College Life

So, what could be more exciting then college, right? I mean: independence, responsibility, being treated like an adult, being in charge of yourself, making new friends, finding love, drinking... What could possibly be wrong about college life?
Well the things that are wrong with college life are as follows: independence, responsibility, being treated like an adult, being in charge of yourself, making new friends, finding love, drinking. Yeah. Clichéd as it sounds, the very problem with college life is all the things that make it great. Honestly, since starting college in August, I have yet to drink alcohol. I have been to a cast party at a Senior's house (where alcohol was served "BYOB if you want to drink" and everybody was cool with you not drinking if you didn't want to), and I have seen my roommate wasted. I have no personal experience with how alcohol makes you feel. However, when my roommate (a little,120-pound, 5-foot-nothing, girl, who had never drunk anything in her life) came back one night after a party where she had a Four Loco, I swore to stay alcohol free.
But aside from alcohol and all the bad things that I can do (which everyone already knows, and if you don't then go google it and get a lecture from someone else). I'm doing really well. For those of you that do not know me personally here's a little about my college life: I live on campus, I'm a Creative Writing and Theater Arts double major, I'm in my school's Honors College, and I'm considering going into Pre-Law (not a major, but it does involve taking some legal studies classes).

I've been doing pretty well adjusting to college life. Though, sadly, my writing had gone by the wayside. But I am back now. Hopefully I can stay up to date with this blog again. One of my classes is requiring me to write a "creative piece dealing with the theme of the double". So that's what I'm doing.

I'm also working on some auditions in theater and looking at a couple more places that I might submit stories to. One of the novellas I've been working on for a while is going pretty well. And I've decided that as of today I will start NaNoWriMo (national novel writing month). Sure I'm a few days late, but that's what makes it a challenge. I will keep y'all updated through Facebook and twitter.

I think that's all for now...

Ciao!

Rejection And Bouncing Back

So I finally heard back from the publisher and ( as you might have guessed by the title) I was rejected. Or, to quote the email, my story "has not been accepted for publication at this time". So, I was a little upset, OK a lot upset. But I realized that pouting wasn't going to get me published. So what did I do?

I gave myself two minutes to sulk and wallow in self pity, then I got right back to writing. I realized that it wasn't that my story was bad, it just wasn't right or ready for publication. To be completely honest, I knew it wasn't my best work when I submitted it.

Now I'm working on a couple other pieces, ones that I hope will be better than this last one. I'm also trying to work off an outline for a story that I plan to make a novella out of.

And let me just say: outlines suck. OK not really. Outlines are actually some of the best things ever! But once you finish one it's like 'Yay! I'm done I can move on with other stories.... Except, this one isn't actually done. Ugh!'

I'm getting ready to move in to college, and I am coming back from a family vacation in Disney world! I did write a couple stories (fan fiction) that I will put online shortly.

Ciao!

More of What I Read

So, I just finished another frabulous book. Literally. Like, ten minutes ago. So, while the story is fresh in my mind, here is my review for Kevin Lucia's "Devourer of Souls" (WARNING! there will be SPOILERS!)

Let me start off with the "nitty gritty" kind of things. Firstly, there was at least one grammar/spelling mistake (the word "wait" where "with" made sense, and "wait" did not). But I'm not one to judge a book based on the spelling/grammar, because I am notorious for making those mistakes myself. On the plus side, the framing devise used is incredible! The 'structure' of the book is like this: two men talking in a cafe, introducing the reader to the atmosphere and the scene; then a novella, told first person by way of a 'if-you're-reading-this-I'm-dead' journal; then back to the present with the guys in the cafe; then on to the second novella and another first-person recounting of events; followed by a Coda, with our two guys from the cafe. Now the second novella is where the POV was kinda 'meh' for me.

