Fiction writing submission
I'm taking a fiction writing workshop at school (San Diego State University). This is my first submission. I'm having it workshopped tommorrow (basically, a class of 25 students sits around, reads my work ... tells me what work, what sucks). If you have a second or two, please give it a read and let me know what you think. I encourage *EXTREMELY HONEST AND BLUNT* constructive criticism -- thanks!
...
Your life. Improved.
Driving down the 405 through Los Angeles, Josie stared at the passing billboards. Each one blended into the other, advertising material things she didn’t need, couldn’t afford, and really didn’t want. She spotted one billboard that stood out from the others. It was an ad for Dr. Phil, the sanctimonious student of Oprah Winfrey. How she detested Oprah. Oprah was always an amusing topic for Nick and Josie.
While standing in line at Ralphs, they’d always look at Oprah’s O magazine and make jokes like, ‘Gee, Nick, I wonder who’s on the cover of this month’s O magazine?’ Nick would snicker and say, “Oh, I don’t know, Jo … could it be … Oprah? And gee, Jo, wasn’t she on the cover of O magazine the month before that, and the month before that?’ They shared a mutual hatred for several people and things, with Oprah topping their list.
The billboard read: Your life. Improved.
Josie leaned back in her chair, grabbed a Marlboro menthol light from the passenger-side door, and lit up. She thought about the sign. Your life. Improved. So this one man, she pondered, this Dr. Phil thinks he can improve your life -- how can one man make such a difference? She inhaled, looked over at Nick and studied him. At 23, Nick looked like a young Richard Gere. His thick, unruly black hair, which he often wore gelled back, was peppered with a few wisps of gray. He was of average height with a strong and sturdy build. His rich black eyelashes coupled with his striking green eyes stood out as Nick’s most attractive feature.
Josie exhaled, making sure to blow the smoke out the window. Nick hated her smoking, and smoking in general, so she was always conscious of keeping her smoke away from him.
Nick became aware of Josie’s gazing eyes. “Why do you smoke those things?”
She rolled her blue eyes and wrinkled her nose at him. “Why do you smoke weed? That’s even worse for you. At least I don’t smoke weed. I just have a cigarette every now and then - no harm in that.”
“That’s not the correct answer. The correct answer would be, ‘Because I want cancer.’”
“Fine. I smoke because I want cancer. Happy?”
Nick laughed and reached over to casually stroke her thigh. “I love you.”
Josie smiled back and echoed his words.
She genuinely loved Nick. Their love was the one thing in her life she never questioned. Like the grass is green and the sky is blue, her love for him was a given, a sure thing.
Josie took another drag and reclined her car seat. She motioned toward the half-empty bottle of diet Coke that sat in the cup holder. “Hey, can you pass me that?”
Nick grabbed the bottle and tossed it at Josie. Josie unscrewed the cap and dropped her cigarette inside. Nick grinned at her, “Still haven’t put the ash tray back in the car yet, eh?”
“No, and I’m not going to. If I do that, then I’d be too tempted to smoke. At least this way, without an ashtray or car lighter in here, it makes it more difficult for me to smoke.”
Nick laughed, “Once again, Jo, your logic and reasoning is beyond my understanding. But hey, if it keeps you from poisoning your lungs, I’m all for it.”
Josie leaned forward and put the diet Coke back in the holder, then rested back in her seat. Nick turned up the radio. The sensuous sounds of Sadé’s By Your Side filled the car.
This is our song, Josie thought; this is the song that defines us. The first time Josie heard Sadé’s By Your Side was the night her father announced he was asking her mother for a divorce. The news came as a total shock to both Josie and her mother. Her parents had been married for a solid 25 years, and rarely fought or argued.
During the months preceding her father’s announcement, Josie had noticed her dad acting strangely. In the 21 years that she’d known him, she’d never seen him drink more than a few beers here and there, but in the last few months, he’d been drinking Cutty Sark scotch on a nightly basis. He became obsessed with his appearance, and began working out with a personal trainer every other day. He replaced his Dockers with Levis and his 1998 white Ford Taurus with a ’67 cherry red Mustang. At the time, Josie thought her Dad was simply going through a strange phase and would snap out of it at anytime. It wasn’t a simple phase, as Josie had thought - Mr. Sinclair was having a full-blown midlife crisis.
