Fiction Friday: Micropoetry from the Novel

mormoni

Had there been 12 places,
it would’ve been like The Last Supper,
but there were 16—
a perfect square full of imperfect squares—
a latter day First Dinner.

Her husband was a descendant of Brigham Young—
who had been a modern day Abraham
& whose descendants may not have numbered the sands of the sea
but the stars on the BYU sports teams.

The Urim & Thummim—
the seer stones that the Prophet Joseph
had used to translate the golden plates
& had been taken back by the angel Moroni—
had been placed in the Schafers’ backyard
that was like a shady, suburban wooded lot.
This Urim & Thummim glowed like breast implants
in each of Brother Schafer’s hands,
& of course,
Saint Tony had been the one to find them,
while Brother Schafer kept them safe,
being one generation
closer to Brigham Young.

What David found laughable,
Mother found laudable,
& it was as if the stones
were the eyes of an albino,
mesmerizing her.

What some would consider Tony & Kath’s dirty little secret,
I considered a wonderful little secret,
& what Kath did not show,
she did not have to tell.

Logline for Because of Mindy Wiley An Irish-Catholic girl coming of age in the Deep South during the New Millennium finds her family splintered when two Mormon missionaries come to her door, their presence and promise unearthing long-buried family secrets, which lead to her excommunication and exile.

Sweet Little Nothings

Be YouNique chocolate

The English & Communications Department
at Pence State College was a bit macabre,
being fans of colons & periods
& Naked Shakespeare on Ice:
Denice Arnaud,
the Department Head,
was as sharp as her attention to detail;
Lionel Stevensen,
the Assistant Department Head,
was as crisp as thinly-sliced English cucumbers
in crustless tea party sandwiches;
Marion, the Administrative Assistant,
was as mathy as she was not writerly.
Then there was Luci, the Senior Admin,
also known as O.C. Dizzy,
who broke 1 foot,
then broke the other to match.
Jim Johnson,
the Poetry Prof in a tweed blazer
that smelled like academia & dead
(but not decomposed) poets,
walked around with a flowered tote
because he was “comfortable in his sexuality”
while Miguel Willis,
the Creative Writing Prof,
with his 100-watt smile,
made off-color brunette jokes;
Dodd Newsom,
the Instructor of All Things Awesome,
whose syllabus was a thing of beauty,
kept them all guessing.
But the plethora of Sara(h)s
(Smith, Jones, & Davis)—
a blonde, a brunette, & a redhead—
happened to walk into a bar one night
& became a punchline
rather than a storyline.

Interviews lead to useful information: What I learned from one semester of writing for the university newspaper

Boots

As a non-traditional student (meaning not “college age”), I am experiencing college life in a different way than most younger college students.  I don’t live on campus or with my parentsI am a married mom juggling three jobs, so I don’t have time for all the clubs, activities, and lecture series, and the notion of “Greek life” is, well, Greek to me.

Rather than hanging out in the library drinking three-dollar coffee on a laptop (my $99 ChromeBook knock-off has since eaten the dust), I sit in my home office and drink 15-cent coffee from my Keurig (using a reusable filter)—no styrofoam cups or plastic straws or disposable K-cups.  My classes are almost 100% online, as I had to keep my schedule clear so that I could work all the jobs I do.  As I will be working primarily from home in the spring, I will get to experience what it’s like sitting in a classroom next semester.

It’s a feeling I’ve missed.

For me, nothing will ever take the place of face-to-face interaction.  I like to say that one, in-person conversation equals 1000 texts.

When I was pursuing my Associate degrees, all my favorite classes (all of them writing-emphasis) were on campus; through them, I got to know my professors, and they got to know me even more; when you read someone’s creative work, you get a glimpse of their soul.

I look forward to developing my writing even more at UWF, for this university had something that Pensacola State College (PSC) did not, which was my degree program: English with a concentration in Creative Writing.