Overall the POV shifts were fine, and totally clear, but there were some parts in the second novella "the man in yellow" that were kind of confusing. The POV is actually that of one Father Ward (one of the guys in the cafe) retelling to his friend something that was said to Father Ward. So it's kind of like a first-person recounting of a first person event. Like me telling you what it was like for my grandpa growing up in Philly. For the most part that did not distract from the story, but there were some places where it just wasn't needed.

Now, on to the fun stuff.

 The story was great. And the perfect balance of suspense and mystery. There were enough twists to keep you on your toes, but not so many that you had 'whiplash' trying to keep up. Even the most unexpected turns were eased to the reader for an overall 'smooth ride'.

"Sophan" was an interesting little trip. I say it like that because I seriously felt like it was the kind of thing we would read in a Mr. Lucia class (which should be a high compliment to the author).  There was so much that was symbolic. I actually went back and re-read the parts about what the diffrent dragons meant, and which boy drew which tile. It was fun, as was drawing parallels between all the characters. There were just enough questions (what did ever  happen to Mr. Trung? Is/was he the Chiao?) which, to me, is more enjoyable than when an author spells out the ending.

To be totally honest, I liked "the man in yellow" better than "sophan" probably because of the ending. At the end of "sophan" we are left with a sort of speculative (and a little cliched) ending of "this is how I think it will end". Which leaves the reader to question, does it end that way? Also, the character development of the main character is just not 'real' enough for me. Oh, you had this bat-sh*t crazy thing happen to you as an adolescent, so you wave it aside, like nothing ever freaking happened. Then, years later, you just accept the fact that the ghost of your childhood 'frenemy' is jumping around all frantic? And this guy accepts, without a shadow of doubt or any questioning, that he is meant to go die, just like his 'frenemy' when they were younger? Not to mention that the whole relationship between Nate and Jake fits in with the 'perfect literary foil' of two characters with many similarities in their past and how one turns out good, the other, not so good (in my experience it has been one character is good, the other is insane).


Now, "the man in yellow", where to begin? I liked it. Although, when I started reading it, I was just like "oh great, we have a pastor's son who's all rebellious and 'God sucks' who has a disease... and I can just see where this epic 'battle-of-faith' is going from here". I was, very happily, proven wrong. my favorite part probably being when the main character, Stu, is all "so the fate of my whole town rests on me resisting the call right?  I need to be this dramatic hero and save everyone by sacrificing myself?" and the big bad monster (the man in yellow) is just like "no. actually, it doesn't matter what you do now, because I have what I need and I'm taking your town to Hell, with or without you."

As a reader, my jaw hit the floor. That was totally unexpected, from my perspective. The sudience was being built up for this (cliched) epic  conflict. The hero rising from the ashes (I'll bring that point back later) and all that happy crap. So when the protagonist has to find another way to stop the big bad man in yellow, so close to the end of the book too. Just wow.

But then, Lucia isn't done throwing twists at you yet. Oh no, no, no. You see, there is still one last twist at the end. Stu, who did triumphantly win by burning down the church. Is now living a normal life when he tells Father Ward of his plights. But then, Stu has a sudden realization. Maybe due to his finally recounting his tale to someone else, or maybe he just knew. But Stu actually becomes one to the monsters that he had tried so desperately to conquer.... and then he scuttles off to the woods, never to be seen again.

So, the book was overall amazing! I can honestly say that I will never be able to read 'Curious George" to my cousin again (The man in the yellow hat, the man in the yellow suit, I just can't handle it). And I think the greatest compliments that I can give are these:
1) I read the ehole book in three sittings
2) my Mom found the cover so creepy that I "wasn't allowed to read it in the family common area, unless the cover is covered"
and
3) It is going on my bookshelf, right next to my Harry Potter's, which are my favorite books in the whole universe (and I've read some pretty good books)

To conclude: Five Stars for Mr. Lucia, and I can't wait to see if any more comes out of  Clifton Heights!

