Flash fiction

            Turning the slick, linoleum corner I could feel my heart pounding as I ran up the dirty steps. Reaching the top I glanced both ways before ducking into the closest classroom before I was caught.

            The sun rushed through my curtains like a tide.  It was the first day of ninth grade. Everyone sees high school as this time to recreate oneself but I knew better. Once a socially awkward mathlete, always a socially awkward mathlete. Today would be no different than anything I had experienced before. Tying the laces on my New Balance sneakers and hoisting my pink Jansport onto my back, I greeted the September sun with apprehension.

            Arriving at school was a confusing blur and suddenly I was seated at the back of my homeroom class. I spotted Jennifer at the front of the classroom. I gulped and thought to myself you knew this was coming, Sarah. Jennifer and I had been in classes together since first grade and I was terrified of her. She had bullied me to within an inch of my life and I have always allowed her to. From my plain clothes to my stringy hair I was nothing next to her natural good looks and admiration from all of those around her.

            Thankfully we did not encounter each other during homeroom but my lunch break was an entirely different story. Weaving my confused way through the crowd of students I felt like I had been pitched into a black hole. I turned a corner desperately wishing for a familiar face. I immediately regretted this wish as I came face to face with Jennifer. “Oh Hey, Sarah.” Jennifer said in her sweetest voice. “I see you really spent the summer improving your image. Those frumpy jeans are really in right now.” I could feel the sweat forming between my fingers and the blue plastic tray I was carrying. I noticed a few passerby students eying our interaction and something came over me.

            I placed my tray on the table behind and turned to face her. Looking Jennifer right in the eyes I simultaneously tipped her plastic cup of chocolate pudding onto her white blouse. Her mouth dropped in disbelief. “Well at least my frumpy jeans don’t look like they have shit all over them.” I said. A feeling of pride for standing up for myself swelled up inside me until I realized I could really get in trouble for this. Omg what did I just do? I once again spun around but this time it was to dash out of the cafeteria.

            I’m not sure where I believe I was going to hide but I needed to leave. Taking solace in an empty classroom I was eventually summoned over the loudspeaker from my next class. While I did get a week’s worth of detention and a reputation for trouble on my first day of high school. I realized I had rescued myself from years of simply putting up with someone’s unfair taunts. 

Blog ten

Blinking in the late afternoon sunlight, I slid my Oakley sunglasses onto my tanned face. Locating my Ford Explorer in the parking lot of my apartment building and clicking the button on my keychain, I’m lost in thought. Anxious nerves course through my body as I hop into the leather seat and start the engine. What could they possibly have done? My thoughts race as I slowly glide out of the parking lot and merge into the busy street.

        Remaining preoccupied, I drive through the familiar streets that I’ve traveled a hundred times before. Reaching the Wallmart parking lot I drive behind the vast building and past the loading docks behind the store. Squinting in the harsh light I can spot Brianna’s red Subaru parked in the spot where we have congregated so many times before. Lately they have used the spot as a place to collect beer money from each other but it was once a place to discuss crucial matters such as the newest NSync CD.

        Brianna and Kim hop out of the car as I killed the engine and unbuckled my seatbelt. “What is going on, guys?” I said immediately upon pushing the door open. Glancing nervously at one another, Brianna finally speaks up. “We have to show you in person.” She states flatly. “Leave your car here. I can drive.” Kim turns to get back in the car and I begin to get angry. “Whoa. Wait a minute. Can you just tell me what the hell is going on?” I stand completely still with my hand on my hips. They both freeze and then slowly turn around again. “No we can’t. Please just trust us and get in the car.” I sigh and follow them knowing that I don’t have any other choice.

        I roll down the back window and let the humid air wash over me. “You guys are really scaring me.” I say while staring at the backs of their heads.  Kim shrugs her shoulders and turns up the volume of the radio. My frustration is escalating and I finally start to pay attention to where we are going. Brianna made a right out of the parking lo and began driving out of town. Even more confused I cross my arms and try to stop myself from yelling at them.

