For this exercise, I took my original version of Giving and Receiving. I decided to use Aunt Rita as the character who is writing a letter to someone (her friend Helen) not in the story, telling her what is happening in the story.
Dear Helen,
You can't imagine how glad I was to get your call! People have been stopping by off and on; but I can't help but wonder if it's just out of a sense of obligation rather than really wanting to see me. There I go again, feeling sorry for myself. I try to keep a positive attitude, but it is so hard in this place. It just doesn't seem fair that I have to spend my "twilight" years in a nursing home. I hate how the aides talk to me like I'm a child. The food is actually tolerable, but the atmosphere is really depressing. There is a woman in the next room who constantly screams for tapioca pudding. By the end of my first day, I was ready to dump of can of the stuff over her head! I've gotten used to it though; I almost don't even hear it anymore.
My nephew Kevin stopped by the other day. You know he's always been my favorite, though I would never tell anyone in the family. We had a really nice chat. He offered to work with Carol to get some of my things out of storage to personalize my cell...oops I mean room!
I think the hardest part for me is coming to grips with the idea that I'll probably never get out of here. It's really hard to be hopeful when there seems to be no hope at all. Last night I had a dream about Jack Kevorkian. Remember him? He is (or should I say was, I don't know if he's still alive) the "suicide doctor." You don't need to read too much into what that dream meant.
I put on a happy face for most of the family, but I'm grateful that with you Helen, I can let it all hang out. I really look forward to seeing you once your legs are better. How is therapy going? Please call again soon, I really enjoy our conversations.
Love,
Rita.
Monday, June 29, 2009
The Secret of Writing: Revising Fiction and Poetry Journal Assignment: Fiction - Bringing Abstract Ideas to Life
Racism
Calling an African-American the "n" word.
Injustice
A poor man going to jail for something, while a rich man does the same thing and gets off because he has a high-priced lawyer.
Ambition
Doing whatever it takes to become a doctor.
Growing Old
Being grateful every morning when you wake up.
Salvation
Having a life preserver thrown to you as you feel yourself drowning.
Poverty
Not being able to give your child a quarter for a piece of gum because you only have enough money for the bare essentials.
Growing Up
No longer feeling that Mommy and Daddy will take care of everything for you.
Sexual Deceit
Telling your wife you have to work late again, while your mistress waits across town.
Wealth
Walking into a store and buying whatever you want, without even thinking about the cost.
Evil
Not feeding your dog to see how long they can survive.
Calling an African-American the "n" word.
Injustice
A poor man going to jail for something, while a rich man does the same thing and gets off because he has a high-priced lawyer.
Ambition
Doing whatever it takes to become a doctor.
Growing Old
Being grateful every morning when you wake up.
Salvation
Having a life preserver thrown to you as you feel yourself drowning.
Poverty
Not being able to give your child a quarter for a piece of gum because you only have enough money for the bare essentials.
Growing Up
No longer feeling that Mommy and Daddy will take care of everything for you.
Sexual Deceit
Telling your wife you have to work late again, while your mistress waits across town.
Wealth
Walking into a store and buying whatever you want, without even thinking about the cost.
Evil
Not feeding your dog to see how long they can survive.
The Secret of Writing: Revising Fiction and Poetry Journal Assignment: Fiction - Opening Up Your Story
Giving and Receiving
If someone said make a wish, he would wish that neither he nor his aunt had to be in this place. Kevin really didn’t want to be there. The place was rundown and stunk and the people all looked like they had one foot in the grave. Indeed, most of the people in the Xavier Springs Nursing facility had more than foot there.
He got the information from the front desk and proceeded down the hall to his aunt’s room. As he rounded the corner, he heard this woman yelling over and over that she wanted tapioca pudding. One of the aides told him to just ignore it; she yelled that same thing day after day. Hismother had told him to be prepared for people acting odd, he wasn’t expecting this. All he wanted to do was to make an appearance with his aunt and get the hell out of there.
As he entered her room, the smell of peppermint brought him back to the fun times he had spent at Aunt Rita’s house when he was little. She always had dishes of the candy everywhere, and he was happy to see a bowl on the table next to her bed. This time last year she was planning a cruise to Alaska; now, a stroke had prevented her from every walking again.