Long Time, No See

So. I've officially graduated high school and I am now preparing to head off to college. The last month and a half have been a whirlwind of "get this paper in!" "Fill out these important forms ASAP!" "Do this or you can't graduate!" "Do this or you can't go to college!" and a bunch of fun stuff like that. So between Prom, Graduation, Finishing High School, and Enrolling in classes for college, I managed to submit a story for professional publication.

Now, that doesn't necessarily mean that I will get published. But I did manage to send the story in, and now I'm just waiting to hear back on that. In the mean time I've been working on some fun little writing exercises, and trying to finish at least one novel/novella. But I've reached a plateau in all the stories. The kind of plateau that is essential to the story, but it hard to write.

To Clarify: every book, movie, play, etc. has a point where it's just a lull between actions. Or simply exposition. As a writer, it's hard to write that part. Especially for me. Every time I want to explain something, I hear my teacher's voice in my head saying Show, Don't Tell, SHOW DO NOT TELL. Which is really hard to do sometimes. Plus, I want to avoid what I call the "Twilight Montage" that is, in New Moon when there are, what, four? five? six? pages that consist of nothing but the name of the month? ("October" "November" "December"...you get the idea)

I also, as a writer, want to avoid the "info dump" as much as possible. That is, I don't want to just give you all the information at once, I have to draw it out through dialogue or a scene. Sometimes there is just no way around it. A writer has a deadline and just needs to get the information to the reader. But for now, I am not working on a deadline. I mean, yes I make deadlines for myself. But I don't have the promise of a payday being held over me. 

I guess this has just kind of turned into another rambling session of mine, hasn't it? Oh well. I do have some news, if anybody has made it this far. I am going to write some fan fiction and post it here. Don't worry, nothing smutty. And I'm working very specific here: crossover fanfic. Please, hold your insults and gagging, it gets better. I will be writing about Disney Princesses (and Princes, of course) at Hogwarts. (How original, right?) Just kidding on the original thing, but totally serious about writing these. I found (whilst paroozing tumblr) some really fun illustrations that people have done of their favorite Disney Princesses at Hogwarts. And I figure, Hey! I like Hogwarts, I like Disney! And I need to write something, and this is a good mind numbing exercise I can do while I try to figure out how to fill plot  holes I've accidentally created in my other works.

So keep an eye out for that, oh! And be expecting to see more of me. Because it is finally Summer and I have nothing better to do when it is raining and too hot to sleep.

Ciao!

High School: Who Cares?

So, I haven't taken you on  a journey through my mind recently, so let's see what happens...

Let me bring you up to speed on my life, thus far. I have finally decided that I am going to Le Moyne College next year. I have also gone through a rough break-up, no worries I won't be all bitchy about it. But it got me thinking... high school is really trivial.

Think about it. In high school you feel like everything happening to you will be so important for the rest of your life. In the moment, everything is important. And you think that you are planning for your future. but really, how much of this is actually important?

Who cares if you got the best grades? Who cares if you won the most football games? Who cares if you were a geek? Who cares if you were a slut? Honestly, high school is such a short part of our lives, only four years, and yet we feel like it is the time that shapes us the most. I will admit that in my four years of high school I have changed quite a bit. But I wouldn't say that these were the most important days of my life.

Of course, thus far they are pretty important. In high school you do have to make some major choices. But these choices aren't like, life or death, they are- for the most part- just things to make life easier down the road. For example, if I decided to go to Le Moyne for  Creative Writing (which I did) but in a year I decide to go to Cal Tech for Astrophysics, I can. It will be harder, but I can still do it.

Similarly, friendships forged in high school are hardly life-long, nor permanent. I had friends that graduated before me, and they probably wouldn't count me as a friend any more. For no other reason than, we just don't hang out. If they see me on the street, they acknowledge me, and I them. But it's not like we have to have really in-depth conversations or even a normal conversation. Life moves on.

I also know that when I leave here, in about two months; when I say good-bye to some people, that is going to be our final good-bye. Sure, I have friends that I hope I can stay in touch with, but honestly, we won't have much to talk about if we're not involved in the same activities. I wish I could say that I'll stay in touch with everyone, but that is just a lie. I wish I could say that my (now ex) boyfriend was "the one" and that I'll never be whole again. But that's simply not true.


