Personal Narrative Prewriting

People/Places/Events:
1. Supernatural- My room, school, frank's house
2. Camp Northwoods- Tent, paying campground, drunk people island
3. Driving for the first time- Target parking lot, go-kart track, road from school to home
4. Misha Collins- My room, school, slushie machine
5. Karate Dojo- Dojo, backyard where I practice, drama where I gave mini-lessons

Beginnings:
3. I turned my head to my dad, and quirked a questioning brow. "You didn't tell me we needed to stop at Target."
He shifted our clunky, grey SUV into park for what must have been the millionth time in his life. A grin fought its way through his usually stoic compusure. "Wanna drive?" he suddenly asked.
Dozens of responses came to mind at once, riding a wave of shock. There were plenty of things I could have said to him. Dad, are you crazy? Dad, I don't even have my permit yet. Dad, I really don't want to, that sounds scary. Dad, don't you think my first time driving should be in a remote location, and not in a busy parking lot flooded with pedestrians? I had plenty of choices, but I settled on an eloquent, "Umm... Okay."
5. When the phrase "martial arts" is used, a typical person's thoughts might go straight to Samurai Jack, an ancient Chinese temple on the peak of a tall, misty mountain, or bad kung-fu movies. Many people see martial arts as they've been commercialized- violent, and quick to learn if you have a musical training montauge. But, to those who practice a type of martial art regularly, there's a much deeper meaning than that. I practice karate. It's no cakewalk. Dedication and perserverance are as necessary as arms and legs (I always used this analogy around my first karate instructor, who had a prosthetic leg) Like any other art form, martial arts gives the student confidence, a sense of a job well done, and is excellent for relieving stress. The ability to floor a man twice your size is just a nice bonus.

Settings:
3. It was a Target parking lot at six in the afternoon. There was nothing special about it, I'm sure you can imagine it yourself. The parking lot was about half full, the sun had just set, the mood was meloncholy with a side of I-want-to-go-home-but-first-I-have-to-get-groceries. For every car that departed the parking lot, another lazily rolled in, keeping a constant stream of customers filing in and out of the large automatic doors. Miscillaneous car horns and distressed children made themselves heard from every corner of the property.
5. The dojo was lit up bright with the same kind of flourescents you'd see in a school. Mirrors lined the east and west walls, reflecting everything in the room back at you like a spacious funhouse. Neatly stacked shields rested in the corner, and a cabinet overflowed with hand and foot guards. As I stepped onto the practice mat, my bare feet sunk into the soft material. In the classroom, the black belt class was just ending. The students spun through the air, kicking in unison, like synchronised swimmers performing in midair. They landed in a stance I'm not skilled enough to learn yet- and wow, that must hurt their ankles- and finished off their group form with a bow. I smiled, feeling inspired and proud of my classmates.