LITR 3731: Creative Writing
Student Fiction Submission 2005
Karen
Daniel
The
Winner
The longer I sat on the hot, metal bleachers, the warmer the evening
seemed to get. Typical of Texas in late May, the weather was stifling.
The crowd grew in size as the time for the ceremony grew closer.
I tried to make light conversation with the people who stopped to say hi
to me, most of them former classmates of my husband from long ago.
I knew that, as alumni of the high school in which we were all gathered,
they would have a special feeling of nostalgia tonight.
I stared at the newly covered track, glistening with the colors of the
school. I had spent countless hours
and evenings watching my daughter compete here, running sprints and races with a
speed that sometimes amazed me. Of
all the coaches she has had over the years, the track coach is my favorite,
always putting the kids in front of the win.
As
I sat waiting, my mind began to wander back in time to the evening of her first
race, her first victory, and what would be the first of many accomplishments in
her young life. It all seemed
so long ago, as far away as the city in which it all began.
*
*
*
We walked slowly, weaving through the throngs of carnival goers, careful
to avoid a collision between the distracted crowd and our dark gray and red
stroller where our one-year-old Therese slept restlessly.
She had never liked the
confinement of a moving vehicle of any kind, making a lie out of the advice
given to all new parents that the way to calm a cranky baby was to take them for
a long car ride. She was a mover
and a shaker, already making her mark on the world with her refusal to be
confined or strapped into anything. Of
course, my arms were another matter, as I never seemed to have a free moment to
myself without the weight of my second daughter dragging me down.
My husband touched my shoulder.
"I'll be right back," he said with a grin.
As usual, he could not resist the booths advertising pretzels and cotton
candy. He could be so much like a
kid himself.
"Hurry up, okay?"
"Sure, I know you can't live without me."
His sarcasm was not without truth. It
was hard to keep track of both kids without him near me!
My six-year-old ran ahead, dizzy with the excitement of the lights and
bells and the call of the carnies. The
opposite of her clingy sister, Christina was a traveler, always running off on
some adventure, causing me a different sort of exhaustion as she refused to even
hold my hand, let alone let me carry her slight figure that made her look much
younger than she really was. In her
pink shorts and white tank top, she ran away, ignoring my instructions to hold
onto the side of her sister's stroller, safely within my reach.
Just
as I was trying to decide whether to hold onto the stroller, and keep the crowd
from jostling it, or to run after my older daughter before she could disappear
forever between the unending masses of people, I saw my husband approaching. He
was laughing at the confusion and frustration he could so easily read on my
face.
"I
sure hope that pretzel was worth it babe! You
want to go and get your daughter before she finds a sideshow to join?"
Still
laughing at my question, he jogged off; easily overtaking her, and admonishing
her softly, brought her back within my reach.
It
had seemed like such a great idea to bring my young family to the annual fair
that I had loved for so many years. I
was quickly beginning to second-guess my decision as my irritation mounted, and
my always-cheerful husband began to get on my nerves with his laid back reaction
to the idea of losing my precocious eldest daughter.
His annoying calmness was in sharp contrast to Christina's constant
chatter.
"Mommy,
can we get some cotton candy?"
"Mommy,
can I play this game?"
"Mommy,
can I go on this ride?"
Geez,
hadn't daddy been her first word? Why
was it all directed at me?
I
knew I was being totally unreasonable. I
was still young enough at 23 to remember how it felt to be a kid at the fair,
showing my animals and trying to lose my parents so I could hang out with my
friends.
A lot of my irritation came from the fact that I needed to get out of the
sun. Sweat was beading on my
forehead and soaking through my faded blue jean shorts and my Hard Rock Café
tee shirt. We had barely walked
through the gate before the heat had begun to overwhelm me.
How my husband could walk around in Wranglers, a flannel shirt, and work
boots was beyond my comprehension. I
thought I was going to faint in the balmy Southern California, July weather,
still in the 90's at 7:30 p.m.
"Can we please go find some place to sit down in the shade and rest
before I totally come unglued?" I
asked pleadingly.
"Sure babe, lets go see what the crowd in that tent up there is.
At least we will be in the shade and maybe you can chill out."
I
knew he was making fun of me with his subtle word play and smiled grimly as I
followed him to the red and white striped, covered pavilion next to the radio
station kiosk, the letter KCBQ loudly painted in neon colors on the black
background of the bus. As we grew
closer, loud pop music suddenly blared out of the massive speakers set up on the
walkway.
"Just
great" I muttered as my sleeping angel suddenly erupted into a ball of
screaming, red-faced, angry baby! Picking
her up, I held her close and covered her ears as I continued to follow Thomas up
the walk, into the tent and into the shaded refuge that was our goal.