High school relationships, friendships, enemy-ships, etc.... they all end. I can honestly say that in five months I won't care who I was in a relationship with; I won't care who sat next to me in fourth period theology; I won't care which parties I wasn't invited to; I won't care about most of my (current) friends' issues because; let's be honest, I will be far away, living my own life. Quite Simply, high school is just another four years. College is just another four years. Ultimately, I don't think I'll even remember most of these people in a year.

I suppose that should make me sad, but it doesn't. OK, that's a lie. I am torn up right now. My heart is dieing. I do get sad when I think that these people that I have shared so much with will be gone. But then I realize that, just because I have had friends move on, doesn't mean that I've been sad for the last four years. I managed to make new friends every year. And I know my little buddies will too.

Now, don't get me wrong. I love my friends. I hope I can stay in contact with them, but I'm not going to kill myself to stay in contact with them.

This post, I suppose, is me really letting go. Letting go of all the negative feelings I have towards certain people: the girl who used to be my best friend, the ex friends that won't let things go, the one who ripped my heart out, the jerks who made fun of me, the kids who pissed me off, the authorities that were corrupt.... In the end, all of it is so trivial.

I feel like I have had a sudden epiphany today. Because, while all those things did hurt me; made me scream and cry and hurt; none of them are so detrimental to my life that I can't move on. My Mom always says that everything happens for a reason, I suppose it does. I'm not saying that these things didn't shape me, because they did. But I am saying that I don't need to dwell on them.

And if you're in high school, middle school, college, working, whatever; and you're reading this, then just remember: so much of what you think is detrimental is really trivial. Now, some people do have legitimate things to worry about in high school and college (having a child, cancer, getting married, taking care of siblings, parents dieing, etc.) but I am not one of those people. My life is pretty ordinary. The most pressing thing now is passing all my classes and finding a date to prom.

So, my advise is to keep living life and "doing you" but don't let little things (like break-ups, or fizzled friendships, or failing classes, or loosing a game) control your life. That's all for now, I will try to post more often now that the school year is winding down, but I make no promises.

Ciao!

Social Media

Hey Y'all!

I am making a Twitter and Facebook for you to follow me on if you want some more "up to date" news about me. A lot of times I have stuff that I want to say about writing and similar things, but not enough for me to make a full post out of. Not to mention That I am very busy at the moment and it's just easier to write a quick 140 character thought than a whole post where I have to proof-read and think it through. So, follow me on Twitter: @ebrown_writes

And Facebook: facebook.com/ebrownwrites 

And I will let you know any other things that come up!

Ciao!

My predictions for the future

So guys, I was talking to a friend the other day and I had this idea. What will it be like at my 20th high school reunion? This is the result.

****
"Are you ready?" I call up the stairs.
"Relax." my husband says, walking down as he buttons his Kelly green shirt. His white tie hangs around his shoulders. His black slacks are pressed and clean, and his socks slip on the hardwood floor.
"I know, but I think I have a right to be a little nervous, Bryan."
"You'll be fine." he says, then pecks me on the lips.

The phone rings.
"I got it." He checks the caller ID then chuckles, "Courtney."
"Answer, tell her I'm leaving now, and I'll call back on my cell in 10?20? Minutes."

There's a dull thumping coming from upstairs, I start up. My tan tights slip until I reach the carpeted stairs.
"Alex?" I ask, going to the blue door. As I open the door a hockey stick clatters to the ground in front of me. My daughter's bright red hair spills over the edge of her bed. She's bouncing a basketball against her wall.
"Alexis Rose Bethovan!"
She stops when she sees me scowling. She knows what she is supposed to be doing, and she also knows that she is never supposed to bounce the ball in the house. Let alone against her wall while we're trying to get out the door.
"Young lady," I prepare to give a rant, but I'm distracted by her clothes on the floor.

