fiction pack

Desire’e Fuller

CRTW 201

March 29, 2012

Prof. Darling

In this fiction packet I wanted it to be like a glimpse into someone else’s life where you don’t really know what lead up to this or what happens next it gives you the freedom to create and fill in the blanks. 35 and ticking is a story done two different ways it’s the same character experiencing 2 different emotions about the same thing. I wanted it to not be obvious the emotion. Because often people associate fear with a trauma or phobia and happiness can sometimes be generic. So with this character I explored fear of aging and also equating material things to wealth. There are other stories though that deal with race and also humor so enjoy…

~Desire’e Fuller

35 and ticking (Fear)

            “Dear Lord, this isn’t the plan you have for me is it? I mean in less than 6 hours I will be 35, and what do I have to show for it. A big empty house, a huge bank account, is it not possible to be successful and have a family. What am I single? Why am I not a mother? Did I give up that option when I pursued a career in corporate America? I go to church every Sunday I give my tithes and offerings what did I do wrong?”  Joan asked kneeling down beside her bed, Tears streaming down her face as she questioned the life she had been living. After a string of bridesmaid’s positions this year and a 35^th birthday party in hours she finally cracked. Locked inside her bedroom Joan wondered if maybe it was her own fault.

“Please lord give me another chance, I don’t want to turn 35. I’ll get it right this time. You put so many wonderful men in my life and I blew it with my impossible standards and my crazy checklist. I don’t want to see 35 Lord; I don’t even want to come out this room. What exactly would I be celebrating?

There was a knock on the door. Joan fell to the floor and became very quiet. Hoping that soon whoever it was would go away soon.

Sweetie I know you’re in there, what’s going on? I thought we were going to get ready for your party together” Joan’s younger sister Melanie asked.

“Go away” Joan yelled.

“What the hell is going on?”

You wouldn’t understand the party is off; I just want to lay here.

“Open the damn door Joan”

What is this about” Melanie asked

“I don’t have a reason to live; I don’t want to see 35. That’s a determining age for a woman. You have your husband, your family I don’t. And at this age I don’t have too many options left. I want to end it all right now. I’m tired of living, I’m tired of crying” cried Joan.

“Joan 35 is not the end; plenty of women have families after 35. You sitting here trembling and crying means what? Get up and lets go to this party” by this point Melanie was over the dramatics.

“I’m not going I’m not turning 35” Joan moaned.

“So what you want to kill yourself is that what you want. Take my belt then, make a noose I don’t give a damn anymore you crying about a damn birthday? I never would’ve thought you were this fucked up. I always thought you had the perfect life.” Melanie said leaving the room

“Money can’t buy you happiness Mel.”

35 & Ticking (Happy)

“Hi Ms. Clayton, I have Mr. Eisenberg on line two, he says it’s important.”

“Lauren tell him I’m busy and take a message also cancel all my meetings for the rest of the day and tomorrow I’ll be out of the office til Monday.” Joan said as she left her office.

Walking through the doors in her navy blue power suit Joan Clayton demanded attention. Men always took notice of her medium brown skin almond eyes and full lips, hell women too. At 34 she is the youngest VP in the company’s history. A graduate of Harvard Business school top of her class she has truly worked hard for where she is today. A proud woman of color and she didn’t have to lie on her back to get where she is today. But all that doesn’t make up for the fact that she’s a bitch on wheels.

“Hello, Joan Clayton speaking” she answered her cell.

“Ms. Clayton can I just speak to my sister please or do I have to make an appointment.”

“Very funny Melanie, what is it” Joan asked.

“I was calling to see how was your day coming and if you were ready for your big party tonight.”

“I’m just leaving the office, on my way to the spa for a Mani and Pedi then Rodeo to get something new to wear. What the hell is all that ruckus in your background? Joan asked annoyed.

“Oh just the kids playing”

“Ooooh! Thank the lord I didn’t get stuck with having a bunch of babies. I mean could you imagine. Ugh! Well have fun with your rug rats. I’m about to get ready for my 35 and fabulous party. Talk to you later smooches” Joan hung up the phone and climbed into her car.

As she rode off in her black 745 BMW curly hair flowing in the wind, she couldn’t help but think how lucky she was for the life she has worked so hard for.

Wow I’m so glad I got that abortion when I was 16 that one decision could have determined whether I was going to be happy or miserable, my life would be totally different. I know I’m not meant to be a mother and the last thing I needed was some kid ruining my plans. I truly believe everything happens for a reason Joan thought to herself proud of the choices she made. Then she smiled devilishly as she loved the woman staring back at her in the rear view mirror.

“Welcome Ms. Clayton, come on back” the petite Korean receptionists said walking her to the pedicure stations.

