Beowulf for Dummnies

Beowulf for Dummies

Beowulf begins with a history of the great Danish King Scyld (whose funeral is described in the Prologue). King Hrothgar, Scyld's great-grandson, is well loved by his people and successful in war. He builds a lavish hall, called Heorot, to house his vast army, and when the hall is finished, the Danish warriors gather under its roof to celebrate.

Grendel, a monster who lives at the bottom of a nearby mere, is provoked by the singing and celebrating of Hrothgar's followers. He appears at the hall late one night and kills thirty of the warriors in their sleep. For the next twelve years, the fear of Grendel's fury casts a shadow over the lives of the Danes. Hrothgar and his advisors can think of nothing to calm the monster's anger.

Beowulf, prince of the Geats, hears about Hrothgar's troubles, gathers fourteen of the bravest Geat warriors, and sets sail from his home in southern Sweden. The Geats are greeted by the members of Hrothgar's court, and Beowulf boasts to the king of his previous successes as a warrior, particularly his success in fighting sea monsters. Hrothgar welcomes the arrival of the Geats, hoping that Beowulf will live up to his reputation. During the banquet that follows Beowulf's arrival, Unferth, a Danish thane, voices doubt about Beowulf's past accomplishments, and Beowulf, in return, accuses Unferth of killing his brothers. Before the night ends, Hrothgar promises Beowulf great treasures if he meets with success against the monster.

Grendel appears on the night of the Geats' arrival at Heorot. Beowulf, true to his word, wrestles the monster barehanded.Click here to see the fight! He tears off the monster's arm at the shoulder, but Grendel escapes, only to die soon afterward at the bottom of his snake-infested mere. The Danish warriors, who have fled the hall in fear, return singing songs in praise of Beowulf's triumph. Hrothgar rewards Beowulf with a great store of treasures. After another banquet, the warriors of both the Geats and the Danes retire for the night.

Unknown to the warriors, however, Grendel's mother is plotting revenge (see "Grendel's Mother's Attack"). She arrives at the hall when all the warriors are sleeping and carries off Aeschere, Hrothgar's chief advisor along with her son's claw. (Click here to see the infamous claw!) Beowulf offers to dive to the bottom of the lake, find the monster and destroy her. He and his men follow the monster's tracks to the cliff overlooking the lake where Grendel's mother lives. They see Aeschere's bloody head sitting on the cliff. While preparing for battle, Beowulf asks Hrothgar to protect his warriors, and to send his treasures to his uncle, King Hygelac, if he doesn't return safely.

Before Beowulf goes into the sea, Unferth offers him his sword, Hrunting. During the ensuing battle Grendel's mother carries Beowulf to her underwater home. After a terrible fight, Beowulf kills the monster with a magical sword, probably put there by the Al-Weilder, that he finds on the wall of her home. He also finds Grendel's dead body, cuts off the head, and returns to land, where the Geat and Danish warriors are waiting expectantly. Beowulf has now abolished the race of evil monsters.

The warriors return to Hrothgar's court, where the Danes and Geats prepare a feast in celebration of the death of the monsters. Beowulf bids farewell to Hrothgar and tells the old king that if the Danes ever again need help he will gladly come to their assistance. Hrothgar presents Beowulf with more treasures, and they embrace, emotionally, like father and son.

The Geats sail home. After recounting the story of his battles with Grendel and Grendel's mother, Beowulf tells King Hygelac about the feud between Denmark and their enemies, the Heatho-bards. He describes the proposed peace settlement, in which Hrothgar will give his daughter Freawaru to Ingeld, king of the Heatho-bards, but predicts that the peace will not last long. Hygelac rewards Beowulf for his bravery with land, swords, and houses.

The meeting between Hygelac and Beowulf marks the end of the first part of the poem. In the next part, Hygelac is dead, and Beowulf has been king of the Geats for fifty years. A thief steals a jeweled cup from a sleeping dragon who avenges his loss by flying through the night burning down houses, including Beowulf's own hall and throne. Beowulf goes to the cave where the dragon lives, vowing to destroy it single-handedly. He's an old man now, and he is not as strong as he was when he fought Grendel. During the battle Beowulf breaks his sword against the dragon's side; the dragon, enraged, engulfs Beowulf in flames and wounds him in the neck. All of Beowulf's followers flee except Wiglaf, who rushes through the flames to assist the aging warrior. Wiglaf stabs the dragon with his sword, and Beowulf, in a final act of courage, cuts the dragon in half with his knife.