Alex is still in her outer space PJ's and her black tee with the fish on it is crumpled in the center of her sea life rug, and her royal blue leggings are hanging off a handle of her wardrobe. She stops thumping the ball and grabs the clothes.
"Make sure you have a play bag packed." I say, closing the door behind me.

I walk down the hall to the green door with pink flowers on it.
"Kateri, are you ready, sweetheart?"
I open the door to see Alex's twin sitting at her vanity, putting a fifth pastel barrette in her light brown hair.
"Almost Mommy!"
She finishes with a sixth barrette, then runs over for inspection. She wears a pastel striped polo dress with white tights. My six year old has a better sense of style then I ever did, with the exception of the hair she looks totally perfect.
"Good job, Kat. Make sure you have a play bag packed."
"Can I bring Madame Roxy?"
"Of course."
"Thanks Mommy!"

She grabs her stuffed fox and starts packing the rest of her quiet toys in a pastel green tote bag.I close the door and head down to the basement. I open the door to my home office and I grab my cell off the charger. I stop for a second and look around. All my diplomas hang on the wall. Including my High School one. Dated 20 years ago, today. Oh how times have changed. I moved away, granted only a couple hours, but still away. I'm married with six-year-old twins, that are going to start First Grade in September. I have lived in Europe for eight years. I home schooled my girls. I took off my job as an attorney for New York State. And now I'm going back to the place where I spent four years of my life.

I head back upstairs and find the girls arguing over the usual family road-trip issue: where are we going?
"We're goin' to see Auntie Aya!" Kat pounds her foot on the ground.
"Na-uh!" Alex shakes her head so hard that her half-brushed hair whips both sides of her face.
"Yes we are!"
"No we're not!"
"Mommy! Tell Alex I'm right, we're goin' to Auntie Aya's house and you have a meeting!"
"Mommy will agree with me. We're going to go to a fun place with Tally and Sofie and Devon and Jimmy and Kyle and Pat and Angie!"
"You forgot Danielle." Kat sneers.

"Stop it, girls. Neither of you are correct. We are going to a reunion. Daddy and I will drop you off and Grandma and Grandpa Brown's and then we'll be going to a grown up event."
"But I thought we were going to Auntie Aya's." Kat looks at me with sad, downcast eyes.
"That's next week, darling. And we're going with Tally and her family next month. So you were both close."

As if on cue, Tally and her eleven year old son Devon walk in. Tally lives next door now, and her kids are practically my kids. And she feels the same way about my girls. We always do things together. And today is no exception.
"Our lot is almost ready." she says.
"Same here."
"Are we all taking the bus, or are we taking separate vans?"
I take a quick look at the girls, and at Devon, who is probably the only one of Tally's kids that is actually ready.
"We can take the bus." I say, grabbing my black high heels off the shoe rack in the hall.

"I'll tell Jimmy to load 'em up!"
"Grab Brian, too. I think I sent him to pack up the van."
"Sure."

"Girls, let me see your bags." Kat comes up first, her stuffed fox dressed in a pink tie dye sun dress and white bejeweled sandals is tucked under her arm. Kat also packed her tablet, a white sweater, and a smaller bag for Madame Roxy.
"good job. And Alex?" I turn to find Alex holding her stuffed penguin: Skippy Puff. The plush is dressed in a black tank that reads 'Rock!!!' and a red lace skirt, no shoes for the little bird's feet. Alex has a blue backpack that hold her tablet and three packs of gum in various flavors, plus her lucky sea shell on a black leather string.
"Does Skippy want to wear the shell today?"
"Yes, but I'm not going to put it on until we get to Grandma's house."
"OK, sweety."
"Everyone ready?" Bryna calls in.
 "Looks like it." I say, getting the girls' shoes: white sandals for Kat and black flats for Alex.

