It was my sister’s tenth birthday, and my mom was taking her and a few friends to the movies. I was not only allowed to go as well, but was allowed to bring friend of my own. It was a frigid day in the middle of January, and the renewing feeling of the New Year still hung in the air. My mom was always conscious of trying to save money, and although taking a small group of girls was generous, she did not want to spend a fortune on snack stand candies and drinks from the theatre. Being almost two years older I felt it was my duty to run into the nearby Wal-Mart and grab drinks and a bag of candy which we could sneak into our small purses. My mother dropped my friend and I off at Wal-Mart as she along with my sister and her friends all went to pick up the movie theatre tickets. My friend and I were instructed to wait outside of Wal-Mart until my mom came back for us. That’s at least what I heard her say. The movie was supposed to start at one o’clock and we had been waiting for ten minutes already when we noticed that it was1:05. We were cold and anxious to see the movie and the seven or so bottles of water in addition to the bags of candy were making our arms grow tired. My friend suggested that she thought she heard my mom say that we were supposed to meet her in the theatre. It made sense to me—after all, the movie had already started. We walked across the street and parking lot and as we reached the doors the intoxicating smell of popcorn and butter mixed with an intense feeling of warmth hit our bodies. We walked towards the room where the movie was being viewed and I thought I would be extra responsible, so I stopped and asked the ticket collector if a group of girls and one woman already went in before us, and if so if they mentioned that there were two more of us. He sort of nodded and waved me on, and my friend was already several steps ahead of me. We walked in and I tried to scour the full seats for the familiar faces we were supposed to be sitting with but it was too dark to make out people’s faces except for when they looked at us with annoyed face as we were disrupting their movie. We found two empty seats next to each other at the end of an aisle and sat down. I glanced around the room once more but couldn’t see very well, but tried to settle the strange pit my stomach that had appeared by reassuring myself that my mom was already in the theatre, sitting somewhere and wondering where her bottle of water was.
About halfway through the movie the lights in the theatre flashed on. The movie screen dimmed and the sound was covered by the audience’s murmurs and immediate complaints. I immediately knew why the lights had gone on, and as I slumped down in my seat and looked across the room to the door I saw a young ticket collector and my mom standing by the light switch. My mom’s face was beat red and her face as soaked with tears. Her eyes were wide and frantic, and I felt like I was going to throw up. I stood up quickly along with my friend who had a dopey expression on her face. She had a very sheltered life and held no concept of reality. She didn’t understand how worried my mom must have been, or how upset she was. But I knew. The movie theatre was completely full and everyone looked from my frantic mother, to us two young girls walking as quickly as we could. I felt my face turn bright red, and I felt a mixture of shame and embarrassment. I couldn’t look at my mom as I got closer to her. I didn’t know whether I was going to throw up, cry, or punch my friend in the face for having such a dumb look on her face. As I got closer to my mom she began to sob in front of our entire audience. She grabbed me by my jacket and harshly pulled me outside while she tried to regain control of herself. She yelled and cried the whole walk back to the Wal-Mart where my sister and her friends, and a handful of cops and concerned employees were waiting. I wanted to explain to everyone that it was truly a simple mistake, but instead I received many looks and comments that signified that I was a selfish brat. We were apparently missing for an hour and a half, and the cops were called and everything due to the longest “Code Amber” the store had ever witnessed. I later found out that my mom wasn’t able to get tickets for the 1:00 show, and so they were planning on going to a later show. I not only practically ruined my sister’s birthday, but was also unable to walk into that particular Wal-Mart and theatre for about a year.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
1st Class Critique
As I sat in my writing fiction class today I began to think of all of the mistake I might have made with my story that was about to be critiqued. I felt my stomach turn, and I immediately wished I would have left the dialogue out, or perhaps changed the entire story. As the comments began and continued however I felt my anxieties slip away. Most of the comments weren't exactly "positive" in that they praised my story, but I greatly appreciated that. The last thing I wanted was for people to lie to me. I got a lot of great feedback, and most of the comments answered several questions that popped into my mind as I was writing the piece. Instead of feeling discouraged and beaten, I rather felt refreshed. I'm excited for future drafts, and how I might learn to improve my writing.
