WRITING FICTION
Writing fiction has turned out to be much more difficult than I could ever have imagined. Upon reading this opening scene, one would never guess the direction this story would take. I am not yet sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. I guess it depends on the story. I need to determine if my story can survive with a beginning such as this:Chapter 1- Her unending discontent leads to disaster
“Hey Ms. Maxwell, I was going to cut your class at first but forget it. The dean and his motley crew of cannibalistic assistants would almost certainly capture me. Who wants to waste time trapped in in-school suspension? On second thought, that might be better than rotting in this hellhole with an ogre like you. Anything would be better than your stupid class.”
Ms. Maxwell trotted over to Claire’s desk and shot her a look that made her blood boil. “Claire, sit down and get to work!” she demanded.
Feeling far from intimidated, Claire returned fire with a gaze that caused Ms. Maxwell to take two steps backward. She yelled, “No! You get back to work, Ms. Maxwell! Your class is boring as hell! Look at this disgusting place.” Claire looked around the room at the sky blue walls with painted clouds. The classroom bulletin board contained outdated student work. “Here it is April, and you still have work up about the holiday season.” Claire found no beauty in the efforts her teacher made to beautify the classroom.
“Ya know what else? You can’t even teach. How on earth did you get this job? The way you look certainly didn’t get you hired. Honey, if looks had anything to do with it, you would have been rejected upon first sight. God, the sight of you makes me wanna puke. Now get out of my face!” Claire’s defiance sent shockwaves through Ms. Maxwell’s body. She was verbally paralyzed.
“Do you have any idea how ugly you are? You should be more worried about that screwed up hairdo than what I’m doing right now.” She looked at Ms. Maxwell’s curly hair that appeared as though it were filled with dust. “Hello,” Claire taunted her. “The bird’s nest look has never been in. Oh wait! You probably have a spider web holding it together.” A clamor of laughter sprang out from her classmates. “God, I can’t stand you. For the life of me, I can’t understand why the principal won’t get rid of you as soon as humanly possible. You should be more like me, Ms. Maxwell. I’m hot. You can’t get any better than this,” Claire boasted as she arrogantly pranced in front of her classmates switching her hips from side to side.
“One day, I’ll find a man who’ll worship me. He’ll treat me like the queen I am. I can just picture him waiting on me hand and foot. Don’t you wish you had a man, Ms. Maxwell?” The bell rang just as she finished her last emotional rant against the teacher. “Now that is what I call saved by the bell. I’m getting out of this friggin class. Who knows? I may send you some crumbs from my spectacular wedding cake. Bye, Bye Ms. Maxwell.”
posted by LorMarie @ 2:57 PM
6 Comments:
Back in the days when I read my Bible every day, was at church 5 out of 7 days (either practicing with the gospel group or cleaning the church, or getting ready for a lesson) . . . as great as my life was, there was one snag. My youngest stepson was into drugs, becoming disrespectful, belligerent, copped an attitude. It was awful. Nothing I said to him got through. I begged and pleaded with him . . . nothing! But because he was under 18 and lived in our house, he was required to go to church.
One Sunday evening, the gospel group (of sorts LOL) and I were singing, and I looked back in the congregation, and there is my youngest with the most bored, hateful look on his face . . . a look that said, 'You can make me come to church . . . but you can't make me worship." The tears welled up in my eyes, and I went to the altar and silently begged and pleaded with God to open this kids' eyes before it was too late. I know I heard "Give him to me". It was sooooooo real, that I almost turned to see if my friends were praying with me . . . no one but me. The tears really began to pour and I remember praying, "But he might get hurt, jailed, his whole life might be ruined . . .", and I heard again "Give him to me". I realized at that moment that *I* was trying to fix my stepsons' problem and was afraid of giving it to God for fear (you're gonna' love this), for fear God would do it wrong or get him hurt. So I wiped the tears from my eyes and said, "God . . . he's yours. Please show him as much mercy, as you did me . . . or even more mercy."