Yet the damage is done. Beowulf realizes that he's dying, that he has fought his last battle. He asks Wiglaf to bring him the dragon's storehouse of treasures; seeing the jewels and gold will make him feel that the effort has been worthwhile. He instructs Wiglaf to build a tomb to be known as "Beowulf's tower" on the edge of the sea. After Beowulf dies, Wiglaf admonishes the troops who deserted their leader when he was fighting against the dragon. He tells them that they have been untrue to the standards of bravery, courage, and loyalty that Beowulf has taught.

Wiglaf sends a messenger to a nearby camp of Geat soldiers with instructions to report the outcome of the battle. Wiglaf supervises the building of the funeral pyre. In keeping with Beowulf's instructions, the dragon's treasure is buried alongside Beowulf's ashes in the tomb. The poem ends as it began -- with the funeral of a great warrior.

Twilight

The Story Behind Twilight

I get a ton of questions about how I came up with the story of Twilight and how I got it published. I may be killing my FAQ page by doing this, but here is the whole story:

(Warning: there are Twilight spoilers contained in the following; if you don't want to ruin the suspense, stop reading.....now. Warning #2: As you might have guessed from the length of my book, I can't tell a short story—this is going to take a while. You have been warned.)

The Writing: I know the exact date that I began writing Twilight, because it was also the first day of swim lessons for my kids. So I can say with certainty that it all started on June 2, 2003. Up to this point, I had not written anything besides a few chapters (of other stories) that I never got very far on, and nothing at all since the birth of my first son, six years earlier.

I woke up (on that June 2nd) from a very vivid dream. In my dream, two people were having an intense conversation in a meadow in the woods. One of these people was just your average girl. The other person was fantastically beautiful, sparkly, and a vampire. They were discussing the difficulties inherent in the facts that A) they were falling in love with each other while B) the vampire was particularly attracted to the scent of her blood, and was having a difficult time restraining himself from killing her immediately. For what is essentially a transcript of my dream, please see Chapter 13 ("Confessions") of the book.

Though I had a million things to do (i.e. making breakfast for hungry children, dressing and changing the diapers of said children, finding the swimsuits that no one ever puts away in the right place, etc.), I stayed in bed, thinking about the dream. I was so intrigued by the nameless couple's story that I hated the idea of forgetting it; it was the kind of dream that makes you want to call your friend and bore her with a detailed description. (Also, the vampire was just so darned good-looking, that I didn't want to lose the mental image.) Unwillingly, I eventually got up and did the immediate necessities, and then put everything that I possibly could on the back burner and sat down at the computer to write—something I hadn't done in so long that I wondered why I was bothering. But I didn't want to lose the dream, so I typed out as much as I could remember, calling the characters "he" and "she."

From that point on, not one day passed that I did not write something. On bad days, I would only type out a page or two; on good days, I would finish a chapter and then some. I mostly wrote at night, after the kids were asleep so that I could concentrate for longer than five minutes without being interrupted. I started from the scene in the meadow and wrote through to the end. Then I went back to the beginning and wrote until the pieces matched up. I drove the "golden spike" that connected them in late August, three months later.

It took me a while to find names for my anonymous duo. For my vampire (who I was in love with from day one) I decided to use a name that had once been considered romantic, but had fallen out of popularity for decades. Charlotte Bronte's Mr. Rochester and Jane Austen's Mr. Ferrars were the characters that led me to the name Edward. I tried it on for size, and found that it fit well. My female lead was harder. Nothing I named her seemed just right. After spending so much time with her, I loved her like a daughter, and no name was good enough. Finally, inspired by that love, I gave her the name I was saving for my daughter, who had never shown up and was unlikely to put in an appearance at this point: Isabella. Huzzah! Edward and Bella were named. For the rest of the characters, I did a lot of searching in old census records, looking for popular names in the times that they'd been born. Some trivia: Rosalie was originally "Carol" and Jasper was first "Ronald." I like the new names much better, but every now and then I will slip up and type Carol or Ron by accident. It really confuses the people who read my rough drafts.

