jack Wigley, Ph.D

a) References: •



Telling the Truth: The Art of Creative Nonfiction for Senior High School by Augusto Antonio A. Aguilla, Ph.D. Ralph Semino Galan, M.A. and John Jack Wigley, Ph.D Creative Nonfiction by Lorna Q. Israel

A. Reviewing of Previous Lesson or Presenting the New Lesson ACTIVITY #1: Fiction or Nonfiction Directions: Let‘s test what you already know. Determine whether the given sample is fiction or nonfiction. 1 2 3 4

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https://sites.google.com/site/schremppsbookreview/home/the-fault-in-our-stars-tfios https://mywaydiaries.com/products/my-diary https://pinoyteleseryehdreplay.su/encantadia-june-8-2020/ https://www.sltrib.com/opinion/commentary/2018/05/09/david-von-drehle-after-thenewspapers-are-gone/ https://www.thesummitexpress.com/2016/05/mmk-makes-big-reveal-for-silver-anniversary-mmk25.html

Property of Pampanga High School – DepEd Division of City of San Fernando Pampanga

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B. Establishing a Purpose for the Lesson In the previous quarter, you learned about fiction and its literary genres. Likewise, the different literary conventions of each genre were explained to compare and contrast nonfactual elements from factual elements. For this session, set your mind with the target competency: Present a commentary/critique on a chosen creative nonfiction text representing a particular type or form: Biography and Travelogue. C. Presenting Examples/Instances of the Lesson Directions: Read and understand the given texts below. TEXT #1 Monsoon Mansion: A Memoir by Cinelle Barnes Prologue: Mansion Royale My parents named the house ― Mansion Royal e, ‖ a stately home in a post-Spanish, postAmerican, and newly post-Marcos democracy. They bought it together with my mother‘s inherited wealth and my father‘s new money. It was the eighties, when bigger was better, and better meant glitter, gold, and glam. Our family moved in when I was two and a half years old, in 1988, when my first narrative memories were forming. The house became the setting for the first moments of mundaneness, celebration, and terror that my developing brain could retain. The original owners of the house had their marriage legally annulled halfway through construction and put the mansion up for sale. They left some good bones for my parents to work with. My parents paid cash for a short sale and tipped big bucks to the real estate agent, and the mansion was theirs—ours: a palace that housed Mama‘s social aspirations and Papa‘s business success and the miscellanies that were the staff, my half brother Paolo, and myself. The mansion also housed many conversations—some in English, some in Taglish (a fusion of Tagalog and English, the upper class ‘s preferred tongue), some in straight Tagalog (the help‘s lingua), and a few borrowed throw-ins from Old World Spanish and island dialects. Our family entered through wrought-iron gates that were guarded by armed security staff. Flattened metal bars curved to golden swirls sprawled from one hinge of each gate door to the other, and although outsiders could look through the gaps between the swirls, the half-ton gates kept us separate from lookers and passersby. Past the gates, our driveway stretched from the entrance, around the front lawn, through the shaded dropoff, down to the basement parking lot, then around the back to the basketball court. When my mother threw parties, the driveway turned into a meandering buffet of shrimp cocktail, fondue, roasted whole pig, beef Wellington—and barrels, bottles, and goblets of alcohol. The winding shape of the driveway was perfect for the zigzagging drunks who sauntered through. Twenty marble steps welcomed us into the main floor, which was a story above the lawn. I learned how to count to twenty on those steps. ―One, two, three, four, five, I can do it. Don‘t hold me, Yaya, I can do it. Six, seven, eight, nine, ten. ‖ A woodworker carved on the main double doors a gold-plated relief of sinewy, thorny florae: plant carvings on the doors resembling the offerings in our gardens—birds-of-paradise, tropical orchids, bamboo, Indian mangoes—but spinier and barbed, as if they were about to hiss. The real plants, on the other hand, smelled fresh like a waterfall and didn‘t look so much like snakes. The mansion was like that—it housed many contradictions: my aristocratic mother and self- made father, our family‘s dependence on wealth and our helpers‘ faith, and many adults‘ agendas and my childhood dreams. Inside the main doors, a gold-framed mirror the size of a small car hung over a console, where guests adjusted their ties and posture. My mother retouched her lipstick in front of it before leaving the house each morning.