There are so many opportunities at UWF to write, whether it’s The Argonautica, The Troubadour, or The Voyager.

I’ve learned so much in the short time I’ve been with The Voyager.

From my Socratic Society interview, I learned that even though business majors get hired more, English majors get promoted more.  When you’re a writer (and not a STEM major), you need to hear these things.

From my Center for Entrepreneurship interview, I learned that you can start a business while in school; they will help you.

From my interview with a library intern, I learned that the Careers in Writing course teaches you about all the careers to be had in writing (not just teaching). 

Working for a college newspaper has connected me with people I wouldn’t have gotten to know otherwise, inspired me to attend events I might not have attended, and helped me write about things I never thought I’d be interested in; being a student reporter is also a great way to build your portfolio for future employers.

It was my love for college journalism that brought me to UWF.  A couple of years or so ago, when I was interviewing one of the writing contest winners at my alma mater, she told me she was coming here to pursue her degree in Creative Writingsomething I hadn’t known existed until then.  

Though I was only a reporter for The Voyager one semester, everything I learned was outside the newsroom because, as my adviser said, “The real news doesn’t happen here but out there.”

Fiction Friday: Micropoetry from the Book

mormoni

Known as “The new Dalton family,”
notarized by the marriage contract,
legitimized by the marriage vows,
& sanitized by not the rewriting of history
but the ignoring of it,
we lived as Mormons—
I, through deed,
David, through word,
& Mother, with her whole heart.
As for Caitlin,
she simply lived.

We still received news of Elder Johnson through the grapevine,
or the grapes of wrath known as the elders. 
Wariness had replaced openness with them,
at least towards us,
despite Mother & David’s morally married state. 
I held on to the memory of Elder Johnson,
for he had loved us then
before we had become us now.

Sister Schafer,
the quintessential administrative assistant,
had dispensed legal, medical, & real estate advice—
advising against divorce, birth control, & cohabitation,
& all without a license—
but who could question a woman
who was as close to God
as some were to their demons?

According to his mother,
Tony choosing to marry sooner than planned
rather than languish with lust had started a trend,
& would lead to less sin,
for he had followed the admonition of St. Paul.
After all, what was a bit of fooling around between him & his wife
before she had become his wife
if if prevented others from doing the same?

The acrid smell of burnt food hung in the air like barroom smoke. The haze seemed to soften the images—Ronald Reagan watching us enter the foyer, his eyes with that twinkle of merriment, almost as if he were laughing at us. David had always said that Reagan had been such a charismatic President because of his acting ability, though many of his University colleagues had debated whether the Old Gipper had ever had any acting ability.  

Community college is a great place to start; university is a great place to finish

loquat

One of the loquat trees around PSC campus.

Most of us go to college to get a degree so that we can have a career that will pay for that education.  However, if your sole objective is to get your degree and get the hell out, you’re missing out on everything else the community college experience has to offer.

Maybe this sounds idealistic or even naïve, but if you go to college solely for the degree, that’s almost as bad as going to work just for the paycheck.  

Though higher education is an expensive investment in oneself (timewise and moneywise), college has been proven to enhance critical thinking, oral and writing skills, abstract reasoning, and aid in the solidification of soft skills.  It also heightened my confidence and perspective.

What’s more, when you’re doing restaurant or retail work, you’re completing repetitious tasks, but in college, you’re advancing every four months to something more challenging (or at least different).  When you’re working for a boss, all they care about is that you get the job done; in college, most professors are interested in your success, provided that you care.  

One algebra professor gave us daily pep talks about practicing math and taught us that you don’t study math, you do it—sort of like brain surgery—and that “life is better with a degree.”  He admitted that Pizza Hut, where he worked so much harder for far less money, made him want to finish college.  He was interested in our minds, and, unlike a boss, wasn’t interested in keeping us there but wanted us to leave his class forever, and, if we must, “hate math again.”

I took him up on the latter, especially after I took Elementary Statistics, which was anything but elementary.

