Friday, December 12, 2014

Writing Class Version 4

Had another class last evening. I'm wondering if there will ever be a class without comments. But, then it would be perfect and we all know perfection is a thing of fairy tales. At least it felt like there were less of them. So, again the text at the class is italicized.

It was the last week of high school, called senior week. Simply put, it gave you the freedom to come and go around your final exam schedule.

On one of these mornings, I asked my mother a simple question that started a sequence of events that made my world sort of shift a bit. But, of course I still claim total innocence! I didn’t have a car yet and asked if I could drive her to work and then go on to my foster mother’s farm in Sudbury where I attended school, about a 20 minute drive. “That would be ok”, she said. I think there was, an assumption on her part that I would be leaving the car at the farm and taking a bus to school. I didn’t do that of course and instead drove to school and parked in the lot, knowing about the rule of NO student cars allowed. After all I’m a senior, what could they do?

After taking my tests, I drove a friend home, which took me off my normal route to the farm. While maneuvering a slight left bend in the road, which dipped over a small stream, a car coming in the opposite direction had taken the turn too wide and, as if in slow motion, scrapped down the entire length of the car. It was still drivable, so after exchanging the necessary information; I soon headed for my mother’s house. I arrived, to her rushing from the house in an absolute rage. I stood there wondering what could possibly be so wrong, she certainly hadn’t seen the other side of the car yet.

It seems that the school had, in fact, done something about that rule. They had found the car in the parking lot without a school sticker, but it did have a “federal” parking sticker for the hospital where my mother worked. The school called the state police and reported a stolen car. The police, in turn, notified some federal agency of the stolen car with a federal sticker. Eventually this chain had ended up with my mother.

She went on and on about the embarrassment of being called by both the state police and her supervisor. She also gave me the added bonus that I had been suspended from school. At a point when the tension seemed to be easing, she simply said, “it just can’t get any worse, can it?” Remembering the car, I told her that it really can and suggested she go out and look on the opposite side.

Class Discussion

The first two sentences should be rearranged and merged into one, starting with something like 'It was senior week and.....'

There was a lot of discussion about the second paragraph and how to explain, without going into a big description, on how to introduce and talk about having a mother as well as a foster mother. I need to think about that one and come up with a simple solution, if possible.

In the third paragraph, they felt that I should show more of my anguish. Like, describing the sound that the other car made as it scraped down the lengh of my mother's car.

Paragraph 4, and I knew this, sounds like a kluge. It has bad rhythm and not easy to read. There was confusion about the "stickers" and which was for what or where. Also, why did they report it as stolen car. This needs to be explained.

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