At least now, my six-year-old would have something to amuse her.
She seemed to have developed a penchant for torturing her younger sister.
The sisterly bond and love I had imagined as she had so anxiously awaited
the birth of her first sibling had not panned out.
She seemed to be perpetually jealous of her needy baby sister, and I had
begun to notice the pleasure she seemed to take in Therese's distress.
Perhaps
if I could put her sister down for more than half an hour I could give her more
attention, but at this point, that seemed a distant dream.
"Look
Mom! Look Dad! It is a race for
babies. Can we enter Therese?
Pleeeeese!!!!"
"Wow, check this out. It's
a baby diaper derby. I'll bet my
Wobbles could easily beat all of these kids.
What do you think babe? Should
I enter her?"
I laughed at his use of Therese's pet name.
"You are going to be calling her that when she is 25 years old and
walking down the aisle at her wedding!"
"You got that right. She
will probably still be wobbling around then if she doesn't start to walk
soon."
I laughed uneasily at his reference to our only real concern about our
youngest daughter. Her doctor assured us that she would start to walk when she
was ready, but it seemed to be taking an extra long time, and I worried about it
as I watched my friends' babies walk at nine months.
"Sure, go and sign her up. She
is probably the oldest baby here and all we have to do is sit at the finish line
and let her sister hold her at the starting line.
She will be out of the blocks so fast the other kids won't stand a
chance. God forbid she should be more than a foot away from me for
more than 30 seconds!"
I watched as he walked up to the registration table, glancing at the
towering display of Huggies diapers stacked precariously on the stage.
I was a little bit uneasy about entering her.
As competitive as I was I never liked to lose, and watching one of my
children compete was just as nerve-wracking as competing myself.
My husband returned carrying a card with the number five scribbled darkly
upon it. This certainly didn’t
appear to be any big deal. I would
pacify Christina by letting Therese crawl down the bright green, white striped,
indoor-outdoor carpeting placed under the awning that we had come to, seeking
shade. Then we could be on our way, perhaps taking the kids to ride
on my favorite carnival attraction, the carousel.
As we waited with the rest of the hopeful parents for the beginning of
the derby to be called, Therese suddenly stood up, laughing and taking one,
precious, precarious step. My heart
fluttered excitedly, and then……….
“No!!!!!!!! Don’t walk
now!” I cried.
Therese fell on her bottom, crying in confusion, the proud look of a
moment before disappearing as her face fell.
“Oh baby, it’s alright. Let
Mommy hold you for now.” I
wondered if I was some horrible parent, holding my baby just to keep her from
finally walking for the selfish motivation of winning a stupid race!
Just then, a man approached, telling all of us that the fun was about to
begin. Therese was hardly in a good
mood, but this could work in our favor. If
she were crying, she would really be a momma’s girl and come running, or
rather crawling, to me as fast as her chubby little legs would carry her.
As we approached lane five, I realized that my petite little angel was
sandwiched between two burly baby boys. How
would she ever compete? They would
probably gang up and roll her before she could get out of the blocks!
I handed her to her sister, her piercing screams of protest instantly
attracting the attention of anyone within the confines of the mile around the
tent! Thomas and I walked,
laughing, to the other end of the lane. It
sure seemed to be taking a long time for the race to start.
Poor Christina was struggling to hold her screaming sister, and I could
tell her virtually non-existent patience was wearing thin.
Just
then, the man announced, “Crawlers, take your mark!” A loud buzzer blared and the babies began crawling all over
the place. The two boys that had
been on both sides of my daughter sat up, staring at each other and laughing.
Another little baby girl crawled in circles, ignoring the cries of her
Daddy at the finish line, smiling at her desperate mother who tried to encourage
her to “go see Daddy.” The rest of them, ten in all, seemed to be crawling with no
particular purpose, confused by all of the noise and the yelling of the crowd
that had gathered.
But not Therese! She took
one look at her sister and never looked back, crawling as fast as possible, a
determined look on her face. She
wanted her Mommy! I groaned, as
five or six feet before the finish line she stopped, sitting up and waving to
the crowd.
“Oh
no!” She was so enthralled by the
attention that she wanted the cheers of the crowd more than the safety of my
arms. I sighed in relief as,
laughing gleefully, she lunged towards my waiting arms, and the infamy of the
winners’ circle.
Thomas grabbed her up, swinging her around excitedly.