Cliche Characters with a twist
Lillian the Librarian:
Lillian is a thirty-four year old single woman who spends every Monday through Friday as well as every Saturday morning in the Wellington Public Library where she works. Her poker straight brown hair is always pulled back tightly into a neat pony tail, as she prefers that her hair stays out of her face. From many years of reading her eyes had already grown weak, and she wore a cheap pair of wire framed glasses. Her eyes were green and almond shaped, and looked small behind her round wire glasses. She is tall and very thin, and wears a grey pencil-skirt and blazer everyday as she finds gray colored clothing the most practical. She lives by herself, and when she isn’t in the library, she is at her small one bedroom apartment. She has a nasal sounding voice and the most used word in her vocabulary is a harsh “Shhh!” Her pale skin and gray suits make her look like a dreary charcoal painting. Her nights are spent however in flashy and skimpy clothing as she works two towns over as a prostitute.
Buck the Bodybuilder:
Buck the Bodybuilder eats a strict diet of raw eggs, bright green vegetables pureed, and a great deal of protein. He is about six feet tall and weighs 250lbs of pure muscle. He has soft brown hair, dazzling white teeth, and sparkling blue eyes. He spends seven hours a day, seven days a week at the gym. When he is not working out at the gym, he is either participating in his classes at college, working as a part-time coach for younger kid, or starring as the quarter back of his school’s football team. Every girl that has ever brushed past Buck has experienced love at first sight. His positive personality is displayed as he flashes every awestruck girl with his bright smile and a sly wink of his eye. He also has a 3.9 GPA and is attending his school on a full scholarship. As confident as he appears, he often goes home and struggles with the secret that he is gay.
Randy the Redneck:
Randy is sixty-four years old, lives by himself in a small trailer in northern New York. He does not have running water and the electric only partially works, but he prefers things this way. His only companion is his old mutt dog named “dog”. His wife left him years ago, and his kids no longer talk to him. He spends his afternoons making moon shine, and his nights drinking it. He is short and stocky in stature, and his gray hair is balding to reveal the shiny part of the top of his head. He doesn’t own a computer, and drives a pick up truck that won’t work when the temperatures go below 10 degrees. He wears the same flannel red and black shirt every day with a worn and faded pair of blue jean overalls. He acquires his own food by hunting and gardening, and hasn’t been inside a store for nearly two years. Years ago he graduated from his college as a neuroscientist.
Charity the Cheerleader:
Charity is 5’ 3” with a tiny waist, think shapely arms and legs, and large breasts that hypnotize all of the boys both young and old with her cheer moves. Her long, platinum, blonde hair hangs past her lower back, but is often tied back in a bouncy ponytail. She has naturally rosy cheeks, cherry colored lips, and big brown eyes. She is the head cheerleader of her squad, and she dates the MVP football player. Her weekends are always busy—not with friends and school functions—but with long visits to the local hospital where she receives treatment for leukemia.
Pete the Pastor:
Pete graduated from a strict Christian university where he met his beautiful wife. They married and had three children, and Pete serves as a very religious pastor at their local church in town. They go to church every week and they have never missed a week. Pete and his wife do not allow their children to play with other “non-Christian” children, and their children are homeschooled as to avoid the “sinner’s world”. They prayer before every meal together which Pete’s wife prepares for the family as he believes that a woman’s place according to the bible is at the home to cook and clean for her husband and children. Pete believes everything the bible has to say, and spends a lot of time with missions work. Pete spends a lot of time in his office at the church where, unknown to everyone around him, he shoots up with heroine.
Lillian is a thirty-four year old single woman who spends every Monday through Friday as well as every Saturday morning in the Wellington Public Library where she works. Her poker straight brown hair is always pulled back tightly into a neat pony tail, as she prefers that her hair stays out of her face. From many years of reading her eyes had already grown weak, and she wore a cheap pair of wire framed glasses. Her eyes were green and almond shaped, and looked small behind her round wire glasses. She is tall and very thin, and wears a grey pencil-skirt and blazer everyday as she finds gray colored clothing the most practical. She lives by herself, and when she isn’t in the library, she is at her small one bedroom apartment. She has a nasal sounding voice and the most used word in her vocabulary is a harsh “Shhh!” Her pale skin and gray suits make her look like a dreary charcoal painting. Her nights are spent however in flashy and skimpy clothing as she works two towns over as a prostitute.