“What brings you here today?’

“Well I’m turning 35 tomorrow and my family is throwing me a huge party in a couple hours” Joan replied.

“Well happy birthday, how long have you been married? Are you going to let your kids come to the party as well?”

“When I said family I meant my sisters I don’t have a husband nor do I have kids” Joan’s agitation with the woman’s small talk was written all over her face.

“Time is ticking girl you better hurry up” the woman said giggling.

“Are you serious right now? Hurry up and do what? Enough with the questions scrub my damn feet so I can go.”

The nerve of some people, I don’t need no damn husband or a bunch of crumb snatchers running around. My life is perfectly fine. There is nothing a man could do for me that I couldn’t do for myself. She thought to herself as the woman continued to scrub the endless months of handwork from the bottom of her feet.

Not over the comment the woman had made Joan yelled “I have over 200 pairs of shoes, a wardrobe you would die for what the hell I need a man for”

“Those things can’t keep you warm at night Ms. Clayton.”

Preston

The dough eyed 4 year old caramel skinned boy starred at the door anxiously. He knew he wasn’t allowed in his mother’s room when she wasn’t home. His grandmother fell asleep watching him and he knew this was his only chance in. Slowly he pushed the white door open not wanting to alarm his granny. As the door opened he was hit with lavender, the smell came from candles burning on his mother’s dresser. Slowly he entered he peered to his left and saw a huge flat screen television hanging from the wall to the right of him was a huge walk in closet filled with all his mom’s beautiful clothes. Everything was in its place by color and category. The young boy named Preston, looked down to see what was under his feet, it was a large zebra shag rug. Preston liked the way in between his toes so he dropped to his knees and rolled around in the fluffy rug. The rug was so cozy just like the room. He got up to notice the black and white photos that covered the walls. The pictures were taken during a photo shoot when Preston was an infant. ‘Oh my’ he thought as something else caught his attention. It was the most beautiful thing his big brown eyes had ever seen. I couldn’t he thought, but in the other hand moms not here. Just for a second it won’t hurt he told himself. Preston climbed onto the white chaise lounge in front of the bed. It was ginormous in his eyes. The king sized bed set inside the espresso black headboard and was covered with a white canopy. The bed was perfectly dressed with a black and beige duvet. From the chaise he hopped upon the mattress. With a big smile on his face, he began to jump in the bed. Higher and higher laughter and giggles filled the room. His attention now on the ceiling, he wanted to touch it so badly. He was determined so he jumped higher and higher. No longer laughing because this was a challenge he had to take serious. He jumped faster reaching up to grab the ceiling; he was so close he could taste it. Just as he leaped up off the bed his mother appeared.

“Preston” she yelled.

He flopped down, “uh oh.”

Cherylynn and I

An apple, a tree, this itchy round dirt. Cherylynn and I would always come right to this big ole tree to play. It was right in front of the lake and big enough to drown this Georgia heat. She’s been my best friend since I can remember. And this ole tree is our favorite spot. Mostly because we can’t be seen playing with each other, me being black and all, but also for the apples.

My family and I moved here when I was 4 years old that was about 6 years ago. Everyone told Cherylynn to stay away from us. But that girl has a mind of her own. I can still remember the first day we met. My mama and daddy had just finished moving all of our stuff in the house and I was sitting on the front porch. I liked how this neighborhood looked it was a whole lot nicer then where we had come from. Real quiet, I was only four but I knew what a lot of noise sounded like.

“Why yo skin so dark?” the little curly haired red head girl from next door came over and asked me.

“I don’t know. Why yours so white? I asked

“I don’t know” she said shrugging her shoulders “wanna be best friends?’

“What’s ya name first’ I asked.

“Cherylynn.”

Hi Cherylynn I’m Daisy your new best friend” I said.

“Cherylynn” a man yelled. We both almost jumped right outside of our own skin. What did I tell you girl, you get your tail over here right now and don’t let me catch you back over there, ya hear?

Cherylynn leaned in close and whispered “I’ll be back then quickly ran home behind her dad.

As mad as that man was I knew I would never see her again. For the rest of the day I wondered why that man was so angry. I just stayed on the porch til daddy said it was time for supper.

Mama made some ham, collard greens, and cornbread. We weren’t the wealthiest family but we were doing pretty good to be colored. Daddy was a preacher at the church over in the next town. We moved here cause we needed mo’ space. With mama daddy me my two brothers and grandma that two bedroom house was bustin at the seams. We was the first colored family in this neighborhoods, and by the looks on folks faces when we were moving in not a lot of them were pleased. The next morning mama did my hair in two pig tails with ribbons and she dressed me in a yellow polka dot dress.