For my setting, I knew I needed someplace ridiculously rainy. I turned to Google, as I do for all my research needs, and looked for the place with the most rainfall in the U.S. This turned out to be the Olympic Peninsula in Washington State. I pulled up maps of the area and studied them, looking for something small, out of the way, surrounded by forest... And there, right where I wanted it to be, was a tiny town called "Forks." It couldn't have been more perfect if I had named it myself. I did a Google image search on the area, and if the name hadn't sold me, the gorgeous photographs would have done the trick. (Images like these of the Hoh Rainforest (a short drive from Forks). Also see forks-web.com ). In researching Forks, I discovered the La Push Reservation, home to the Quileute Tribe. The Quileute story is fascinating, and a few fictional members of the tribe quickly became intrinsic to my story.

All this time, Bella and Edward were, quite literally, voices in my head. They simply wouldn't shut up. I'd stay up as late as I could stand trying to get all the stuff in my mind typed out, and then crawl, exhausted, into bed (my baby still wasn't sleeping through the night, yet) only to have another conversation start in my head. I hated to lose anything by forgetting, so I'd get up and head back down to the computer. Eventually, I got a pen and notebook for beside my bed to jot notes down so I could get some freakin' sleep. It was always an exciting challenge in the morning to try to decipher the stuff I'd scrawled across the page in the dark.

During the day, I couldn't stay away from the computer, either. When I was stuck at swim lessons, out in 115 degrees of Phoenix sunshine, I would plot and scheme and come home with so much new stuff that I couldn't type fast enough. It was your typical Arizona summer, hot, sunny, hot, and hot, but when I think back to those three months, I remember rain and cool green things, like I really spent the summer in the Olympic Rainforest.

When I'd finished the body of the novel, I started writing epilogues...lots of epilogues. This eventually clued me in to the fact that I wasn't ready to let go of my characters, and I started working on the sequel. Meanwhile, I continued to edit Twilight in a very obsessive-compulsive way.

My older sister, Emily, was the only one who really knew what I was up to. In June, I'd started sending her chapters as I finished them, and she soon became my cheerleading section. She was always checking in to see if I had something new for her. It was Emily who first suggested, after I'd finished, that I should try to get Twilight published. I was so stunned by the fact that I'd actually finished a whole, entire book, that I decided to look into it.

Getting Published: To put it mildly, I was naive about publishing. I thought it worked like this: you printed a copy of your novel, wrapped it up in brown paper, and sent it off to a publishing house. Ho ho ho, that's a good one. I started googling (naturally) and began to discover that this was not the way it is done. (Movies lie to us! Why?! A side note: you will not be able to enjoy the new Steve Martin version of Cheaper by the Dozen when you know how insanely impossible the publishing scenario it contains is.) The whole set up with query letters, literary agents, simultaneous submissions vs. exclusive submissions, synopsizes, etc., was extremely intimidating, and I almost quit there. It certainly wasn't belief in my fabulous talent that made me push forward; I think it was just that I loved my characters so much, and they were so real to me, that I wanted other people to know them, too.

I subscribed to WritersMarket.com and compiled a list of small publishers that accepted unsolicited submissions and a few literary agencies. It was around this time that my little sister, Heidi, mentioned Janet Evanovich's website to me. In her Q and A for writers section, Janet E. mentioned Writers House, among a few others, as "the real thing" in the world of literary agencies. Writers House went on my wish list as the most desirable and also least likely.

I sent out around fifteen queries (and I still get residual butterflies in my stomach when I drive by the mailbox I sent the letters from—mailing them was terrifying.). I will state, for the record, that my queries truly sucked, and I don't blame anyone who sent me a rejection (I did get seven or eight of those. I still have them all, too). The only rejection that really hurt was from a small agent who actually read the first chapter before she dropped the axe on me. The meanest rejection I got came after Little, Brown had picked me up for a three-book deal, so it didn't bother me at all. I'll admit that I considered sending back a copy of that rejection stapled to the write-up my deal got in Publisher's Weekly, but I took the higher road.