One night, Mr. Sinclair sat Josie and her mother down and told them both that he’d never loved Josie’s mother, and that for 25 years he’d been living a lie. His heart belonged to another, he proclaimed, to his high school sweetheart, whom he’d been reacquainted with at the last reunion, several months ago. Additionally, Mr. Sinclair added, he was relinquishing all financial support for Josie. No longer would he fund her college tuition or pick up the tab for her car payment, car insurance, credit cards, or any other expenses. Josie and her mother would have to find a new place to live, Mr. Sinclair explained, because his new girlfriend and her 2 young children would be moving into the Sinclair home.
The news devastated Josie. She’d been residing in a protective shell of security her whole life, believing that she had the perfect family. All around her, she witnessed her friend’s parents divorcing and took pride in knowing that her parents were still together. And now all that was gone. Her family, her home, her trust, her sense of security -- in one day, she lost it all.
After her father’s announcement, Josie called Nick and frantically told him of the news. He raced down to the Sinclair home and rescued Josie from the raging emotional furnace of her home and took her into the comfort of his own apartment. They laid on the bed together, with her head in his lap, as he gently stroked her dirty blonde locks. She bawled for hours, her eyes swollen and sore from hours of crying. She’d fallen asleep for a while, and when she awoke, she heard Sadé’s By Your Side playing in the background. She looked up at Nick, who smiled down at her. He planted a soft kiss on her forehead and whispered, ‘everything’s going to be all right. I’m going to take care of you.’ Even though she’d only known Nick for a short time, she trusted that he would be true to his word and take care of her. He would always be by her side.
Josie and Nick had only been dating a month before that infamous day, but to Josie, it felt like an eternity. Always a cynic, Josie never believed in the notion of love at first sight - that is, until she met Nick. It was an instant attraction. They’d been introduced by a mutual friend at a housewarming party. Josie felt inexplicably drawn to Nick the second their eyes met. He wielded a power over her that she’d never felt before. She was at his mercy. They spent the entire party in a secluded corner, talking and laughing, and then Nick moved in for a kiss. Their lips locked and Josie found herself unable to pull away from him. She ended up going home with him that night.
Back at his place, Josie and Nick engaged in passionate kissing, caressing, and grinding on the single mattress that lay on the floor of his studio apartment. After an hour or so of intense making out, Josie slid her hand up Nick’s thigh and began unloosening his belt buckle. Nick grabbed her hand and moved it away. ‘Josie, not yet … not yet, this is too special, I don’t wanna rush into this.’
Immediately, Josie felt pangs of rejection. Never before had any man turned down her sexual advances. She’d never been one to wait, and almost always initiated sex in the few short-term relationships that she did have. She pushed Nick aside and headed for the door. Nick stopped her and explained that he didn’t want to rush into sex and that she was special to him. He went into a long tirade, proclaiming that sex always ruined relationships and he wanted to build a relationship on trust and respect, not sex.
Josie nodded, but secretly thought he was full of shit. All men want sex, she contended, only girls pull that trust and respect bullshit so they don’t have to put out. Nick had noticed her doubting face, so he grasped her face in his hands, looked into her eyes and said, ‘I need you, Josie … I need you in my life. Please believe me. I need you.’ There was something so sincere about those striking green eyes that made Josie believe he was telling the truth. Again, she nodded, but this time, she believed him.
Josie yawned and brought her seat forward, out of the reclining position. She looked over at Nick. He was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel and humming along with a Rolling Stones song. She looked forward out the window and saw a coiling line of cars that stretched ahead into the evening sky. Directly in front of them was an old blue pickup with a license plate holder that read “Fishermen do it in the water.” Behind them was Hollywood and oblivion. To the left and right were 5 lanes of traffic; there were so many people in L.A. alone. How, she wondered, out of all the people on earth had she found Nick?
Josie lit up another cigarette and pondered. Must have been a cocktail of serendipity, with a bit of luck, a dash of attraction, and a jigger of compassion. She reached over and patted Nick’s knee. He smiled and did his best Mick Jagger impression, with his lips sticking out and a drawl. It came out sounding something like, “Yew cain’t always git whachew woant.” He laughed to himself.
“You never get tired of amusing yourself do you?”
“Not really.”
Josie giggled and shook her head. Nick could always make her laugh. Whenever she was feeling down and depressed, Nick would amuse her. He taught her the importance of having a sense of humor, among other things.
