The Writers Studio, Level 2, Assignment #4 June 9, 2008
Preamble: 1st person narrator revealing themselves. Narrator interacts with a character that represents a path not taken. Use scene to convey mood (not so good here). Switching genders for story impact.
Independence Day
Fireworks went up like kamikaze rockets. One after another. They are born. Rise up to great heights. Then disintegrate into a million pieces falling into nothingness. All in a flash. Spectacular lemmings, all of them. I finally was invited to my boss’ 4th of July party. Working 60 plus hour weeks at last got some approval. It wasn’t too long ago when I first sat in her office. Staring at her marathon memorabilia on her wall. In awe of the woman portrayed in that office. Her demeanor. Her confidence. Her self-esteem. The many accomplishments. It was right there when I found my vision. I soon styled my hair just like her. I would have dyed it the same shade but my skin color didn’t match. She is so lucky. I have learned so much. “Follow a higher standard.” “Behave like you are better than other people and you will be treated that way.” She doesn’t say this but she does. And her clothes. I longed to be able to afford those same designer labels. In the mean time I have worked on my figure. Those styles weren’t designed for just any ole body. But a sleek, sexy one. Having dropped a dress size in three months, I was almost there. My husband sure approved. Speaking of which, I wonder what happened to her boyfriend. They seemed so good together. Then all of a sudden, she stopped talking about him. And that was that. He must not have been good enough for her. I strangely felt myself thinking I deserve someone better than my beloved Bobby. She hinted at his awkwardness and seeming to be out of place when mixing with the other executives and their partners. But then I come home after a very hard day greeted by a massage or flowers. He stares into me with those loving eyes, and those thoughts melt into oblivion.
It is during one of my particularly grueling weeks that I realize how incredible she is. I send out my completed project late Saturday nite. Then get a detailed reply an hour later! Such dedication and commitment. Such excellence. I must push myself harder. When she was my age she was already Vice President. At 41 she has a good 10 years on most CEOs. I didn’t put up enough of a fight once and she questioned my self-esteem. That caused me to really examine myself. I am so blessed to have her as my mentor. She cares about me on the deepest of levels.
Fireworks. Visiting her house made my own house seem like a sty. There was not a single personal effect on any surface in her entire 3 story house. I suspect it is like that all the time. It’s easier when you don’t have kids I suppose. Which brings me to my main issue. How do I tell her I may never return from my maternity leave? Life is grand.
Dripping with delicious irony. Delicious 2nd-to-last line!!! But please! Loose the last line! After the previous line, there is nothing more to be said. That line is like an unexpected slap in the face, and what usually follows an unexpected slap in the face is a stunned, awkward silence. Which is what should folllow that line…
So much mood pact into the opening line descriptions of the fireworks. Great job.
Fascinating to me the whole gender -switching exercise, because while all the “correct” elements are in place that are needed to describe the female’s experience (dropping the dress size, etc), it is impossible to shake a very masculine feel to the mood and descriptions, esp the fireworks etc.
Thanks Mark. You refer to the “Life is grand.” line? Did anyone get the analogy between the fireworks (futile lemmings) and the boss’ goals/values? Maybe it is too weak…