Every day after school Cherylynn and I would go back behind our houses and play by the ole tree either eating those apples or throwing them in the lake. Every once in a while she would come over and have dinner with me and my family, that is when her daddy wasn’t home. Mama always said you supposed to love everybody the same. I guess Cherylynn daddy didn’t get the message.

One day while I was sitting under the tree waiting for Cherylynn to meet me there. I saw three big boys coming my way. I was gonna get up and make my way to the house but they were to close.

“You sure are looking pretty today Daisy, how about you let me get a peak under that skirt.” They said walking closer.

I backed up and held on to the tree afraid of what they were gonna do to me. I closed my eyes and began to pray daddy said even when you can’t see him god is always there.

One of the boys grabbed me and through me on the ground I wanted to beg and scream but I was too scared. I just kept my eyes closed and didn’t make a sound.

Hey, what do you think you’re doing?”

I opened my eyes to see Cherylynn; I breathed a sigh of relief. We’re only 8 years old what could she really do but at least I wouldn’t be alone

“Get the hell out of here Lynn” the boy in the dirty blue overalls screamed.

“No leave her alone” she yelled.

“I’m not playing with you Lynn; you get outta here right now” the tall one with the red jacket said.

“Fine” she said as she laid on top of me “your gonna have to do me to.”

“Cherylynn, what are you doing” I asked surprised that she wasn’t scared and from the discomfort her weight put me in.

“Hush up girl” she said

Wreckage of Reason

I'll start with Blue Girl i loved how descriptive the story was but was confused about talks of the secrets..i don't know if the secret was them coming to see her or not. I'm assuming the moon pies were the secrets? anyway sentences like


"...her mouth and lips smudge white against the blueness of her skin, tongue clacking at the roof of her mouth, crumbs dribbling down her chin..."


I want so badly to be able to describe something so simple as eating like this, and this is why i admired this story.


Word (Reeves)


This story reminds me of when you're thinking and how your thoughts can start at one point and end up completely different but its all one train of thought. too be honest i thought it was weird but very interesting at the same time. it seemed to be poetic, lyrical and with some rhythm. it reminds me of the poem we read And What Do You Get by Heather McHugh.


NYLA Whirlwind Romance (lilis)
this made me think of a conversation you would only be able to hear one side, and it was like we were listening in. i thought it was very clever shows how infatuation can turn into something other than love. it gives you an insight into long distance like you desire something more when you can't have it. i really enjoyed this story.


".....four days til you get here, three days til you get here, two more days, in twenty six hours  fourteen hours,,,,,,then it changes to"... that's why i don't like the long distance thing"


this story was so brilliant and original.

Fiction Packet

"Survivors"

Going through the fiction packet I was immediately taken by the first story, Survivors. With just under 300 words and no names this story spoke volumes. I love the way it was written. From the first line "he and his lover were down to their last T cells and arguing over who was going to die first." Just from that line you know its about two gay men diagnosed with HIV. Yet the words gay and HIV never appear in the sentence. this story was full of emotion you felt empathy as a reader the characters experienced anger, disappointment, selflessness, love and  pride all in this short story.

I can't quite say what it was that attracted me to this story. it just feels real, you can imagine this situation and these people, their struggles, and their love. we hear a lot about people being bullied, harassed, beaten "out of their gayness" so or me this story was very relevant and rings true. there was also a sadness about this story however which you felt in the story and definitely affected your mood as a reader. But as much as it was about death it was also about love and to me that was the bigger theme in the story.

Language that stood out for me in this particular piece was:

• "he knew, too, that they all--father, mother, two older brothers--would disapprove of their flat, of the portrait of the two of them holding hands that a friend had painted and which hung over the bed, the Gay Freedom Day poster in the bathroom, all the absurd little knickknacks like the windup penis......"

This sentence which came a few sentences after the first made it clear that they were dealing with disapproving families but also described the place that they referred to as home. But also how it ended with:

• "....Dear God, he thought, let me die first, don't let me survive him."

I just think this sentence just showed how selfless someone can be but also makes you think what would be going through your mind if you were faced with this same situation. would you be scared? would you be at peace? would you think of the people in your life? aboout your spouse? i just think this story was brilliantly written.

BIRD BY BIRD

I am super excited about this book, no offense intended, but this book is everything I thought this class was.. when I registered for it. I’m eager to read more it’s witty and informative at the same time.

Shitty first drafts!!!!!

YES! YES! YES!