Suddenly, he remembered he had forgotten that he was supposed to take his girlfriend to the mall to pick up her prom dress. He tried calling her but his cell phone couldn’t get a signal. He saw the rotary phone on her nightstand, and went to use it when the phone started ringing. He grabbed the receiver and said hello. The caller wanted to talk to Jack; Kevin told him there was no Jack there.
“I must talk to Jack, it’s an emergency.”
“Like I said, there is no Jack here. This is a nursing home.”
“I know what it is,” the caller barked with annoyance, “isn’t this room 23?”
Kevin looked at the open door and saw the “23” on it. “Yes, it’s room 23, but there is no Jack here, only my aunt.”
“Like I said, there is no Jack here. This is a nursing home.”
“I know what it is,” the caller barked with annoyance, “isn’t this room 23?”
Kevin looked at the open door and saw the “23” on it. “Yes, it’s room 23, but there is no Jack here, only my aunt.”
“Is you aunt’s name Rita?”
“Yes,” Kevin replied apprehensively.
“Tell her it’s Jack’s brother Jacob calling, she’ll know who I am.”
“Yes,” Kevin replied apprehensively.
“Tell her it’s Jack’s brother Jacob calling, she’ll know who I am.”
Secret of Writing: Revising Fiction and Poetry Journal Assignment Fiction: Show and Tell with modified draft
Giving and Receiving
“How can people live with this stench?” Kevin thought to himself as he walked into the lobby of the Xavier Springs Nursing Facility.
He couldn’t identify the source of the smell, but the feeling of nausea was overpowering. Despite being twenty-three, he’d never been in a place like this before. In addition to the odor, which he finally decided smelled like a combination of turnips and Lysol, he also was uncomfortable with the way so many of the patients just seemed to be sitting in wheelchairs doing nothing. He went to front desk and asked what room his Aunt Rita was in. While his she was his favorite aunt, Kevin couldn’t wait to get out of this place.
As he walked down the long corridor of towards his aunt’s room, he heard someone asking for tapioca pudding. The odd thing was she kept asking for it over and over again. He looked in the room where the sound was coming from and saw there was no one in there but a small woman in a big bed.
“Just ignore her,” said a girl who looked much younger than Kevin, “that’s all she says all day long.”
“Wow, that must be annoying.”
“Well, you get used to it after a while.”
Finally, he got to his aunt’s room and knocked on the door. A very weak voice beckoned him to come in. Despite the low volume of the voice, he recognized it and walked in. He was immediately struck by how sad she looked. Rita had tried really hard to stay in her apartment, but after a fall her niece Carol (Rita had never married and had no immediate family) had decided that she couldn’t take care of herself anymore and the only place she could afford was this facility. As soon as he came toward her, she started to cry.
“Please get me out here Kevin, I hate this place.”
Kevin immediately wished he’d never come. What was he going to say? She went on to tell him that while everyone was very nice to her she felt like she was in prison. He could certainly see what she meant. The cinder block walls were barren, and the room was very dark, even with the lights on. People had come to visit her, but she wondered how long that would last. “People have their own lives; they don’t want to come see a decrepit old woman.
Kevin asked where all the stuff from her apartment was.
“Carol put it in storage for me.”
“Well, maybe it might be more like your apartment if you had some of your things in here.”
Rita agreed and gave him a list of things she’d like to have in her room. Kevin promised to return the following week with the items.
Week after week Kevin came; he even began to tolerate the smell, though he never got used to the “tapioca woman”. One time he was asking Rita about her life when she was little. He found himself fascinated by things that happened when she and her brother (Kevin’s father who had died a few years earlier) were growing up. He’d never been particularly close to his father, and was both sad that he didn’t know much of what she told him, but happy to finally be getting so much insight into his father’s life when he was little.