I remember getting up, the ache in my heart was gone, I glanced at my stepson (who still looked angry as hell) and inwardly smiled, thinking, "Sweetie, if you thought I could be a pain to deal with . . . you ain't seen nothing yet - meet God!" From the day I gave it to God, I never took it back. I had shielded a lot from my husband and my older stepson (always trying to "fix" things), but once I gave it to God, I quit "fixing" them . . . therefore, my husband and older stepsons' eyes were opened. But they couldn't understand why I wasn't as concerned about him as they were. I told them the above story, and told them "Now when I pray for him, and I've seen no changes, I just smile and thank God for a prayer that I know will be answered. I figure the longer it takes . . . the bigger the blessing."
TWO YEARS GO BY . . .
We're at my in-laws at the beach, and the younger one who had been living on his own stopped by because he knew we would be going home the next day. My in-laws made a comment that they worried so much about a friend of theirs. I smiled and said, "Worry is a sin. If you believe in God, and know that He answers prayer in HIS time, then to continue to worry about it is almost like saying we don't trust God to take care of it." My in-laws are very religious, so they got kinda' bent. A very heated discussion ensued with my father in-law making a comment like, "It must be nice to not have to pray for anything", and I smiled and said, "Who said I didn't pray? But instead of asking him for the same thing over and over, now I thank for what hasn't been answered, but I know will be. That's faith!"
My youngest stepson needed a ride back to his place, so I told him I'd take him and when we got to his house (which was truly a dump) I said, 'Come visit us sometime, and Honey . . . when you're ready to get your life back together, we're only a phone call away. I already have a room ready for the prodigal son to return.", and I laughed. He said, "I'm ready now." He went home with us that night. When I walked back into my in-laws' house with that young man, I gave my father in-law a hug and whispered in his ear . . . in HIS time, Grandpa . . . not a minute too early, nor a minute too late.
Wonderful testimony. My personal walk is under major reconstruction. I've had to take inventory of everything I believe and purge myself of things I found to be futile. Personally, I don't believe that God answers all prayer. In fact, there are some things He shouldn't answer. I've actually heard people thank God for unanswered prayer, LOL. Determining God's timing isn't as tricky as we might think. We know that now is the day of salvation. We also know that God has set time in order for many things. There are times however, that we will miss opportunities because we are waiting for the "heavens to open up" and God to speak with an audible voice. God is much more realistic than we would imagine. I guess we have to take things case by case. Sometimes it could be a person trying to fix things and other times it could be the Holy Spirit working within a person to fix things. I guess it depends on the outcome. The main character in my story rushed things to her horror but found redemption at the end. Thus the nature of grace...I don't know.
Anyway, welcome to my blog and keep posting.
LorMar - I look forward to reading the "rest of your Story" (a feeble attempt at Paul Harvey) LOL . . . you have a wonderful gift in expressing yourself. Continue on, my sister . . . for you are a sister. We each hurt, for different reasons, but the pain is just as real for each of us. Many of the things you have written, has made my heart heavy . . . but we all must go through the "reconstructive" phase at some point. Fortunately, the PPG's are never far away.
I too believe the Holy Spirit works through others. I met a very good friend on the RR board years ago . . . she was steadfast, never waivering, never judgmental, and so wise for her young years. And she hasn't changed. She has been a blessing in my life. ;-)
God does work in mysterious ways.
WHY THE QUOTES? THIS REALLY IS PART OF A NOVEL I WROTE.
The quotes around "the rest of your story" is a Paul Harvey (radio commentator - please tell me you aren't too young to remember that LOL) signature.
I started writing a fictional book about 7 years ago. Unfortunately, I didn't save it on the computer that is now gone, therefore I'd have to start over. ANYWAYS, many a writer uses a part of their life (some use a large part, others a very small part) when starting a novel. If I misinterpreted or assumed incorrectly, I apologize.
Okay . . . I've now got a blog. Please help me remember my blog name! LOL
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