        As we drive further and further into the rural areas surrounding our town the silence and confusion becomes excruciating.  We finally pull into a gravel driveway and Brianna kills the engine.  Surrounded by trees, I can see a house ahead of us. We climb out and begin walking toward the chipped front door. “This is my Aunt’s house.” Kim states. They both still look extremely grim and nothing but my utmost trust in our friendship is propelling my feet forward. Kim removes a key from her purse and clicks the old lock open. We plunge into the darkness and all of the sudden lights explode in front of my eyes. “SURPRISE!” Reverberates from dozens of voices surrounding me. Kim and Brianna laugh and hug me. “Gotcha!” Brianna giggles knowing that she had me completely fooled. Only my best friends would scare the living hell out of me before throwing me a surprise birthday party.  

Elevator

Elevator

Glossy, slick doors

Gliding across its rusted tracks

Blinking, fluorescent lights

Linoleum tiles, littered with crumpled trash

Graffiti scrawled across the dirty walls

Feeling trapped in a situation or relationship

Blinking lights represent indecision and questioning

Graffiti on the walls displays drunken indiscretion

Glossy slick doors welcoming you into something that is not what is seems

Crumpled trash represents wasted thoughts and ideas. 

Formalist poem

I cannot find it anywhere I look.

I search and search to no avail at all.

Not even in the pages of a book,

Or at the icy tops of mountains tall.

What is it I am looking for you ask?

Well it is happiness I suppose.

Its acquisition is no easy task,

Anyone who has searched for it knows.

Maybe this search is not what we all need.

The search could be what confuses us more.

That it is in ourselves we do not heed,

We turn this journey into a vast chore.

Try if you wish, cannot be taught or learned.

Rather acquired with wisdom and earned.

I chose to write a sonnet for this blog because I felt that it would be an interesting and beneficial challenge. I have honestly never really attempted to write formal poetry before so I felt that a sonnet would be a good place to start. I struggled with the poem sounding cliche due to the rhymes but I can imagine this is a struggle for anyone writing a sonnet. Since I am considering writing a sonnet for my formal workshop poem I felt that this blog would be a good exercise to teach myself writing in this manner. 

Book Thief Panel Reaction

            After attending The Book Thief panel last Tuesday I am extremely anxious to read the book myself over spring break! My favorite part was being exposed to the background of the book and how it came to be published. When she first read it, the publisher from Knopf fell in love with the novel but was very apprehensive when she first was told of the storyline. She enjoyed it so much that she even felt that there was very little editing to do which is rare.

            As for the marketing of the novel, it was really great to hear the publisher say that both she and the author agreed that to publish the novel as Adult Fiction would be to underestimate and shortchange young adults who they felt could handle the heavy elements of the story. They felt that the element of hope in the novel would make it perfect for young adults despite the fact that it is a holocaust novel told from the point of view of death. It was also really nice to hear that they did this despite opposition from the Australian publisher. This also occurred with the original illustrations of the novel that were commissioned by the author himself. The publisher informed us that illustrations are typically controlled by the editors and publishers, but she felt that the originals really contributed to the novel. It was interesting to learn of all of these marketing techniques and how they were trying to publish something that would appeal to teen boys and it has now become a best seller and popular with all ages and genders.

            Prior to this I never realized how much thought and strategy goes into publishing these novels. The Book Thief’s publisher even told us that in England the exact same book was published as Adult and Young Adult Fiction but with different covers as though they were different in order to appeal to the different demographics.  

Dream response

Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.

Dreams by Langston Hughes

The Art of Dreams

Shape them as you wish 

They are yours to cherish

These dreams that you cling to

Will carry you to happiness.

 Sun streaming through a dirt smudged window, 

They give hope and motivation.

Clouds roll by but they remain, 

These dreams are yours to shape. 

Horoscope

Is it written in yours?

It is written in mine.

Comedy or tragedy.

Read with caution because it could come true.

Found in a newspaper on the side of a deserted street or

in a magazine.

Write them off or believe in them.

What they tell us will haunt our day or week or month.

Is it eye opening or just some nonsense?

What is written in yours?

Shrouded in thick fog.

Will it come true?