Buck the Bodybuilder:
Buck the Bodybuilder eats a strict diet of raw eggs, bright green vegetables pureed, and a great deal of protein. He is about six feet tall and weighs 250lbs of pure muscle. He has soft brown hair, dazzling white teeth, and sparkling blue eyes. He spends seven hours a day, seven days a week at the gym. When he is not working out at the gym, he is either participating in his classes at college, working as a part-time coach for younger kid, or starring as the quarter back of his school’s football team. Every girl that has ever brushed past Buck has experienced love at first sight. His positive personality is displayed as he flashes every awestruck girl with his bright smile and a sly wink of his eye. He also has a 3.9 GPA and is attending his school on a full scholarship. As confident as he appears, he often goes home and struggles with the secret that he is gay.
Randy the Redneck:
Randy is sixty-four years old, lives by himself in a small trailer in northern New York. He does not have running water and the electric only partially works, but he prefers things this way. His only companion is his old mutt dog named “dog”. His wife left him years ago, and his kids no longer talk to him. He spends his afternoons making moon shine, and his nights drinking it. He is short and stocky in stature, and his gray hair is balding to reveal the shiny part of the top of his head. He doesn’t own a computer, and drives a pick up truck that won’t work when the temperatures go below 10 degrees. He wears the same flannel red and black shirt every day with a worn and faded pair of blue jean overalls. He acquires his own food by hunting and gardening, and hasn’t been inside a store for nearly two years. Years ago he graduated from his college as a neuroscientist.
Charity the Cheerleader:
Charity is 5’ 3” with a tiny waist, think shapely arms and legs, and large breasts that hypnotize all of the boys both young and old with her cheer moves. Her long, platinum, blonde hair hangs past her lower back, but is often tied back in a bouncy ponytail. She has naturally rosy cheeks, cherry colored lips, and big brown eyes. She is the head cheerleader of her squad, and she dates the MVP football player. Her weekends are always busy—not with friends and school functions—but with long visits to the local hospital where she receives treatment for leukemia.
Pete the Pastor:
Pete graduated from a strict Christian university where he met his beautiful wife. They married and had three children, and Pete serves as a very religious pastor at their local church in town. They go to church every week and they have never missed a week. Pete and his wife do not allow their children to play with other “non-Christian” children, and their children are homeschooled as to avoid the “sinner’s world”. They prayer before every meal together which Pete’s wife prepares for the family as he believes that a woman’s place according to the bible is at the home to cook and clean for her husband and children. Pete believes everything the bible has to say, and spends a lot of time with missions work. Pete spends a lot of time in his office at the church where, unknown to everyone around him, he shoots up with heroine.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Desrcription: Washington, NJ
Nicole Smith
February 9, 2009
Writing: Fiction
Town Description
The town of Washington has rarely been heard of. In fact, the county it resides in known as Warren County is not even well known in the popular state of New Jersey. The town is small and quiet, but most that live there never seem to leave. Not many like the town of Washington, yet even those who leave seem to come back. Most do not make it through high school, and even fewer make it through college. Half a mile of old stores and shops line both sides of the street that is considered “down town”. Many live in apartments and collect welfare, and their children run around town with runny noses and dirty jackets.
The town generally smells of cow manure and garbage, but on occasions the smell of a new season will carry through the air. For example, the first few cold days of winter most light the fireplaces in their homes and the sweet smell of burnt wood intoxicates the bitter air. Other than the small stretch of “down town” there exists a few elementary schools, and a regional high school that has been growing in size for the past several years since many development homes have been built over old farming fields. Nothing ever happens in the town I grew up in, and no one ever expects anything to happen. One event last spring however created one of the town’s biggest recognition in the news for the first time in years, and began rumors and gossip that still get around today.
One of the stores in town was an old store that had been the town’s hardware store since the earlier 1900s. A few years ago the old man who owned the store sold it to someone who turned it into an antique shop where people would both sell and buy antiques. The reality was that the antique store was an eyesore and made the town look even more run down than it had before. The building sat on a corner in between a parking lot and a branch of smaller stores. It was made of wood which was beginning to rot, and the numerous coats of white paint were dirty and chipped from years of neglect. Several pieces of antiques overcrowded the inside of the store and spilled out onto the curb. No one wanted someone else’s old junk, and even if they did, they probably didn’t have the money.
