the weariness, the fever & the fret

"Didn't know I could sing, did you?"

Okay, so short story time. I'm going to start posting "Babies & James," the short story I wrote my freshman year of college for Marsha Recknagel (I've since re-written several times.)


It was probably the first thing that made anyone pay attention to me as a writer (and lord knows, I've just been asking everyone to pay attention my whole life!). I basically had to fight my way into that class freshman year, since Marsha normally didn't take freshmen. But of course, audacious and unstoppable as I was at the time, I walked into that teeny tiny classroom in Fondren Library armed with the fat block of 300 pages that was my first novel and a speech about why she should allow me in. 


She spent the whole class talking about how she wouldn't take freshmen (I suppose, really, what do most freshman have to write about) and gesticulating with her very distinctive hands.


Anyhow, after the class was over, I waited and slammed my book down on her podium and gave my speech. Another freshman, this kick-ass kid named Rolf, also stayed. When I was done rambling, Rolf added, "yeah, I want to get in too." And she just let us! All that and the whole thing was just a deterrent for the meek!


That was a great class. This story actually came out of an assignment to write a story from the point of view of someone we hated. At the time, I thought I hated my mom, so this was originally a first person pov story. There was a lot it gained from that, but ultimately, most of what was so sad of the story you missed out on, because you had to be able to see Deb both as she sees herself and how she really is. A lot of this is true, but I've taken a lot of liberties as well.

It's a long one, so I'll be posting it in installments over the next couple of days. I'll leave you with this image for now, before I post the first installment. It's my favorite picture of my mom. Everything I like to remember about her is distilled down to this one image.