He also introduced her to great works of art, literature, poetry, and film. Her bookshelf, which was once devoted to Anne Rice and R.L. Stein, now boasted works by Steinbeck, Bukowski, Kerouac, Ginsberg, and Hemingway, among others. She favored films like Apocalypse Now, Citizen Kane, and Taxi Driver over her once beloved movies, like Bring it On, Hope Floats, and Interview with the Vampire.
Nick took the exit that pointed them down Malibu Canyon Road. They pulled up to the stoplight and Nick breathed a sigh of relief. He had made it through Los Angeles traffic without shooting anyone. There was nothing now, but the open two-lane highway and a clean ocean breeze. They twisted through the hills of Malibu and joked and laughed together. She’d completely forgotten about the stupid argument that they had earlier that same morning.
Having never lived on her own with roommates, Josie was unaccustomed to the shared living quarters that Nick offered her after her father booted her out. They often fought over petty things, like cleaning responsibilities and paying bills. This morning’s argument revolved around taking the trash out. Such a simple disagreement over whose turn it was escalated into intense screaming and fighting.
Josie contended that she was a girl, and that girls shouldn’t be expected to handle refuse. She argued that her father had never made her take out the garbage because taking out the garbage was a man’s job.
‘You’re nothing like my father!” she raged, “Nothing like him! He would never ever make me take out the garbage!’
‘You’re right, Jo’ Nick retorted, ‘I’m nothing like your father. I’d never leave you.’
Josie gasped at his remarks and immediately burst into tears. Nick couldn’t stand to see her cry, especially when he knew he was the cause of her tears.
‘Jo, baby, I’m sorry,” he caressed her hair, ‘My mouth … it just, it opens itself before I have a chance to think about what I’m saying. I’m sorry, baby … I didn’t mean it.’
Josie continued to bawl.
‘Baby, let’s get out of here. We’ve been at each other’s throats all day - we need, we need to get out of here. Lemme take you some place special, some place my dad once took me when I was a kid.’
Nick pulled alongside the freeway and turned into a parking lot. “C’mon, Jo, we’re here! Look at it - beautiful, isn’t it?”
Josie stepped out of her VW Jetta and looked around at the sandy beach, the rolling crystal waves, and the glorious sun setting on the horizon. Nick reached around from behind her, enwrapping his arms around her slender frame. “This is perfect, Jo, this is the life.”
Josie smiled. Yes, this was the life. This was her Life. Improved.
...
Your life. Improved.
Driving down the 405 through Los Angeles, Josie stared at the passing billboards. Each one blended into the other, advertising material things she didn’t need, couldn’t afford, and really didn’t want. She spotted one billboard that stood out from the others. It was an ad for Dr. Phil, the sanctimonious student of Oprah Winfrey. How she detested Oprah. Oprah was always an amusing topic for Nick and Josie.
While standing in line at Ralphs, they’d always look at Oprah’s O magazine and make jokes like, ‘Gee, Nick, I wonder who’s on the cover of this month’s O magazine?’ Nick would snicker and say, “Oh, I don’t know, Jo … could it be … Oprah? And gee, Jo, wasn’t she on the cover of O magazine the month before that, and the month before that?’ They shared a mutual hatred for several people and things, with Oprah topping their list.
The billboard read: Your life. Improved.
Josie leaned back in her chair, grabbed a Marlboro menthol light from the passenger-side door, and lit up. She thought about the sign. Your life. Improved. So this one man, she pondered, this Dr. Phil thinks he can improve your life -- how can one man make such a difference? She inhaled, looked over at Nick and studied him. At 23, Nick looked like a young Richard Gere. His thick, unruly black hair, which he often wore gelled back, was peppered with a few wisps of gray. He was of average height with a strong and sturdy build. His rich black eyelashes coupled with his striking green eyes stood out as Nick’s most attractive feature.
Josie exhaled, making sure to blow the smoke out the window. Nick hated her smoking, and smoking in general, so she was always conscious of keeping her smoke away from him.
Nick became aware of Josie’s gazing eyes. “Why do you smoke those things?”
She rolled her blue eyes and wrinkled her nose at him. “Why do you smoke weed? That’s even worse for you. At least I don’t smoke weed. I just have a cigarette every now and then - no harm in that.”
“That’s not the correct answer. The correct answer would be, ‘Because I want cancer.’”
“Fine. I smoke because I want cancer. Happy?”
Nick laughed and reached over to casually stroke her thigh. “I love you.”