The town began renovations in the winter of 2007 in hopes of creating a more ascetically pleasing town. The need for business and money was dire, and this was also among the reasons for the renovations. One cold night in the beginning of spring 2008 every person in Washington heard the scream of sirens and fire trucks race to the old hardware store. The store was completely engulfed in flames, and within a few moments the entire town was coming out of their homes, warming their hands by the large fire, and catching up with each other. It was a funny sight to see the entire town of people huddling around the burning building, and having an excuse to talk to each other. The firemen worked around the people, and the crowd remained well into the early hours of the morning.
The next day the building was completely gone and the smell of burnt wood still hung in the air. A black charred pile of wood and what were once antiques lay scattered on the ground, and yellow police tape encased the area. Everyone was talking about the incident, and the newspaper shelves were bare. The widely believed rumor was that the fire was intentionally set by the owner, because the town was going to tear it down anyway due to the renovations. He refused to sell it to the town because of the price he was offered, but unfortunately he did not have much of a choice in the matter. It was reported that he waited until the perfect time and set the fire so that he could collect insurance on the building, which he did.
Many weeks later, my mom was running down town past the spot where the building used to stand when she passed an older gentleman standing by the still taped off area, and scratching his head. She asked him if she could help with anything and he held up a slip of paper with an address scribbled on it. He explained that he bought an antique chandelier from the store many months prior, and was given the address as to where he could pick it up. The man admitted to spending 1000$ on the chandelier before my mom explained to him that the place and everything in it had burned down several weeks before.
February 9, 2009
Writing: Fiction
Town Description
The town of Washington has rarely been heard of. In fact, the county it resides in known as Warren County is not even well known in the popular state of New Jersey. The town is small and quiet, but most that live there never seem to leave. Not many like the town of Washington, yet even those who leave seem to come back. Most do not make it through high school, and even fewer make it through college. Half a mile of old stores and shops line both sides of the street that is considered “down town”. Many live in apartments and collect welfare, and their children run around town with runny noses and dirty jackets.
The town generally smells of cow manure and garbage, but on occasions the smell of a new season will carry through the air. For example, the first few cold days of winter most light the fireplaces in their homes and the sweet smell of burnt wood intoxicates the bitter air. Other than the small stretch of “down town” there exists a few elementary schools, and a regional high school that has been growing in size for the past several years since many development homes have been built over old farming fields. Nothing ever happens in the town I grew up in, and no one ever expects anything to happen. One event last spring however created one of the town’s biggest recognition in the news for the first time in years, and began rumors and gossip that still get around today.
One of the stores in town was an old store that had been the town’s hardware store since the earlier 1900s. A few years ago the old man who owned the store sold it to someone who turned it into an antique shop where people would both sell and buy antiques. The reality was that the antique store was an eyesore and made the town look even more run down than it had before. The building sat on a corner in between a parking lot and a branch of smaller stores. It was made of wood which was beginning to rot, and the numerous coats of white paint were dirty and chipped from years of neglect. Several pieces of antiques overcrowded the inside of the store and spilled out onto the curb. No one wanted someone else’s old junk, and even if they did, they probably didn’t have the money.
The town began renovations in the winter of 2007 in hopes of creating a more ascetically pleasing town. The need for business and money was dire, and this was also among the reasons for the renovations. One cold night in the beginning of spring 2008 every person in Washington heard the scream of sirens and fire trucks race to the old hardware store. The store was completely engulfed in flames, and within a few moments the entire town was coming out of their homes, warming their hands by the large fire, and catching up with each other. It was a funny sight to see the entire town of people huddling around the burning building, and having an excuse to talk to each other. The firemen worked around the people, and the crowd remained well into the early hours of the morning.
The next day the building was completely gone and the smell of burnt wood still hung in the air. A black charred pile of wood and what were once antiques lay scattered on the ground, and yellow police tape encased the area. Everyone was talking about the incident, and the newspaper shelves were bare. The widely believed rumor was that the fire was intentionally set by the owner, because the town was going to tear it down anyway due to the renovations. He refused to sell it to the town because of the price he was offered, but unfortunately he did not have much of a choice in the matter. It was reported that he waited until the perfect time and set the fire so that he could collect insurance on the building, which he did.