The four of us file out to find Tally's husband in the driver's seat of the re purposed Shaffer bus we use for family vacations together. Tally holds her sleeping newborn daughter, Angie.
"Am I on baby duty, or rodeo?" Bryan asks, as I buckle the girls into their seats. Kat on the interior of one side, Alex on the exterior across the aisle, Madame Roxy (the stuffed Fox) is buckled next to Kat and Skippy Puff shares a seat with Alex.
"Rodeo." Tally sighs, sitting in the front seat as Angie starts to wake up.

Three minutes later,  Tally's kids start coming out. All of them have jet black hair, just like Tally And Jimmy, but they all have different types of hair and eyes. Devon, the oldest, has straight hair and droopy brown eyes. He sits behind his father, directly across from Tally. Then come Kyle and Danielle, eight and ten respectively. Both have curly black hair. But Kyle has striking green eyes and Danielle has sparkling blue. Sofie bounces on, her hair is both curly and straight and wavy. Just a hot mess.

That's what we always say. Sofie, little six-year-old Sofie, is just one jumble of features. the most obvious are her eyes: one is hazel, the other is such a pale blue that it almost looks white. She also has a birthmark on her arm that looks, vaguely, like a dragon. She wears a yellow tank with a matching tutu, yellow-and-purple stripped socks, and yellow lady bug rain boots. She carries a yellow dragon, Lady Bye-Bye Gone the Zippy, to be exact.

"Sofie, sit next to me!" Alex tries to jump up, but is held down by her seat belt. Sofie and Bye-Bye share the window seat next to Alex. They start discussing what school will be like in September. They fantasize about large hallways and classrooms full of kids their own age.

finally Brian comes back out, pushing Pat in his wheelchair. The casts on his arm and leg glow neon green in the overcast light, the remnants of the skiing accident.
"Everyone ready?" Brian asks, getting four-year-old Pat situated in one of the beds in the back of the bus.
Devon nods. Sofie and Alex have a contest of who-can-shout-ready-louder. Danielle mumbles and answer, and texts rapidly. Pat squeaks "ready!" and pulls out his tablet to play a video game. Kyle says ready and pulls out his summer math assignment on a table next to Pat's bed. Angie cries, and Tally gets ready to nurse her.
"Ready when you are." Jimmy calls from the front seat, giving us the thumbs up. Brian sits next to Devon, and we pull out of the driveway.

I settle into a seat in the back, and pull out my phone. I call back my assistant, Courtney.
About three hours later we pull up to my parents' house in Yaturkville, New York.

"Grandma! Grandpa!" Alex and Kat jump off the bus and sprint into my parents' outstretched arms.
"We'll see you tomorrow after dinner!" Tally calls as she drives away.
"Kat, Alex, Mommy and I will be back after bed time."
The girls don't even care. They run into the house, my parents' right behind them. My Mom pokes her head and arm back out to throw me the keys to the jeep. Brian and I hop in and drive the remaining twenty minutes to my Alma mater: Magnus Catholic Central High School.

We arrive in time to check in with my former Senior Class Secretary. She used to be a cheerleader and a really popular girl. Now she's thin, but obviously diets, a lot. She organized this whole event. The Class Treasurer guides Brian and I to our table in the cafeteria. Brian and I are the first to fill the eight empty seats at the table. But three minutes later i recognize a face.
"Fiona?"
"Yeah..." she reads my name tag, "Ashley, we were in home room together Senior year, right?"
"Exactly. And, Oh my God! You married Liam?"
"Hey, Ashley!" He raises his arm. He wears a navy blue Air Force blazer, with a silver insignia on the sleeve, and medals pinned to his chest.
"Wow. how have you guys been?"
"Great. We have a son now, Skye. He's two." Fiona says, sitting at the table. "and it looks like we've missed a lot from you." she nods at Brian.
"This is my husband, Brian. We have twin six-year-old girls, Kateri and Alexis."