This chapter has offered me some much needed relief. In the midst of writing my own novel and I am just over it. My thoughts are all over the place I feel like stopping, going back, making changes but I am now at peace.  On page 21 he summed me up effortlessly “people tend to look at successful writers…..and think they sit down at their desks….hat they take in a few deep breaths, push back their sleeves…and dive in, typing fully formed passages as fast as a court reporter” (Lamott, A).  I was so overwhelmed with not being able to pour out chapter after chapter that I got frustrated and wanted to give out. But peace came when I read that all good writers write shitty firsts drafts and its how they end up with good second drafts.  This has motivated me to continue writing and not fret over my “shitty first draft.”

Polaroid’s

I like this chapter it starts with “writing a first draft is very much like watching a Polaroid develop. You can’t—and in fact, you’re not supposed to –know exactly what the picture is going to look like until it has finished developing.  Going into my novel I had a clear pathway my characters were to take but within the first few pages the character created their own paths and I the story directed itself. I stopped trying to reign myself in. and even though the conclusion will ultimately be the same how my character gets there is shaping itself.

School lunches?

I found to be very random…plan to reread.

City Eclogue

The Open

 I choose this partucular poem becasue reading it aloud in class made it make more sense to me so i wanted to share my thoughts on what his poem meant to me.

The spacing looked like chaos and had no order which i think was a visual representation of his theme which was Jim Crow laws, civil rights and 1950's 1960's southern america. the line that says black pillar of light is in refernce to MLK and Malcolm X's assasinations.. they represented hope for black people and their deaths was like that dream going up in smoke for their followers and their respective movements. The line that says "a people within a people" like we're all of a human race but we're seperate as if we are not all one. people dont even realize how similar they are becasue in one neighborhood its like two different planets.



 I almost feel like the poem is saying their deaths represented no hope when you go back and it talks about things being plowed down and nothing being put in its place its like there was no new leader to rise up and keep that movement alive.

I THINK THE ENTIRE BOOK IS UNIQUE IN HOW IT LOOKS VISUALLY, THERE IS A LOT OF SPACING, LINES, GAPS, INDENTS, HYPHENS, SEMI-COLONS. WHICH ALLLOWS FOR A CERTAIN AUTOMATIC RYTHM WHEN YOU SAY THE POEMS ALOUD. I DONT QUITE UNDERSTAND EVERTYTHING HE WRITES.

YOU SORTA HAVE TO READ IT OVER AND OVER LINE BY LINE TO KINDA UNDERSTAND, EAC POEM FEELS LIKE IT IS SERIOUS IN NATURE MAYBE EVEN TAKING A STANCE BUT IM NOT CERTAIN BECAUSE ITS HARD TO FIGURE OUT, THERE'S A VOICE ALSO LIKE A NARATIVE IN SOME OF THE POEMS LIKE THE POEM PSALM WHERE IT SEEMED LIKE A STORY.

BUT ALSO HIS LANGUAGE IS VERY VISUAL YOU CAN EITHER SEE WHAT HE IS SAYING OR EASILY IMAGINE. FOR EXAMPLE 'THE RISEN NIGHT SWEAT UP...A PACING FOG OF NIGHTMARE...DRIES AWAKING TO WAKING.'

SO EVEN THOUGH ITS DIFFICULT ITS SORTA LIKE USING CONTEXT CLUES WHERE  YOU FIGURE OUT THE MEANING BASED ON WHATS AROUND THE WORD.

My Thoughts On Sonnets....

Maybe its because i never studied Shakespeare in high school or just a mere disinterest in poetry that causes me to not like this genre, either way i found them pretty boring! For me it is hard to understand what is being said or what is meant by these words.

I find poetry that I understand to be very interesting, but i think I'm more into spoken word. What i will say is that the humor in the poems intrigued me. Ii gravitated towards Berrigan more than Shakespeare because I knew of some of the pop culture references in to which he referred.

Although I don't quite understand it Ihave a respect for it because they are following a guideline, like get your point across in 14 lines, make it about love, but there is also a poetic license where they get to be creative which was showcased in the berrigan XV sonnet (In which the poem was inverted). For me using these as a model or inspiration was interesting i tried to make it non traditional and almost like the downside of love but also try to keep it light and humorous.

Children"s Rhymes

I chose this poem to look closely at because its "familiar." where i went to school we studied more poets from the Harlem Renaissance era than Shakespeare so for me i understood the poem, i liked how it looked visually as well as the story it was telling. by the way the poem was set up you could tell the tone of it changed with each indented paragraph. its a play on children having fun and being careless while other people see the world for what it really is. full of problems, and one-sided and unfair.

Overall, I'm looking forward to moving on from this section but there is nothing wrong with being exposed to something new.

Intro Blog

My name is Desire'e Fuller i am a apparel textile and merchandising major and a marketing minor. i'm taking this class because although i love fashion i aslo love to write. im curently writing a novel which i plan to get published. i also have ideas for a couple screenplays so im hoping this class helps with that, that is why i picked it up. :)