Narrative Assignment

This semester I am writing each of the three assignments with my students. On the first day of class I asked them to write a narrative of 3-5 pages, double-space, so I’m trying to write one too. I have a few false starts but nothing promising yet. I think I want to write about a female teenager’s first date.

False Start 1:

I squeal, lean back on my bed, and kick my feet in the air. I don’t even stop when my five-year-old sister, Sabrina, comes running into my room, puts her hands on her hips, and says, “Ooh, I’m telling Mama.”

“Tell, I don’t care,” I say and throw a pink fluffy pillow at her head. “I’m going on a date!”

Sabrina darts out of my door and runs down the hall screaming, “Maaaa! Shana has a date!”

I laugh. Nothing can ruin my day now. Jeremy Jackson just asked me out.

Next, I thought I wanted to write about a character whose car is stolen.

False Start 2:

It was a typical Sunday. Dry and sunny. The sun shone brigh As Shana walked to her beige Miata

False Start 3:

“Shana, grab some chips,” Bill yelled.

“OK,” Shana shouted back, not bothering to turn around to see Bill standing in the doorway in a white Polo and khaki shorts. “Go golfing already,” she mumbled, as she settled into her beige Miata.

The last time I sat down to write I decided false start 1 above could be the end of the story and maybe my story rests in how I could get Shana, a nerdy, shy girl to get Jeremy Jackson’s attention. (I changed the point of view because I thought third person might be easier for me.)

False Start 4:

“Excuse me.”  Shana’s eyes darted up and down. Her neck grew warm. Suddenly her pink Nikes were the most important thing in the world. Well, that and her red smock that said Welcome to Piggly Wiggly! I’m Shana. “Uh, excuse me, but what aisle is the bread on?”

Before Aisle 3 stumbled out of her mouth, he was gone.

Shana hurried to her register. Please, please, let him get in my line, she thought. Shana let out a sigh when the tall, mocha-colored boy walked pass her register and got into Karen’s line.

Writing a story is work. Shoot! I don’t know how I’m going to come up with one by the due date.