We pull out pictures of our kids, and more people come to the table. Next, the remaining four people get to our table together. Katelyn, who married our Valedictorian Michael. And Rachel, who married a journalist from Rome.
"Katelyn!" Fiona jumps up and hugs her friend, while Michael shakes Liam's hand.
"Rach Face! You're preggers!" I can't help myself. I've seen Rachel a few times since high school. We stayed in touch throughout college, but when I had the girls I lost touch with most of my old friends. Rach and I would still touch base occasionally, but she was always travelling.
"Ash!" Her baby bump presses in my abdomen as we hug.
"Well don't crush him." I say pulling away and checking out the bump, "Boy or girl?"
"We want it to be a surprise." Katelyn and Fiona each hug Rachel, then we all sit down. Our husbands awkwardly exchange hand shakes and start their own conversations.

The women exchange picture of our kids. Fiona shows pictures of Skye in the plane with Liam, and talks about how they're hoping Skye will have a little brother or sister soon. Katelyn talks about her kids, three of them. And Rachel shares about her older daughter, Cosette, a Haitian orphan she adopted two years ago. Then our old class President gets up at the podium at the front of the room. His thick Nigerian accent seems stronger now than it was when we were in high school.

I look around the room and realize that most people haven't changed too much. All of the kids that were in New Visions are successful doctors, just like they wanted. There are a smattering of old faces that stand out. Jenna, her black skin looking dull stretched over obvious plastic surgery, is wearing a dress that looks more like a lime green tube top stretched over her butt. Christa is at the door. I recognize her only from the few times I've been on twitter recently. She has tattoos up and down her arms, but she looks nice in a sequence off the shoulder top and a black skirt.

"You can't come in." the squeaky voice of our former vice principal says, grabbing Christy's arm.
"Why not?" She is less defiant now, more of a genuine question.
"You were banned from school activities!"
"That was twenty years ago!"

I stop paying attention after Christa's brother stumbles in and screams drunken slurs at half the audience. Christa picks up whats left of her dignity and storms out, dragging her brother out like a man predicting the Apocalypse on a city corner.

I decide to check the old stage. It probably hasn't changed too much, but I have to see it. Some of my fondest memories are on that stage. Opening night of every performance, getting my diploma, Brian and I sneaking away for a secret kiss during Post Prom Party. Not to mention all of the singing. All the chorus trips i took for competition. All those memories are on this stage. I walk into the gym and up the five stairs to the stage. It feels only right to walk through the center of the curtains. I grab a bit of the purple crushed velvet with each hand, and pull back.

It doesn't completely surprise me, but I am a little shocked to see all the old "theater kids" gathered on the stage. Nadine, who went to the same college I did, and now works for the EPA. Rachel, who is sitting criss-cross on the floor staring at the place where we all signed our names. Jake stands by the loading door. He smokes a cigarette, something I never would have thought he'd do; but he also has a hand on a man's waist. I vaguely recognize him. His name was Kyle Gibson. He never went to our school, but I met him when I ran into Jake at a meeting in New York.

I take in the surrounding, then music starts playing in the band room. We open the doors and see Vince on the piano.
"Manche!" he exclaims when he sees me. The he shouts greetings to the rest as we all file in. After a few moments of murmuring to each other, Vince plays again. It's a song we all knew. I feel like we knew it a little too well. But all eight of us start singing. Vince remembers the music after so many years. his white spidery hands dance on the keys and none of us can stop singing.

Once the song ends and we all catch our breaths, we laugh. We laugh and cry and talk. Pretty soon our spouses find us. I find out that Jake really was gay the whole time we were in high school together, including the time I had to play his wife. I learn more about my friends now than i ever did. But at the end, we all leave. We exchange numbers, knowing full well that we will never use them.

But that's what a reunion is for. You can relive those sweetest of memories and then forget them all over again. You can move on with life, knowing that you moved past high school. A reunion is a time for you to realize that, yeah everyone didn't end up exactly where they wanted to be. maybe some people did better than others, and maybe you found out that you didn't amount to a total loser. A reunion is that time you spend every few decades reminding yourself that 'hey, least I'm not as bad as so-and-so.'