Josie smiled back and echoed his words.
She genuinely loved Nick. Their love was the one thing in her life she never questioned. Like the grass is green and the sky is blue, her love for him was a given, a sure thing.
Josie took another drag and reclined her car seat. She motioned toward the half-empty bottle of diet Coke that sat in the cup holder. “Hey, can you pass me that?”
Nick grabbed the bottle and tossed it at Josie. Josie unscrewed the cap and dropped her cigarette inside. Nick grinned at her, “Still haven’t put the ash tray back in the car yet, eh?”
“No, and I’m not going to. If I do that, then I’d be too tempted to smoke. At least this way, without an ashtray or car lighter in here, it makes it more difficult for me to smoke.”
Nick laughed, “Once again, Jo, your logic and reasoning is beyond my understanding. But hey, if it keeps you from poisoning your lungs, I’m all for it.”
Josie leaned forward and put the diet Coke back in the holder, then rested back in her seat. Nick turned up the radio. The sensuous sounds of Sadé’s By Your Side filled the car.
This is our song, Josie thought; this is the song that defines us. The first time Josie heard Sadé’s By Your Side was the night her father announced he was asking her mother for a divorce. The news came as a total shock to both Josie and her mother. Her parents had been married for a solid 25 years, and rarely fought or argued.
During the months preceding her father’s announcement, Josie had noticed her dad acting strangely. In the 21 years that she’d known him, she’d never seen him drink more than a few beers here and there, but in the last few months, he’d been drinking Cutty Sark scotch on a nightly basis. He became obsessed with his appearance, and began working out with a personal trainer every other day. He replaced his Dockers with Levis and his 1998 white Ford Taurus with a ’67 cherry red Mustang. At the time, Josie thought her Dad was simply going through a strange phase and would snap out of it at anytime. It wasn’t a simple phase, as Josie had thought - Mr. Sinclair was having a full-blown midlife crisis.
One night, Mr. Sinclair sat Josie and her mother down and told them both that he’d never loved Josie’s mother, and that for 25 years he’d been living a lie. His heart belonged to another, he proclaimed, to his high school sweetheart, whom he’d been reacquainted with at the last reunion, several months ago. Additionally, Mr. Sinclair added, he was relinquishing all financial support for Josie. No longer would he fund her college tuition or pick up the tab for her car payment, car insurance, credit cards, or any other expenses. Josie and her mother would have to find a new place to live, Mr. Sinclair explained, because his new girlfriend and her 2 young children would be moving into the Sinclair home.
The news devastated Josie. She’d been residing in a protective shell of security her whole life, believing that she had the perfect family. All around her, she witnessed her friend’s parents divorcing and took pride in knowing that her parents were still together. And now all that was gone. Her family, her home, her trust, her sense of security -- in one day, she lost it all.
After her father’s announcement, Josie called Nick and frantically told him of the news. He raced down to the Sinclair home and rescued Josie from the raging emotional furnace of her home and took her into the comfort of his own apartment. They laid on the bed together, with her head in his lap, as he gently stroked her dirty blonde locks. She bawled for hours, her eyes swollen and sore from hours of crying. She’d fallen asleep for a while, and when she awoke, she heard Sadé’s By Your Side playing in the background. She looked up at Nick, who smiled down at her. He planted a soft kiss on her forehead and whispered, ‘everything’s going to be all right. I’m going to take care of you.’ Even though she’d only known Nick for a short time, she trusted that he would be true to his word and take care of her. He would always be by her side.
Josie and Nick had only been dating a month before that infamous day, but to Josie, it felt like an eternity. Always a cynic, Josie never believed in the notion of love at first sight - that is, until she met Nick. It was an instant attraction. They’d been introduced by a mutual friend at a housewarming party. Josie felt inexplicably drawn to Nick the second their eyes met. He wielded a power over her that she’d never felt before. She was at his mercy. They spent the entire party in a secluded corner, talking and laughing, and then Nick moved in for a kiss. Their lips locked and Josie found herself unable to pull away from him. She ended up going home with him that night.
Back at his place, Josie and Nick engaged in passionate kissing, caressing, and grinding on the single mattress that lay on the floor of his studio apartment. After an hour or so of intense making out, Josie slid her hand up Nick’s thigh and began unloosening his belt buckle. Nick grabbed her hand and moved it away. ‘Josie, not yet … not yet, this is too special, I don’t wanna rush into this.’