Many weeks later, my mom was running down town past the spot where the building used to stand when she passed an older gentleman standing by the still taped off area, and scratching his head. She asked him if she could help with anything and he held up a slip of paper with an address scribbled on it. He explained that he bought an antique chandelier from the store many months prior, and was given the address as to where he could pick it up. The man admitted to spending 1000$ on the chandelier before my mom explained to him that the place and everything in it had burned down several weeks before.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Dialogue
“It’s my turn!” whined 7 year old Lucy. Her older sister Thelma Dudley had been occupying the swing for more than her allotted time now.
“Go away.”
Thelma looked towards the side of the house where the window she broke only an hour earlier lay in pieces all over the damp grass. No one else had found out yet.
“Mommy said that when the big hand on my watch gets to the 5, then it’s my turn to play on the swing! She said!”
“It’s almost time to go inside anyway. Mom’s going to call us in for dinner any minute.”
It’s almost time to go inside. Mom will find out. She’ll know that I broke her window. She always knows when something is wrong. She thought to herself.
“But that’s not fair!!!! It’s my turn!!!”
What I am going to do? Maybe I can fix it quick. No I can’t do that. Maybe she won’t see it? No no, of course she will. Maybe I can tell her a bird flew into it? No she always knows when I’m lying. Maybe I should just tell her before she sees it for herself?
“I WANT A TURN!” Lucy screamed at him before kicking at the air in a tantrum.
“Stop being such a baby.”
Thelma jumped of the swing and pushed it towards her sister who almost caught it with her face. “Fine, just take it. Brat.”
Here goes she thought as she made her way to the house.
“Go away.”
Thelma looked towards the side of the house where the window she broke only an hour earlier lay in pieces all over the damp grass. No one else had found out yet.
“Mommy said that when the big hand on my watch gets to the 5, then it’s my turn to play on the swing! She said!”
“It’s almost time to go inside anyway. Mom’s going to call us in for dinner any minute.”
It’s almost time to go inside. Mom will find out. She’ll know that I broke her window. She always knows when something is wrong. She thought to herself.
“But that’s not fair!!!! It’s my turn!!!”
What I am going to do? Maybe I can fix it quick. No I can’t do that. Maybe she won’t see it? No no, of course she will. Maybe I can tell her a bird flew into it? No she always knows when I’m lying. Maybe I should just tell her before she sees it for herself?
“I WANT A TURN!” Lucy screamed at him before kicking at the air in a tantrum.
“Stop being such a baby.”
Thelma jumped of the swing and pushed it towards her sister who almost caught it with her face. “Fine, just take it. Brat.”
Here goes she thought as she made her way to the house.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Thelma Dudley: Action Scene
Thelma Dudley could barely hear her dinner bowl being filled with the dry dog food she had been used to for years. She slowly got on all fours and began slowly walking to her bowl. Amy, the human twelve year old, scratched a spot behind Thelma Dudley’s ears as she briskly walked past her.
“Thelma Dudley you’re getting fat!” Amy squealed.
“I should bite her,” thought Thelma, but she was hungry and soon forgot the girl’s comment.
She chewed slowly on the hard, round morsels that were supposed to provide her with energy and nutritious value. It hurt her teeth to chew on the hard morsels, and she would have done much better with a softer food.
“What’s the matter girl?” Bob, the father of the humans inquired enthusiastically, “not hungry today?”
Thelma slowly lifted her head and looked at him. The skin and fur hung loosely around her face, as it did the rest of her body and made her appear even older than she felt. There was no need for her to respond. She was tired again. She slowly walked back to her big pillow in the family room. The pillow was like her—old, warn, and faded, and she found her spot perfectly in the middle. The joints in her legs popped and cracked as she lowered herself onto the pillow and drifted off to sleep.
“Thelma Dudley you’re getting fat!” Amy squealed.
“I should bite her,” thought Thelma, but she was hungry and soon forgot the girl’s comment.
She chewed slowly on the hard, round morsels that were supposed to provide her with energy and nutritious value. It hurt her teeth to chew on the hard morsels, and she would have done much better with a softer food.
“What’s the matter girl?” Bob, the father of the humans inquired enthusiastically, “not hungry today?”
Thelma slowly lifted her head and looked at him. The skin and fur hung loosely around her face, as it did the rest of her body and made her appear even older than she felt. There was no need for her to respond. She was tired again. She slowly walked back to her big pillow in the family room. The pillow was like her—old, warn, and faded, and she found her spot perfectly in the middle. The joints in her legs popped and cracked as she lowered herself onto the pillow and drifted off to sleep.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)