So have fun in high school, but remember that it is no more than a chapter in your life. A crazy chapter, but not the most important. And certainly not the climax, or even a major plot point, in the large book that is your life.

Ciao!

A Writing Exercise

So guys, I'm pretty damn proud of this. I wrote this story as a writing sample for a college thing. It has a 250 word limit and I was able to do it! So let me know what you think.

Your body is shaking. You look to the others backstage; they all have a determined kind of fear in their eyes. And the ones that don’t, well they’re going to look like deer caught in headlights as soon as they walk on that stage. The music strikes again. The chorus files out.

            You crouch down, your feet and ankles throb in your black character shoes. Your husband’s face is buried in his hands, and he’s hitting himself lightly on the head with his cane. You try to look him in the eye, but his are closed and he turned away when you bent over. You put your hand in-between the cane and his head.

            He stops and stares at you. You see that he is beyond embarrassed. You two share a conversation that is half in whispers and the other half is mouthing the words.

            “I screwed up.” He says, “Stupid, stupid, stupid!” he starts with the cane again. You grab it again, this time you put your hand over his.

            “No one will notice.”

            “But the line...”

            “No one knows but us.”

            You hug him; he accepts. Standing, you smile. He smiles back and you walk on stage arm in arm. The audience roars with applause, and you get a standing ovation.

            When the curtain closes, neither of you have to say it, but you both do.

            “What an amazing opening night!”

A Little More About Me.

So guys I know I haven't posted in a while, but my eighteenth birthday was a few days ago and I was celebrating. Plus I have midterms in a couple weeks, so I have been studying my brains out. Anyways, last night I saw an old friend of mine and it got me thinking about friendship and how certain people just define you, so let's take another walk through my crooked psyche and find what we can find. Shall we?

So there's this girl, let's call her... Tally. Now Tally and I have been friends for three years, but it feels more like 30. She's one year older than me. So she plays college basketball this year for a D1 school. She is the most wonderful person ever. I love her. She is my best friend. But her school is far away, well not that far away. She's about 4-6 hours away (depending on traffic). But that is just too far away. I miss her so much.  So this week I saw her.

I went to her basketball game, but here's the thing....she's been red-shirtted for the season. that basically means that she can't play this year, but that she still goes to every game and practice. My Dad and I were driving to the game and my Dad asks:
"So what position does she play?"
(first off: I couldn't tell you even if she was playing, I'm a writer, not a sports enthusiast).
So I say:
"Oh! She doesn't actually play. She's been red-shirtted."
"You mean we're paying 8 bucks a piece to watch her sit on a bench for two hours?"
"No... we're paying 8 bucks a piece to watch her sit in a chair for two hours."

P.S. There are no physical benches at the local college, the teams sit in chairs on the floor. My father didn't find this as funny as I did. And the game was only about an hour.

We went to the game and out of the roughly 60 fans in the events center about 20 of us were there for Tally...who was on the opposing team.... not even playing. So the end of the game came and Tally was able to break away from her team for a few minutes. I got to give her a hug and that was all I needed.

Let me explain something to you: I have very few friends. Tally is more than a friend, she is my sister (not biologically, but in that sense of we are so close that we might as well be). The friends that I have are, for the most part, nice. But I'm sure everyone out there on the internet knows what I'm talking about when I say Tally is my best friend. I could have a thousand friends, a million. And none of them would mean as much to me as Tally does.

I think that's important. to have at least one person that you really can trust. I will say that I have had one boyfriend my entire life. I mention this because I can honestly say that I did not love him. And any moment that i thought I might love him, it was puppy love. Nothing more than a feeling of meaning something to someone, that was my relationship. That is my relationship with pretty much everybody. But with Tally, i really love her. Not in the romantic way, more in the "if you get murdered I will seriously miss your funeral because I will be in jail for killing the bastard" kind of way. That is true friendship.