My big break came in the form of an assistant at Writers House named Genevieve. I didn't find out until much later just how lucky I was; it turns out that Gen didn't know that 130,000 words is a whole heck of a lot of words. If she'd known that 130K words would equal 500 pages, she probably wouldn't have asked to see it. But she didn't know (picture me wiping the sweat from my brow), and she did ask for the first three chapters. I was thrilled to get a positive response, but a little worried because I felt the beginning of the book wasn't the strongest part. I mailed off those three chapters and got a letter back a few weeks later (I could barely get it open, my hands were so weak with fear). It was a very nice letter. She'd gone back with a pen and twice underlined the part where she'd typed how much she enjoyed the first three chapters (I still have that letter, of course), and she asked for the whole manuscript. That was the exact moment when I realized that I might actually see Twilight in print, and really one of the happiest points in my whole life. I did a lot of screaming.

About a month after I sent in the manuscript, I got a call from Jodi Reamer, an honest to goodness literary agent, who wanted to represent my book. I tried really hard to sound like a professional and a grownup during that conversation, but I'm not sure if I fooled her. Again, my luck was tremendous (and I don't usually have good luck—I've never won anything in my life, and no one ever catches a fish when I'm in the boat) because Jodi is the uber-agent. I couldn't have ended up in better hands. She's part lawyer, part ninja (she's working on earning her black belt right now, no kidding), a pretty amazing editor in her own right, and a great friend.

Jodi and I worked for two weeks on getting Twilight into shape before sending it to editors. The first thing we worked on was the title, which started out as Forks (and I still have a teeny soft spot for that name). Then we polished up a few rough spots, and Jodi sent it out to nine different publishing houses. This really messed with my ability to sleep, but luckily I wasn't in suspense for long.

Megan Tingley, of Megan Tingley Books, of Little, Brown and Company, read Twilight on a cross-country flight and came back to Jodi the day after the Thanksgiving weekend with a preemptive deal so huge that I honestly thought Jodi was pulling my leg—especially the part where she turned the offer down and asked for more. The upshot was that, by the end of the day, I was trying to process the information that not only was my book going to be published by one of the biggest young adult publishers in the country, but that they were going to pay me for it. For a very long time, I was convinced it was a really cruel practical joke, but I couldn't imagine who would go to these wild extremes to play a hoax on such an insignificant little hausfrau.

And that's how, in the course of six months, Twilight was dreamed, written, and accepted for publication.

Things keep getting crazier, what with the movie deal and all the pre-publication attention that Twilight continues to receive. Though I've gotten impatient from time to time, I'm glad I've had the last two years to try to come to terms with the situation. I'm greatly looking forward to finally having Twilight on the shelves, and more than a little frightened, too. Overall, it's been a true labor of love, love for Edward and Bella and all the rest of my imaginary friends, and I'm thrilled that other people get to meet them now.

Dead on Arrival

Here I am again, sitting all by myself, wondering and lonely, waiting for your almost everyday. In the everyday of my life I am doing this. Ah! Ah! I'm afraid. . . I count my fingers 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 still I miss you so much. It's almost four days now that I haven't seen you. I asked myself why I am here in this place. But still I can't answer my question. After long hours of waiting, I decided to walk around bowing my head until I raised my head and I was surprised when I reached our dating place. Still I couldn't forget moment we spent together. I could not forget those laughters, fun, the way we held each other's hand; the way your hair dances as the wind blew; and when it blew down and wrapped your face; when you ran to catch the butterflies and gently caught them and when you posed beside the flowers with a smile on your face.
After a moment of imagining and remembering everything I found myself crying. I can't hide to myself the pain that I felt inside. I tried myself to stop from crying but my tears poured very quickly that I can't hide anymore . I got my handkerchief which you have given me. I remembered it when we celebrated our first anniversary. It's almost a year and eleven months now since you gave it as your first gift. You were so surprised when I put a blind fold on your eyes and when you opened your eyes; you were so amazed of the beauty of the place. It was a place with lots of red and white balloons scattered all over the floor and most of all our theme song was played," That i'll always love you deep inside this heart of mine i do love you, that i'll always need you but if you ever change your mind i still will love you " the lyrics of the music.Then I whispered to you these words," You know how much I love you and I can't afford to lose you either my love...." I cried and my tears were just falling down from my eyes. After two years of having been together, we shared and encountered different trials and problems in our relationship that made us strong and remained to be faithful and respectful to each other.
I stopped myself from crying when I saw you. I hurriedly ran and hugged you tightly so that you can fell how much I miss tried listen again. After minutes of waiting I did not hear that voice again until I became engr0ssed in my sleep. I started to close my eyes when that particular voice sang again so very clear as if it was near me. I closed my eyes very hard and put my hands on my ears but the voice seemed louder and louder. I tried to the pillow over my head but i can't do it because I'm afraid to open my eyes. Suddenly the voice stopped and I found myself sleeping soundly.
I woke up at about one' clock in the morning . I looked at my cellphone when I had just receive a message. I smiled and whispered to my self "you made me smile everytime you texted me." I texted her back saying," Thank you for reminding me for helping me a lot , luv u t.c girl..."
I stood up from my bed and went to my study table and wrote my story. I forgot to remember the due date of our school paper. I was scratching my head and tried to figure out about the story that I will make when I suddenly heard the voice singing outside the window again. I felt afraid, nervous and my whole body was shaking. I turned on the lights witness the owner of that voice.
I opened the window and haven't seen anything except a white rose. I wondered where the voice came from. I closed the window and I put the rose on the flower vase and started to stare and touch its petals but the petals suddenly fall into my table. I picked them all, and put them on the note and started to write a story. Half hour, one hour has passed, I haven't written anything. I decided to go back to sleep again and tried to think the story i should write. I turn off the lights and jumped on my bed again .

