Many of you know I'm trying to write a young adult novel this summer (I'm currently at over 16K words- 59 double-spaced pages and kinda proud of myself in an "it's not enough nor good enough, but at least it's there" sort of way.) It's an interesting venture peering back into my own past to dig up stuff to use. My favorite story I've found as I've trudged through those bygone horrors is one that I didn't even appreciate until a few years ago. It's a little too young for my novel, but it delights me nonetheless.
As the only girl in the neighborhood crew (Kaylene was often too young) I was in charge of baking the goods for the lemonade stand, and making the signs. I probably should've known better than to go into business with a pack of ten-year-old boys with a penchant for mooning and fart noises, but they were cute, and I'd always been boy-crazy. After six hours, twenty-three dollars split five ways, and more teasing than a prissy little white-dres-wearing pink and white polka-dotted toed girl could handle, I broke. I lit into them. Well, most of them.
As a teaching natural (ha ha) I thought I needed to be accurate and give the guys someone to look up to- someone to inspire them to be better to prissy little girls in white dresses so I singled out the only one of the pack who had not teased me once that day so at the end of my tirade I turned to Jason Conforto (who would, only a few years later, become my first boyfriend for an awkwardly glorious two weeks before I got so terrified that he'd break up with me that I broke up with him) and I thanked him for being the only one to respect me that day. He promptly turned to me and smashed a cupcake in my hair.
This was not a pleasant memory until a few years ago when my brother was visiting Jason, and the two of them were re-living old moments. Jason told the story and then when he got to the end, Jason was angry. Not because I had yelled at them, but because I'd outed him. He said he'd never have been able to live that down and so...the cupcake. Huh. Apparently he'd had as much of a crush on me as I'd had on him. Apparently ten year old boys are cruel to each other if they sense that one of their own might be at risk for cooties. Who knew?
It's funny how inaccurate all stories inherently are. How biased we are. How much my love life had still not changed sixteen years later when the story was told. How fascinating it is to have someone else tell you a story that you have been telling for years. How a good summer day can make any story feel like home. How thirsty I am for lemonade right now.
8 comments:
I love stories. I think that all of the people involved in any one event have a different telling of it. Stories make reality bendable, because depending on who you hear it from (and no version is any less true), your perception of the event will change.
What kind of young adult novel are you writing? Is it a coming of age story, a pseudo-memoire, entertainment, all of the above? You've gone and made me curious.
I love that you are writing a young adult novel! You amaze me with your talents...I often wonder how people even write books...authors are truly heros to me because I LOVE reading and without those funny cupcake stories to read...I don't know what I'd do!!! :D LOL
Pretty funny, and I could see Jason doing that.
Stories are awesome. In Laurence's novel The Diviners she uses the term "memorybank movie", and I always find that a useful term -- not pictures in the filing cabinet of your mind, but little films that you're constantly editing and re-shooting, fictionalizing the real events to the point where what happened and what didn't can't be told, and at a certain point doesn't matter anymore.
They also make you wonder if change is actually possible. Are our personalities basically fixed when we're kids, so the 34-year-old adult of the present isn't all that different from the 8-year-old boy in the story?
As for writing a young adult novel -- cool cool! -- once again, I bow and roll out the red carpet to your sparkling intellect! :)
I wonder how the girls that I was mean to when I was a kid tell the stories? Of course, looking back at my "memory-bank movie," I don't think I would have liked me then.
I look forward to being the east coast stranger that gets an advanced copy of this book.
Cute! and for the record I have never feared the cooties nor have I ever smashed a cupcake in someones hair. I am glad that you jumped on the blog bandwagon. Its great to hear your musings!
I have been wondering how you have been doing since your sleepless night.
So, how have you been doing since your sleepless night?
To Thom: Oh. Sorry I took that post off so quickly; I'm really fine. I think I was somewhat delirious when I wrote it. I love my sleep. I'm not good without it. When I re-read it I sounded sad, but that wasn't accurate or what I thought I was saying when I wrote it so I took it off. I've been doing well. I'm at 71 typed double spaced pages now on my book (almost 20k words) so I'm really happy. thanks for the concern.
Post a Comment