Where I Begunne!

1. Genre
This is a lyrical sonnet, presented in rhyming, parallel stanzas. It depicts the speaker's words or thoughts as directed to a close friend or lover, using metaphor and simile to convey a message of comfort amidst loss and parting. "Such wilt thou be to me, who must Like th'other foot obliquely run;"
2. Speaker/Narrator
The speaker can be assumed to be John Donne, though the specific identity isn't as important as their relationship to the audience and their state of being, those being a very close friend or lover and close to death or other parting, respectively: "But we by a love, so much refin'd. That our selves know not what it is,"
3. Setting
The setting of this poem is not clear because it is not indicated in any way. It might possibly be presumed to be the speaker's deathbed, but might just as easily be at a writing desk in a ship's cabin many miles away from the audience.
4. Diction
This poem is notable for its prosaic metaphors, similes, and adjectives. Even though the metaphors, from "Moving of th'earth" to the continuing simile of two feet, are described with terms of grandness and scale, the diction of the poem as a whole feels wistful, almost sleepy. "So let us melt, and make no noise,"
5. Character
There are two characters involved in this poem, though not ever described: the speaker and the audience, both single people. Similes like "two feet" and words like "twin" strongly imply that the two characters are very close, a pair of some sort, likely lovers. The speaker, soon to be parted from the audience by death or something else, is urging or wishing for the audience not to mourn his loss. "Though I must goe, endure not yet A breach, but an expansion,"
6. Audience
As with the sonnet addressed to death, the speaker's message is delivered with support and examples, almost like an argument, so it strongly feels like an argument meant to convince the audience to his position. In this case, convincing the audience not to mourn his loss but to look forward to the next meeting, implying the audience currently feels otherwise, being depressed at the oncoming parting. "No teare-floods, nor sigh-tempests move,"
7. Tone
Through language like "melt" and "Dull sublunary" and abundant commas, inverted phrases and short lists, the poem feels restful and almost floats along, while numerous imperative phrases, both to the audience and in similes, reinforce the persuasive tone. "Care lesse, eyes, lips, and hands to misse."
8. Metaphor
The points of the speaker's "argument" are presented mostly through simile and metaphor, such as comparing the perceived greatness and actual impact of great events ("Moving of th'earth") with those of humanly worries and fears ("trepidation of the spheares"), and especially comparing the two characters to a pair of feet, where one foot leaves while the other stays planted, then moves to rejoin its companion.
9. Visual Design
As a sonnet, the poem is divided into nine stanzas of four lines each, rhyming loosely in an ABAB pattern by line. Each stanza generally consists of two contrasting or complementing ideas that together form a standalone point in the larger argument, and the ideas can be divided in several different ways within the stanza.
10. Plot
While the poem doesn't describe a sequence of events, it does continue from one theme to another: it starts by discussing opinions and fears shared by all of humanity related to death, then transitions to a description of the speaker's relationship with the audience and how the two ideas relate, ending on a sweet farewell. "Thy firmness drawes my circle just, And makes me end, where I begunne."

Under the Desk

I'm pretty confident in saying that I read more words in public school than I spoke. In elementary school I spent nearly all of my free time in the school or the public library just reading books. I checked fiction out to read at home, but I squeezed as much time as I could at the library reading nonfiction or comic books. I would stay up late into the night trying to read by the light of a nightlight, and at school I would always have a big book or two in my desk, and I was often scolded by the teacher for reading in class.

I grew up reading. Meaning that I grew up watching my parents read and finding books of my own to love. Scholastic catalogs were my favorite part of the school year, and I have fond memories of swapping recommendations with classmates and salivating over all the books I wouldn't be able to order.

This is the top half of my bookshelf in the apartment I live in now. It's not very impressive at all, but the few books on those shelves are my absolute favorites that I made room for in my luggage to fly from Wisconsin. I've reread each of them anywhere from three times to more than I can remember. I didn't bring them with me with any real intent to read them again, but I didn't want to leave them behind.

I think that feeling traces back to growing up around my dad's bookshelves. He always had dozens of grown-up-looking books in his office, but I never actually saw him reading them. But whenever I asked about one, he would tell me why he owned it and what he liked and disliked about it. A lot of these books I own today are actually from his old collection, that I made my own as I grew up.

These books sit on my shelf more as a display of my love for them than as waiting to be taken down and read, but that's because I'm always reading new books.

I used to reread over and over again, and I'm still not really sure why. Eventually I had to move away from the books I knew to go to college for the first time, and I went out and found new ones. I read so much that at one point in my Freshman year I actually skipped a couple classes - even though I was already on campus - just to pull out a book and read the next chapter.

I think I've learned a little more self control since then. Now I read on my phone whenever I have a minute or two to do nothing but wait. But still, when I visited my family last summer, I had to bring back my favorites with me.

And then I discovered writing. I found websites and forums where I could share my own opinions and reviews and participate in writing competitions. I found new favorite stories and learned to make my own. For me, having a literary life means always looking forward to another new world, always having an eye open and an ear turned to the depths of human imagination and never saying you've seen enough, and finding joy in storytelling no matter how many times you've heard the story before.

Literature has always been an unnoticed undercurrent in my life, and until recently I never thought a life focused on it was realistic. But now that I've learned more about it and experienced it for myself, I'm not afraid of that commitment. It only makes me excited.