Kevin continued his periodic visits to see his aunt until she contracted pneumonia and died three days later. At Rita’s funeral, his cousin Carol handed him a package. She told him that she had found it in a drawer at the nursing home. He opened the package and saw that it was pages that she had taken out of one of the photo albums he had brought her from storage. They were all pictures of his father growing up. In addition, she had included several pages of reflections on each of the pictures. It appeared that she had been working on it for some time, but hadn’t finished it before she got sick.
Paper clipped to the first page was a note that said “Kevin, I know you miss your father. Hopefully these pictures and my ramblings about them will bring you a little happiness. Goodness knows your visits have brought me more joy than you can imagine. Think fondly of me whenever you have tapioca pudding! Love, Aunt Rita.”
“How can people live with this stench?” Kevin thought to himself as he walked into the lobby of the Xavier Springs Nursing Facility.
He couldn’t identify the source of the smell, but the feeling of nausea was overpowering. Despite being twenty-three, he’d never been in a place like this before. In addition to the odor, which he finally decided smelled like a combination of turnips and Lysol, he also was uncomfortable with the way so many of the patients just seemed to be sitting in wheelchairs doing nothing. He went to front desk and asked what room his Aunt Rita was in. While his she was his favorite aunt, Kevin couldn’t wait to get out of this place.
As he walked down the long corridor of towards his aunt’s room, he heard someone asking for tapioca pudding. The odd thing was she kept asking for it over and over again. He looked in the room where the sound was coming from and saw there was no one in there but a small woman in a big bed.
“Just ignore her,” said a girl who looked much younger than Kevin, “that’s all she says all day long.”
“Wow, that must be annoying.”
“Well, you get used to it after a while.”
Finally, he got to his aunt’s room and knocked on the door. A very weak voice beckoned him to come in. Despite the low volume of the voice, he recognized it and walked in. He was immediately struck by how sad she looked. Rita had tried really hard to stay in her apartment, but after a fall her niece Carol (Rita had never married and had no immediate family) had decided that she couldn’t take care of herself anymore and the only place she could afford was this facility. As soon as he came toward her, she started to cry.
“Please get me out here Kevin, I hate this place.”
Kevin immediately wished he’d never come. What was he going to say? She went on to tell him that while everyone was very nice to her she felt like she was in prison. He could certainly see what she meant. The cinder block walls were barren, and the room was very dark, even with the lights on. People had come to visit her, but she wondered how long that would last. “People have their own lives; they don’t want to come see a decrepit old woman.
Kevin asked where all the stuff from her apartment was.
“Carol put it in storage for me.”
“Well, maybe it might be more like your apartment if you had some of your things in here.”
Rita agreed and gave him a list of things she’d like to have in her room. Kevin promised to return the following week with the items.
Week after week Kevin came; he even began to tolerate the smell, though he never got used to the “tapioca woman”. One time he was asking Rita about her life when she was little. He found himself fascinated by things that happened when she and her brother (Kevin’s father who had died a few years earlier) were growing up. He’d never been particularly close to his father, and was both sad that he didn’t know much of what she told him, but happy to finally be getting so much insight into his father’s life when he was little.
Kevin continued his periodic visits to see his aunt until she contracted pneumonia and died three days later. At Rita’s funeral, his cousin Carol handed him a package. She told him that she had found it in a drawer at the nursing home. He opened the package and saw that it was pages that she had taken out of one of the photo albums he had brought her from storage. They were all pictures of his father growing up. In addition, she had included several pages of reflections on each of the pictures. It appeared that she had been working on it for some time, but hadn’t finished it before she got sick.
Paper clipped to the first page was a note that said “Kevin, I know you miss your father. Hopefully these pictures and my ramblings about them will bring you a little happiness. Goodness knows your visits have brought me more joy than you can imagine. Think fondly of me whenever you have tapioca pudding! Love, Aunt Rita.”
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Writing a Short Short Short - Writing Short Short/Prose Poem
As he rolled down his window and pulled in the speaker, he wondered what tonight would bring. Would they only watch the movie? Would she slap him if he tried to cop a feel? Would they wind up in the back seat or stay in their own separate bucket seats? He was never good a reading faces, but he wanted to believe that her smile meant that he would probably not find out how the movie ends - or perhaps how it even begins.
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