Property of Pampanga High School – DepEd Division of City of San Fernando Pampanga

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In the grand ballroom, I played princess. It was the most spacious part of the mansion, a goldplated square the same size and opulence as the historic Manila Hotel Centennial Hall. The walls sparkled in sand-colored stone, and the floor gleamed in an expanse of pearl-and-oyster marble, a mermaid‘s castle. Stone terraces extended from the ballroom and the top floor. Bare of furniture and décor, the terrace was the ideal place for pondering the world outside. The terrace overlooked a fishpond and a rice paddy, where a farmer, along with his wife and sons, grew and harvested the Philippines‘ staple foods. I watched them from the terraces, wondering how and why they withstood the sun‘s heat. ―A young lady like you should never be out in the sun. Besides, you‘re already dark. Too dark. We have to keep you out of the sun or you‘ll look like those poor farmers,‖ my mother would say. This was the same reason I never learned how to ride a bike. But when she wasn‘t home and the nannies were glued to the screen watching a telenovela, I walked out to the terrace and let the wind—which carried the little brown birds hovering over the paddy—blow my hair, whisk my skirt up, and sway me. On the terrace, I heard the ancient church bells of the convent next door, where the nuns prayed the rosary and sang the Hail Mary in unison. Hail Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with Thee. Blessed art Thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of Thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Then a full, long, resounding in-unison high contralto: Aaaaaah-mmmehnnn. Papa adored their singing and rewarded them with regular rations of rice. Their hymns and invocations became my background music; they were the accompaniment to the stages of life in the mansion—the soundtrack to my preschool, grade school, and preteen years. The nuns created for me a holy atmosphere, a sheltering sound where I could abide. Wherever I was, as long as I could hear them, I had somewhere to hide. My father made his money in the dining hall. He had an office, yes, but that served as storage for typewriters, contracts, blueprints, and ledgers. The real work took place where we ate, where he and his kumpares feasted over coconut crab, lobster, and bouillabaisse. The oval dining table seated at least twelve—where my father made eleven other oil investors and manpower recruiters richer. Not that their houses in Hong Kong, Dubai, and Singapore weren‘t large enough. The oil and manpower recruitment industries were stable and booming. The men were merely bored. So when the Gulf War started, they were all shaken off their thrones. The oval table had no corners for them to hold on to. ―What‘s a meal without a drink?‖ my parents would say. That‘s what the bar was for. Not a trolley with an ice bucket, but our own taproom playing Christopher Cross and Spandau Ballet. What my parents lacked in musical knowledge, they made up for in their collection of beer, wine, and Rémy Martin. I never told them, but my brother occasionally stole San Miguel beer from the cooler. I, on the other hand, was always good. I only asked the bartender for Shirley Temples. I drank them on the barstool in my crinoline Marks & Spencer dress, my yaya holding me so I wouldn‘t fall. She often gossiped to the bartender about our family. Si Misis nanglalalake, si Ser wala nang pera. The missus cheats on her husband; the mister has no more money. I always heard what she said and, worse, I understood. https://theculturetrip.com/asia/philippines/articles/read-an -excerpt-of-monsoon-mansion-a-memoir-of-achildhood-in-a-philippine-mansion/?fbclid=IwAR2rkXZeO_lADSUw7hSB9rp2ae0UEzyMzquYuPrRszNY18vwZ4hIskaaVs

Property of Pampanga High School – DepEd Division of City of San Fernando Pampanga

