Tales From Fiction Writing Class

Tales from fiction writing class

Create a scene using details and imagery to convey a feeling without stating it directly, use like dialog.

"I'm just trying to help you. You ‘re going to go to Hell."

My throat dried out. It felt like those mornings after I had smoked a couple of Menthols 100s the night before while drunk at some bar. My nose was starting to burn as well, like when you're underwater and you breathe in. Caleb seemed to notice my discomfort after a moment.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. Just ... I'm sorry."

The lights in the restaurant seemed too bright all of a sudden. The other customers all seemed to be too happy to be real people. Even the glass of water next to me looks too pretty to drink. It's probably from the tap, filled with iron and rust particles. Drinking anything in this place sounded awful. 

Silence set in then. My eyes wandered over to the tables that surrounded us. There was a man in a suit with a bolo tie that didn’t like his salad but still eating it. A ceiling fixture on the opposite wall had an overlooked cobweb on it. A woman sitting a bit away wore a pretty summer dress with a pair of black and white Adidas sneakers, looking cute and quirky.

I heard Caleb start to talk again, but I continued to stare at her shoes." I think once you start going to worship with my family you'll really like it. The people there are so welcoming and nice. You know it kinda hurts my feelings that you won't even try to come just once." I wish I was cute and quirky.

The woman noticed me staring at her then and gave me a rude look. I slowly turned my body forward in the chair as my stomach contoured into a painful ball. Caleb was looking away now, but he felt my eyes on him. He took a deep breath and put on a forced smile before looking at me again.

“I got you something." He pulled a red jewelry box out of his pants pocket and slide it over to my side of the table. "Happy six months." The piano music was now very melancholy yet it hadn't changed keys. His hands started shaking a bit. He wanted me to explode into a smile and kiss him passionately, then he’d feel better.

"Uh… here." He reaches over and opens the box. It was a small heart pendant encrusted with three white diamonds. The one that’s super popular with many women right now. The one that his sister had flaunted at me two months ago over dinner and I had pretended to love out of politeness.

I should rub my eyes, but then I'll smear my makeup and it'll get in my contacts and it'll look like I'm crying and I'm not crying.

"Please say something."

“I don't feel well,” a hoarse voice says.

He has a look on his face. One I can't name, but I know it well. The one some old classmates I don't talk to anymore had. The one a street preacher had when he yelled at me for wearing a skirt. It seems a lot of people have this look. An old roommate had it. The cashier at Walmart. My mom. 

“You’ll feel better after you eat.”

A poem I wrote by picking the middle word my phone suggested

Idk why Dumbledore is a man who has been in a relationship for the weekend and I had a lot to talk to you

And you were all the best and the other guy who was the one who had to go out there for 20yrs to get dinner together for the first year

And I wanna be there for you and you can help us with that right here in a minute

Please

Thank yoooo and thank yoooo and hope for a great day to see endgame and the secular nature that is not a great idea

but it doesn't matter how long is there for you and your child and you are a great man threw away a few things you don't want but I have a final question for the next few hours before the game was done

To the play of a connection with a consontr or something that would have made it better to have a final round and the next one was a bit more of the game

I think its ok for me and I had a lot to do something about the team that I was in the game with a team of players who is going through poetry with a concentration camp that has a great reputation

And I had to do something about the world.

my soul feels sick and i wish i knew what to do

Oh, my darling. I know you are not a Cathedral, but you’re no less holy.

- Unused bits from a never-finished book

What are three things you’ve learnt about love?

1. Love is abundant and comes in many forms: No matter how many times I’ve lost love, I’ve been able to find it again. There is no ‘one true love’ we are ever-changing and as such, so is the type of love we seek. My vision of true love has shifted from what it was 3 years ago, but it doesn’t make the love I’ve found at that time invalid, it just makes it different.

2. It’d be a crime to restrict myself to romantic love: Finding love in myself, my family, friends, career, passions, my community, and my people has made me into more of a well rounded individual.

3. Love isn’t supposed to hurt: Heartbreak is an unfortunate risk factor when loving and being vulnerable and I’ve personally found ways to embrace that. However, hurting while in a relationship is not normal and shouldn’t be thought of as a consequence. Love is warm, comforting, happy, and fun. There’s this idea that real love hurts, that the initial amazing feelings are just a honeymoon phase but I completely reject that. You should never have to withstand great pain in love. This isn’t in regards to conflict or overcoming obstacles as a couple, it’s about being severely hurt by your partner. That is not just an obstacle.

I started riding the bus on Saturday nights

I started riding the bus on Saturday nights after you left. 

When the bus driver asked me where I would get off I told him the mall but I had no intention to. I would just ride around in circles, listening to music, and stare out the window at the buildings bathed in the night light. 

I don't know why you affected me so much. I'd like to say it's because I gave you my virginity, but I'd be lying. 

Maybe I just like the bus. Being there in the darkest, sitting in the silence, it’s almost felt like meditating.