I have just closed my eyes when my cellphone rang. I was not supposed to answer it because I was busy wondering until it just stopped ringing. I it also beeped for there was a massege, but i ignored it and suddenly heard the voice again. I listened very well and tried to figure out the voice. The voice sounded familiar but I can't hear it very well until I was pulled out by tiredness and I got easily slept.

It was already 8 o'clock in the morning when i woke up. I hurriedly got up from my bed when I realized that it was my due date in submitting my article. I was shocked when I saw my paper. It was already finished. I saw a little note beside the petals of the rose. I pulled it and I read the saying, "You forgot again...Hmmm...Don't be late next time and be able to remember your dues...I love u and I miss you a lot. I laid back the note on my table and picked up my cellphone. I read the message. I was shocked and I dropped my cellphone on the floor. It was my best friend. She was the one who sang last night and give the white rose which is her favorite flower. She made a very important thing in my life and she made my duty as a literary editor. I love you friend! you . We sat down and I asked you but you haven't answered me and kept ignoring me. I knew that you're mad at me after our long conversation that night. You left me and hurriedly rode on your car going home while it was running hard. I tried to stop you but I was afraid until I realized my fault.

You tried to walk again but I held your hands and you kept on crying. I hugged you and I apologized for everything that I did. Upon hugging you I can fell that something was wrong but still I kept on. Hurriedly you stood up and walked away. I ran next to you but I was shocked when I saw my name on the tombstone which read, "RIP Dave Meynard Santiago," Upon recalling everything I remembered that I was hit by a bus when I followed you after our conversation. That was the cause of my " Dead on Arrival."

Dead on Arrival

Education in the Modern Society

No one can ever imagine how modernization conquers the hearth of the earth that had greatly caused the variations of life resting of its lap. Nowadays, everything has its own modern names, modern versions, modern definitions and modern identities. If we are only aware of those variations, we could therefore enumerate some of them such as the modern technology, modern life, modern society, modern man and many others.
The exploitation of knowledge is considered to be the major cause of the sudden changes of the images and identities of everything in the life of every individual. From a humble of life where the human being is nurtured,comes the modern world. A barefooted, totally naked Adam and Eve that chose to disobey God, comes the modern man. The life that God bestowed to us had almost evolved differently from time to time; thus we have this modern life.
If we could only stop and look around, we will come to believed that education is influenced and transformed by this idea. The ocular transition results to what is termed now "modern education" which provides a leeway to modern educational system. It is committed to train students to become a modern individual by diverse learning content and learning experiences based from a standardized prospectus and guided by well trained modern teachers and professors.
In this regard, shall we accept everything to be modernized? Is it simply because to be modern is to be up to date, wherein we expect more and look up things on higher level or degree? In short we must bear in mind that to be modern is the acquisition of excellence qualities for our own good.
We have observed that some modern leaders do their share just to satisfy their selfish motive, but an ideal modern leader should possess good leadership qualities with clear vision and mission that aims for the development of certain goals.
It is good to live in this modern men who are physically, mentally and emotionally matured, consistent, flexible and above all God-fearing individuals.