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TEXT#2 Nick Joaquin is a poet, fictionist, essayist, biographer, playwright, and National Artist, decided to quit after three years of secondary education at the Mapa High School. Classroom work simply bored him. He thought his teachers didn't know enough. He discovered that he could learn more by reading books on his own, and his father's library had many of the books he cared to read. He read all the fiction he could lay his hands on, plus the lives of saints, medieval and ancient history, the poems of Walter de la Mare and Ruben Dario. He knew his Bible from Genesis to Revelations. Of him actress-professor Sarah K. Joaquin once wrote: "Nick is so modest, so humble, so unassuming his chief fault is his rabid and insane love for books. He likes long walks and wornout shoes. Before Intramuros was burned down, he used to make the rounds of the churches when he did not have anything to do or any place to go. Except when his work interferes, he receives daily communion." He doesn't like fish, sports, and dressing up. He is a bookworm with a gift of total recall. He was born "at about 6:00 a.m." in Paco, Manila, on 04 May 1917. The moment he emerged from his mother's womb, the baby Nicomedes --or Onching, to his kin--made a "big howling noise" to announce his arrival. That noise still characterizes his arrival at literary soirees. He started writing short stories, poems, and essays in 1934. Many of them were published in Manila magazines, and a few found their way into foreign journals. His essay La Naval de Manila (1943) won in a contest sponsored by the Dominicans whose university, the UST, awarded him an A.A. (Associate in Arts) certificate on the strength of his literary talents. The Dominicans also offered him a two-year scholarship to the Albert College in Hong Kong, and he accepted. Unable to follow the rigid rules imposed upon those studying for the priesthood; however, he left the seminary in 1950. Joaquín died of cardiac arrest in the early morning of April 29, 2004. https://www.britannica.com/biography/Nick-Joaquin

ACTIVITY #2: TEXT COMPARISON Directions: Answer the following questions based on the sample texts. Who is narrating the story?

What does the What is common narrator tell us in the among the given given text? texts?

TEXT #1 TEXT #2 Take note of your answers as we go through the discussion. D. Discussing New Concepts and Skills #1 The sample texts you‘ve read are categorized as literary genres of Creative nonfiction. Creative nonfiction is a form of prose based mainly on facts rather than on imagination, although (it) may contain fictional elements.



Let us know more about the literary genres of creative nonfiction. Lesson 1: Life Stories •

There is wide variety of autobiographical narratives ranging from ―intimate writings made during life that were not necessarily intended for publication including letters, journals, diaries, memoirs, etc.)

In this lesson, we will study three ways on how one‘s life can be told: as a memoir, biography or autobiography. If you write about your life, it is either a memoir or autobiography. If someone else has written about your life, it is biography. Property of Pampanga High School – DepEd Division of City of San Fernando Pampanga

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Let us study each genre of writing life story. 1. Memoir – A partial story of the author‟s life It is a French word for “memory”. To write a memoir is to write what you remember. In a memoir, you become the narrator and the main character. You are the central force of the life story as you recount what happened in the past and what it means to you in the ‘now ‘. In a memoir you assume the first-person point of view. You are the ―I‖ . A memoir is deeply rooted in one‘s personal experience. What is the difference between memoir and autobiography? If your life is a cake, wherein the cake represents your entire life, memoir is only a slice of cake. As with a cake, you can cut your life into more slice coming up with several memoirs. 2. Autobiography – The complete story of the authors life it is a combination of three Greek words: autos (self), bios (life) and graphe (writing). Simply defined, autobiography spans the life of the writer from birth to present. One‘s life story is, or of course, a private, affair, why write it for others to read? When you read an autobiographical work, you become intimately acquainted with an entirely new person. This person could be someone famous, a wellknown figure whom you wish to know more about. 3. Biography – A life story by another writer If you can‘t write your own life story, you ask someone else to do it. This means allowing the person to ask you a lot of things about your life and answering them honestly.

E. Discussing New Concepts and Skills #1 As mentioned in section D of the lesson for today, a person can write about his or her experiences. In line with this, let us explore another genre of nonfiction which uses personal experience in writing – Travel writing/travelogue. Travel Writing is a form of creative nonfiction that describes the narrator‘s experiences in foreign place. This type of writing usually includes a narration of the journey undertaken by the narrator from his or her point of origin to the eventual destination, with all the hazards and inconveniences encountered along the way. It also entails detailed descriptions of the local customs and traditions, the landscape or city scape, the native cuisine, the historical and cultural landmarks, and the sights and sounds visited place has to offer. To be a successful travel writer, an author must not be afraid to explore new places and discover what they have to offer. To successfully recreate his or her own travel experience for the intended readers, the travel writer must hone his or her five senses and vocabulary to accurately describe what he/she has seen, heard, smelled tasted and touched. To make is or her own travelogue interesting, the writer must transform the journey that has been undertaken into a coherent narrative by weaving in to the article a personal anecdote or two.

Property of Pampanga High School – DepEd Division of City of San Fernando Pampanga...


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