~

In college, you learn the answers to questions you didn’t know you had.  For example, this same math professor finally shed light on why we have to learn this “nonsense” (meaning algebra)—that it was to sharpen our attention to detail.  “Sometimes, we’re one keystroke from ruining somebody’s life,” he said, and so I could work on this nonsense with a newfound sense of purpose.

College gives you time to think, not just act, and will connect you to people you wouldn’t have crossed paths with otherwise.  

So, you watch Shark Tank and see the hustlers who never went to college (but who worked 24/7) and articles about people like Bill Gates being a college dropout, but a degree isn’t just a window of opportunity—it’s a door to experiences that are unique to the college life.  

The diversity of a community college makes everyone feel like it’s never too late to get an education, reinvent yourself, or launch a new career, so no matter your age or background, get involved in something outside the classroom. 

I did the newspaper and the literary arts journal.

Seek out internship (and work-study) opportunities as well, which you’re more likely to get as a college student, as you’re perceived as a serious individual.  Internships are the answer to that old dilemma about needing experience that no one will hire you without.

If you have the chance, take a few classes just because they interest you.  (Many people figure out what they want to do by getting a general studies degree.)  

College is a time of chrysalis:  I enrolled as a Health Information Technology major, so sure I wanted to be a medical biller and coder (to appease the introvert in me), and ended up graduating with a general studies degree in addition to that, because that was the degree I wanted to build on.

So, whether your passion is in STEM or the arts (STEAM is dumb because it leaves out writing), there is something for everyone at a liberal arts college.  

~

Now, I’m at university, studying Creative Writing.  This time, I know what I want to do.

I have experienced college life differently—as a thirtysomething with a family instead of a twentysomething living at home (or on campus).  I work two jobs, and so I don’t have time to hang out at the coffee shop (F.R.I.E.N.D.S. is a fantasy) or participate in clubs; when my friends and I get together, it is planned and deliberate, as we have jobs, kids, and other responsibilities.     

So, I will never know that twentysomething kind of college experience, but I feel like I am getting to know something better.  When I come home after a long day at school and then work at the Lab (where I concoct formulas containing commas and hypotheses based on Merriam-Webster), and the sky is just turning twilight, and the breeze through the window invigorates me, I pull up to my humble home, where, through the frosted oval glass in my front door, I see a little girl jumping, so excited to see me.  Behind that door, there is a husband who has missed me, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything.  

Though I have a couple more years to go, I have lots to look forward to—an internship, a creative nonfiction writing class, and yes, even a grammar class, because I am just that nerdy.

The first two parts were originally published as “First Times and Second Chances” (with minor edits due to hindsight) in the September 2017 issue of The Corsair, Pensacola State College’s student newspaper.

O’ Bourbon!

O'Bourbon!

You, the Kentucky cousin of Crown Royal
that courses through me like a racehorse
(while making time with Stevia Coca-Cola),
turns this classy lass into a good time gal.

Whiskey helped facilitate my firstborn;
now you work your spirit magic,
turning this desperate housewife
into a happy homemaker . . . 

To Bourbon,
..who tumbles over rocks
….to be my lucky amber penny.

To Bourbon,
..who blends well in mixed company
….and takes the jagged edge off.

To Bourbon,
..who smooths the wrinkles
….in my occasionally-overstuffed shirt.

To Bourbon—
..this working-class girl’s whiskey
….and friend to the unemployed.

To Bourbon,
..who makes me laugh at random things
….and gets me rambling about random things.

To Bourbon,
..whose strength I can control and
….whose weakness cannot control me.

To Bourbon:
..You are my lift before a public speech,
….my muscle relaxer before a medical procedure. (Yes, THAT one.)

O’ Bourbon,
give me my Ryan,
even a Madeleine,
or better yet,
pull a Solomon
and separate the egg
(you know the recipe),
and just tell my husband
to “Make it a double.”