Expressions of a Writer

Life changes. Confidence falters, yet the strong remain. To endure, to grow, to exist. To be a better writer, I must not only practice my technical skills, but dabble in all sorts of ways of expression. Feel free to check out my blog, ask me  questions, explore my writings, learnings, and ramblings.

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Outranked.

One of the things about memories is sometimes they haunt you. At random one pops in your head, and you relive it – the mental screen shots of small events. As I start the second NaNoWriMo, one of them comes to mind, and I find myself writing to recreate that moment. Maybe not the way it occurred, but the feeling of it.

For me that moment happened on a Grandma sponsored shopping trip. I loved hanging out with my grandmother as a kid and teen. Listening to the oldies on the radio. She’d go to the mall – it was her thing, browsing cloths racks, scouring for a good bargain – and in the end a trip to the food court. I hated the mall. Loathed the mall. Both because on the onset of the friedreich’s ataxia and the people. Mall trips were grueling, tedious, humiliating and painful all rolled into one, though all of that was overshadowed by the great time I spent in with my grandmother.

On one of the last trips, I ran into a kid from school. A jock from the football team. The one that stood a little taller than the rest, the subject of all of the praise, the interviews. He had the smile and grace. The star. I’m not saying he didn’t earn it, but I wouldn’t be a good judge. I know how much the kicky thing is worth – that, dear friends, is the extent of my knowledge of the game so valued in my small town.

Valued and one of the few sources of entertainment,

I burned much duller on the social food chain. The shy writer girl with the weird walk. I was between groups of people, bouncing around to try to find a place, but it would never be his.

Outranked.

I raised my hand to say ‘hi’ to him, his mother saw me and pointed for him to respond. He did, reluctantly and quickly.
To me that moment was a defining moment: the confirmation on where I stood in the world. That I could be in a crowded mall and be invisible to a stray classmate.

I want to recreate that feeling in this new NaNoWriMo story.