Jan's Master Class--MEMOIR

[yvonne]

It's good to have you back and recovering, Jan....although Hava did a great job substiuting.

I think many of my writings; whether fiction, essays, or devotionals, are based on memoirs. I start with a memory or emotion and build from there. I can observe lessons I have learned or add details and characteristics to make it an entertaining story. Actually, it's hard for me to just relate a story as it actually happened. I want to either comment on it, or embellish somehow....but I'll try. *smile*

The Question

He was standing by the window and the sun made the blond in his hair almost glow. I tried not to make it obvious that I noticed him watching me. I gave a quick glance and his blue eyes met mine, and I felt my face flush at his smile.

"Hey, would you like to go to the basketball game this Saturday?"

"Me?" My heart pounded and my ears roared. I couldn't hear myself talking. "Um...yes...um...I'll have to ask my parents first. I'll let you know at church tomorrow."

I'll just let you guess what it was all about. (blush)

Here's another memoir...

Mother of the Bride

Yvonne

[glorybee]

Oh sweetie, you don't need to write it over! But if you were to expand it and look to publish it, you'd want to put in those exact things that you just mentioned.

And you're right--excellence of writing trumps everything. You don't have any problem there, Yvonne!

[GShuler]

This is longer than 100 words. Because of the length I will resist the temptation to link to one of my challenge stories that meets the standards for a memoir. By the way, nothing about this horrid event is fictionalized. This is my assignment:

My first orders after boot camp was to report for river patrol training. I was destined for Viet Nam. The training building was an old barracks that had all doors sealed shut except one... the entrance to the classroom at the end of a very long hallway. My first thought was 'What a waste of military money; an entire building but only one usable classroom.... what a waste.'

As I started down the long hallway I noticed the pictures that hung on the wall: military personnel that had been through this class in recent years. Each picture frame had two pictures. The first was the Navy graduation portrait, photo-touched to perfection. The other picture was the same man, laying in mud with a leg missing, or his head blown off or... well, horror shots, one and all. I thought 'What's the Navy trying to do? Encourage deserters?'

I was nearly sick by the time I finally reached the end of the hall. Dazed, I touched the doorknob to enter when I realized there was a note on the door. All it said was:

“The photos you just passed are of prior students of this class. They did NOT pay attention. Will you?”

[glorybee]

Oh Joanne, honey--I wish you'd asked me before ever trying substitute teaching. You gotta be made of iron to be a substitute teacher!

This is really compelling, and I hope you write the whole story some day! NO #3 problems as far as I could tell.