Immediately, Josie felt pangs of rejection. Never before had any man turned down her sexual advances. She’d never been one to wait, and almost always initiated sex in the few short-term relationships that she did have. She pushed Nick aside and headed for the door. Nick stopped her and explained that he didn’t want to rush into sex and that she was special to him. He went into a long tirade, proclaiming that sex always ruined relationships and he wanted to build a relationship on trust and respect, not sex.
Josie nodded, but secretly thought he was full of shit. All men want sex, she contended, only girls pull that trust and respect bullshit so they don’t have to put out. Nick had noticed her doubting face, so he grasped her face in his hands, looked into her eyes and said, ‘I need you, Josie … I need you in my life. Please believe me. I need you.’ There was something so sincere about those striking green eyes that made Josie believe he was telling the truth. Again, she nodded, but this time, she believed him.
Josie yawned and brought her seat forward, out of the reclining position. She looked over at Nick. He was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel and humming along with a Rolling Stones song. She looked forward out the window and saw a coiling line of cars that stretched ahead into the evening sky. Directly in front of them was an old blue pickup with a license plate holder that read “Fishermen do it in the water.” Behind them was Hollywood and oblivion. To the left and right were 5 lanes of traffic; there were so many people in L.A. alone. How, she wondered, out of all the people on earth had she found Nick?
Josie lit up another cigarette and pondered. Must have been a cocktail of serendipity, with a bit of luck, a dash of attraction, and a jigger of compassion. She reached over and patted Nick’s knee. He smiled and did his best Mick Jagger impression, with his lips sticking out and a drawl. It came out sounding something like, “Yew cain’t always git whachew woant.” He laughed to himself.
“You never get tired of amusing yourself do you?”
“Not really.”
Josie giggled and shook her head. Nick could always make her laugh. Whenever she was feeling down and depressed, Nick would amuse her. He taught her the importance of having a sense of humor, among other things.
He also introduced her to great works of art, literature, poetry, and film. Her bookshelf, which was once devoted to Anne Rice and R.L. Stein, now boasted works by Steinbeck, Bukowski, Kerouac, Ginsberg, and Hemingway, among others. She favored films like Apocalypse Now, Citizen Kane, and Taxi Driver over her once beloved movies, like Bring it On, Hope Floats, and Interview with the Vampire.
Nick took the exit that pointed them down Malibu Canyon Road. They pulled up to the stoplight and Nick breathed a sigh of relief. He had made it through Los Angeles traffic without shooting anyone. There was nothing now, but the open two-lane highway and a clean ocean breeze. They twisted through the hills of Malibu and joked and laughed together. She’d completely forgotten about the stupid argument that they had earlier that same morning.
Having never lived on her own with roommates, Josie was unaccustomed to the shared living quarters that Nick offered her after her father booted her out. They often fought over petty things, like cleaning responsibilities and paying bills. This morning’s argument revolved around taking the trash out. Such a simple disagreement over whose turn it was escalated into intense screaming and fighting.
Josie contended that she was a girl, and that girls shouldn’t be expected to handle refuse. She argued that her father had never made her take out the garbage because taking out the garbage was a man’s job.
‘You’re nothing like my father!” she raged, “Nothing like him! He would never ever make me take out the garbage!’
‘You’re right, Jo’ Nick retorted, ‘I’m nothing like your father. I’d never leave you.’
Josie gasped at his remarks and immediately burst into tears. Nick couldn’t stand to see her cry, especially when he knew he was the cause of her tears.
‘Jo, baby, I’m sorry,” he caressed her hair, ‘My mouth … it just, it opens itself before I have a chance to think about what I’m saying. I’m sorry, baby … I didn’t mean it.’
Josie continued to bawl.
‘Baby, let’s get out of here. We’ve been at each other’s throats all day - we need, we need to get out of here. Lemme take you some place special, some place my dad once took me when I was a kid.’
Nick pulled alongside the freeway and turned into a parking lot. “C’mon, Jo, we’re here! Look at it - beautiful, isn’t it?”
Josie stepped out of her VW Jetta and looked around at the sandy beach, the rolling crystal waves, and the glorious sun setting on the horizon. Nick reached around from behind her, enwrapping his arms around her slender frame. “This is perfect, Jo, this is the life.”
Josie smiled. Yes, this was the life. This was her Life. Improved.