DRAFT: This module has unpublished changes.

Free Write- 12/3/16

Being a grad student in the writing program at my school, I have a lot under my belt pertaining to the necessities of story writing.  Some of the main things are: show, don’t tell; sensory details are vital; and don’t forget to include the basic elements: characters, plot, introduction, climax, resolution, a story arch, and setting.  Setting for me is one of the most challenging things to capture in a story, because it’s hard to weave it throughout the other elements of the story, but, of course, you can’t have a story without setting.

As an adolescent, I have so many memories relating to the scenarios that stick out most in my mind, that I can always connect back to a certain place that I used to spend time at.  In high school, during freshman and part of sophomore year, three of these places were the neighborhood where my old best friend used to live, the front lobby of my high school, and an old friend’s house where my friend used to have people over from time to time on weekends. 

The neighborhood of my old best friend is one that I didn’t become familiar with until I became friends with her.  Me and Kylie used to wander the streets of her hood, in search of something fun to do, especially during the warm summer days following my freshman year.  She had a party one day in the June following freshman year, I think to celebrate the end of the year.  There were many good memories pertaining to that night, but the one that sticks out most in my mind is what happened right before the party.  I was walking towards Kylie’s house, probably wondering what would happen that night.  I strolled along the winding path that was something other than straight, as the whole neighborhood stood, in a circle instead of straight lines, when I saw three people, two that I recognized from school.  They were walking towards me and I was walking towards them.  The girl in the middle was a girl that I tried to talk to sometimes, in the student center before and after class, in the cafeteria during lunch, and in other miscellaneous places.  To Brianna’s left was someone I didn’t recognize, and to her right was someone that I almost definitely recognized as a boy named Jake from school.  For certain reasons this memory stuck out to me only much later, so I’m not completely sure it was him, but I remember the orange face of the boy to the right, that manifested a certain oval shape, so I’m pretty sure it was Jake, the English kid who was two years older than me, and who, (after the party?) one day at school I saw bouncing a ball with fascination in front of me and a few other people.  I think I remember snapping at him after he lost control of the ball and the ball bounced to another side of the lobby.  The reason this memory of the three kids walking sticks out in my mind, along with the memory of Jake bouncing a ball, is because I wonder if Jake was thinking, while bouncing the ball, of me inviting him to the party, as I did when I saw them walking towards me in that hood that day.  At the point I saw them, walking in the street/on the sidewalk, I was just a few houses away from Kylie’s house.  I wonder if they knew about the party. They must have, because Brianna and Jake were the type of kids that knew what was going on.  When I saw them, I told them they could come, even though I hadn’t gotten permission from Kylie.  Were they just being rude? Would they have gone if someone else had invited them? What would have happened if they went?  Would the occurrences of that party, there being many, have altered on the line of time, creating one or more tangents?  Who was the kid to the left?  Was the kid to the right Jake, or someone thinking of Jake so much that he looked like Jake?  What did Brianna, Jake, and their friend do that night that was so much better than Kylie’s party?

Another place where a lot of stuff went down was the front lobby of the school I went to freshman and sophomore year.  That was the place where I hung out a lot, before and after school.  Sometimes I would take the activities bus home, the activities bus being the bus that took home kids that played sports and had practice after school, so they needed to be driven home later in the afternoon.  Those times after school I would stay in the front lobby and hang out with other kids that stayed after school, for stuff like swim and lacrosse practice.  One time a kid named Ralph drew on my pants, the pants of an old friend named Joanna that went to another high school.  She let me borrow those pants, as she let me borrow some other stuff sometimes, like, for example, a sleeveless collared shirt.  I remember trying on Joanna’s striped Adidas shoes and looking at them in the mirror in her bedroom, and thinking they were the epitome of cool, but I don’t remember if I ever got the courage to wear them to school.  Anyways, Ralph drew on my pants, an arrow up one side, and the words “insert here” on the other, as a joke.  He did this because of my crush, Tim, as I constantly talked of Tim, almost to the point of, looking back, utter embarrassment. 

I have another memory of a day in the front lobby, where me, Dave, and Ralph were hanging out.  It was more like they were hanging out, and I was just there, but I was by their side.  Dave was all the way on the left, Ralph in the middle, and I was by Ralph’s other side.  If I remember correctly, we were laying down, looking out of the glass walls/windows that looked out to the outside.  One girl was standing on a bench, and her backside was towards us.  She had the type of khaki pants that had a heart on one of the back pockets.  Remembering those days, the pants of the brand Mudd displayed a heart on the back pockets sometimes, if I remember correctly.  The reason this memory stands out in my mind is because, years later, when I was of 22 years or so, I remember taking a walk around that neighborhood, the neighborhood of Kylie, just to remember what it was like, to feel the tone and energy of the place, and I saw Brianna (I’m pretty sure it was her- I recognized her car) driving by, and I saw the bumper of her car, and she had a bumper sticker with a heart on it, all the way to the left- I’m pretty sure it was the left.  The girl standing on the bench also had a heart on the back pocket of her jeans, I’m pretty sure her left back pocket.  Ralph made a comment that he thought that the girl was attractive, and when he said it, I felt ignored.  I felt unwanted and unwelcome.  That was how Ralph used to treat me sometimes.  I’m still unclear on how he really used to think of me, and I haven’t talked to him since sophomore year, but I can’t get out of my mind the coincidence of the heart on the left two times, because the heart showed itself when I was ignored, twice.  I don’t know who the person was on Brianna’s left.  I was ignored by Ralph that day, as Brianna ignored my invitation.  What would have happened if Brianna stopped her car, that day, in my 22nd year, and asked me what was going on?  What if I could ask her anything I wanted about high school, what happened when I left, how things were going now?  What would have happened if she hadn’t ignored me, the summer before sophomore year, and had accepted the invitation that I gave her?

Sometimes, during freshman year (at least once), I saw Brianna at Kendra’s house.  Kendra was the girl who used to have people over once in a while on the weekends.  Sometimes (at least once) I went with my ultimate old best friend, Sara, and I would linger as Sara would flirt with guys, like James B.  I have one memory of her laying under the chair that James was sitting in.  She had everyone’s attention.  I have another memory of me, Sara, Brianna, Sara’s boyfriend Dan, and a boy named Randolph that I didn’t know that well, hanging out in Kendra’s backyard.  Me, Brianna, and Randolph joined hands and walked in a circle, something like ring-around-the-rosy, while my old best friend and her boyfriend conversed in the far right corner of Kendra’s backyard.  Those were the nights that I remember most, when I was alone with people I had just met, but felt like I had known for a long time.

In conclusion, setting is a very important aspect of a story.  Sometimes it is most important, as it can frame the whole story into something different than it would be without it.  Sometimes small things in a setting can trigger strong memories, like the street lamp in an alley, or the bench of a courtyard.  What my life stories would be without setting, I may never know.

DRAFT: This module has unpublished changes.