We walked to the stage, knowing that the bright blue ribbon, and shiny
silver cup, were to be the concrete proof we would need to brag to the world
about the superiority of our daughter. Christina
ran up, grabbing her sister’s hand, and looking at the ribbon with wonder and
envy. As we received the prizes,
took pictures, and began to walk happily away, the man stopped us.
“How are you planning to take these home?”
“Take what home?” Thomas
asked.
“The years supply of diapers.”
My heart jumped with joy as I looked with awe at the tower of diapers
that decorated the stage in front of me. Not
only was my daughter the best baby in all of San Diego county, she had earned a
prize that would help to relieve the serious financial strain we had found
ourselves under since I had quit my job to stay home with my children!
I put Therese down on the mat to write down our contact information and
watched her stand up, take a couple of wobbly steps, and walk happily towards
her smiling sister.
*
*
*
The sun was just setting in the sky as I sat and watched Therese stand,
taking a couple of unsteady steps, before walking confidently up the green
carpet to the stage where her principal waited to hand her the paper that had
been 13 years in the making. I knew
that rather than crawl towards her parents she would forever be walking in her
own direction from now on. Just
like 17 years ago, I was torn between the happiness of watching her walk, and
the desire to see her sit and crawl, forever in the safety of my reach.
She looked up at me in the bleachers, and smiling brightly, walked away.
Draft
Exchange Report
Author's
report on draft exchange process:
Since some of us have been sending drafts to each as a group, I just sent
the original draft out to our circle, asking for advice and feedback from any of
them who could send it. I
particularly asked Audra for feedback since we are required to include her in
our exchange. I was really anxious
to get feedback as I have never written a story of any kind before, and was
afraid this personal adaptation would be boring to other people.
Unfortunately, most of the feedback I received was flattering but not
very helpful. Most of the
respondents, including Audra, simply told me that they loved it and not to
change anything. Jennifer was the
only one who originally responded in a useful way, and her comments and
suggestions were a great help. Andrea
also made some small suggestions to me that helped the flow of the paper. Later, Sherry sent me a wonderful exchange that helped me to
finalize my draft.
I was much happier with my story after receiving the feedback that I got
from the class and thought the suggestions that were made helped to make the
story stronger. I made use of a lot
of them, sometimes after clarifying what the readers were actually suggesting.
First
reader's feedback
Jennifer
Jones:
Karen
Very
nice work!!!!! I love it!!! I'm sending it back with a couple things
highlighted in green. I do have one suggestion though. I like the
jump forward to graduation at the end, but I was wondering if you could put
something at the beginning about the graduation too. Like maybe the mom
is sitting there, waiting for the event to start or watching her daughter
and thinking back to that day at the carnival. Then go into the carnival
thing, and end with the same ending at the graduation. Does that make
sense? That is such a sweet story. You captured the moment
perfectly. I felt like I was there and experiencing it, which is exactly
what you want a reader to do. :) Well done!!
Jennifer
My
response:
Thanks
Jennifer! I am just thrilled that people seem to like it. I
have never written any sort of story before. It was sort of fun.
I thought some about opening at the graduation but I really can't think
of how to do it. Any suggestions? Maybe just sitting and describing
the atmosphere or the physical surroundings like I do at the opening of this
one?
Thanks,
Karen
Jennifer's
response back:
Yea,
like, describe the surroundings, the uncomfortable chairs, etc., looking over at the
daughter, how she looks (physically and emotionally - is she nervous? does she
look excited?), what it took for her to get here, thinking back on her
childhood in reverse. how fast it went by, high school was a blur, ...
blah blah.. or she's always been a winner, like when she played sports or a
musical instrument in high school and won the spelling bee in junior high
and excelled in something else (dance or little league) in elementary school... "As
I sit here and reminisce about my daughter, I especially remember when she set
the precedent for the rest of her childhood." You could write
that line better than me, but I'm just trying to give you an idea. :) Well, I
hope this helps. Your story is really great and I can't imagine you not
getting an A on it just the way it is. I think you could get it published
in a literary magazine. Seriously. :) I hope you don't give up
on it because there are plenty of people that would get enjoyment from it.
See
ya Monday,
Jennifer
Second
reader's feedback
Sherry
Mann:
Hey
Karen,
I
offered several comments and suggestions throughout your paper. The stuff
highlighted in blue meant that I really liked it. If it's in green, there's
either a confusion or some sort of problem I came across. The stuff in yellow
and bold are my explanations, and I gave some more insight at the end. Good
luck! And nice paper by the way. If you have any further questions, let me know.
(feedback
within the story)
I
really enjoyed reading this. It was interesting how you built up to the
climactic action. I feel like a dork saying this, but it almost gave me chills
when I got towards the end of your paper because it was getting so good. You
were almost in danger of losing the reader at the beginning, but it was a nice
contrast in how you were feeling at the fair from the beginning to the end. The
pace really picked up quick when the idea of the derby race approached. However,
on the note of the possibility of losing your reader at the beginning, you may
want to try adding a little more dialogue but not much. I highlighted sentences
in blue that either livened your writing, it was a good description, the wording
was nicely constructed, or I just simply liked it. If you give a little more of
these kinds of narration or dialogue at the beginning, your paper is well on its
way.
Sherry
Mann
My
response:
Sherry,
Okay,
I am a little confused about where I give the impression that the narrator's
name is Therese. I realized that I never named the narrator, they are just
"babe" and "mommy" etc...However, somewhere I must give
you that impression and I need to fix that. I am going to change the first
two sentences to make it clearer that it is the baby's name. Will
that fix it? I am worried if you got it from somewhere else it may add to
the confusion!
Sherry's
response back:
Karen,
Yes,
that should fix it. I got confused from just the part I mentioned. Now that I
look back, I can see that that was the baby you intended to describe, but it was
that one phrase that led me to think that maybe you were describing the narrator or
someone else. When I thought that it could have been the narrator that you were
trying to describe, I was thinking you made a mistake and forgot to write the
word "I" to keep it in first person.
Feedback
from additional readers
Audra
Caldwell:
Ok
, I have to admit you got a tear at the end. Great Job. I was especially able to
relate to the mother about the safety of mommy’s arms.
I loved the story and could feel every feeling the mother was having and
every reaction the father was having. Very realistic and true. I did not think
it was boring at all. Great job. Don’t change a thing. ~Audra.
Andrea
Cox:
Karen, you understand this all
too well. I was just saying to my husband last night can't the girls say
daddy. It was driving me crazy while I was trying to study and get some
relaxation.
Story time: what is the
difference between mover/shaker and running off on your own adventure? You said
the kids were different. That is just a question for my own benefit because I
didn't know.
third paragraph you say my
daughter-could you change that to our daughter or even better your daughter and
use the all mighty sentence why is it when she is doing something wrong she is
my daughter or some such.Mary Kay will catch this: take out That in paragraph
five/six where is says "the problem is that I" it flows better.The
story pace/content/interest is fantastic. I couldn't see a very good turn out
for the mother's day and saw all kinds of grumpiness, but it turned around.
It had drama and comedy and kept the interest as I read. I take it this
has happened to you and that time seems to fly when you watch your children
grow. It was a terrific short story.
Andrea
My
response:
Thanks so
much Andrea. Yes this was a
personal experience that actually happened over a one month time period, but how
boring would that sound! Thanks for
the wording suggestions, I think they really improve the flow of the paper.
What I meant about them being different is that one of them wants to be
near me all the time, while the other one is always running away.
(They are still like that today!)
Lindsay
Niemann:
Hi
Karen,
I
found your story very entertaining. It wasn't boring at all, and I loved the
end. Your description and dialogue worked really well. I
felt like I was at the fair, sweating along with you and watching the crawling
contest. It was a humorous and heartfelt story.
My
final comments on outcomes and lessons of draft exchange
I think the two main changes to my story as a result of the draft
exchanges were improving the flow and producing a better link between the
beginning of the story and the end. Adding
the section at the beginning about sitting and waiting for "the
ceremony" to begin, without actually stating that it was a graduation, was
difficult, but I think it really adds to the story.
I did not want to say at the beginning that I was at a graduation
ceremony, but putting this part in takes away some of the "surprise"
at the end that could throw a reader off. Also,
Sherry's suggestion to add some dialog in nearer to the beginning made a lot of
sense, and took away from what might have been boring narrative.
I was a little frustrated at the start at the lack of helpful
suggestions. While I was glad that
a lot of people liked the story a lot, I know that it had, and probably still
has, wide room for improvement. When
Jennifer first suggested changing the beginning I was a little resistant but
think it worked out for the best in the end.
Overall, I really like the draft exchanges better than the in class
presentations. It was more helpful
to me the have ongoing conversations about my work over an extended period. It is easier to question things in writing and more
productive to be able to look at it all in print.
Now that I have done this myself, I will be better at commenting on
other's writings in the future. If
I was going to change anything I think that I would ask more questions of the
people who simply said they liked it to help them to look more closely at the
work. I was unsure about my
feelings towards this manuscript before doing the exchange, and now I feel
really great about the way it sounds, although I think that I will improve upon
it even more after getting feedback on the changes that I have already made.