April 2, 2019

IDEAS ON TUESDAYS 394


Each Tuesday, rather than a POSSIBLY IRRITATING ESSAY, I'd like to both challenge you and lend a helping hand. I generate more speculative and teen story ideas than I can ever use. My family rolls its collective eyes when I say, "Hang on a second! I just have to write down this idea..." Here, I'll include the initial inspiration (quote, website, podcast, etc.) and then a thought or two that came to mind. These will simply be seeds -- plant, nurture, fertilize, chemically treat, irradiate, test or stress them as you see fit. I only ask if you let me know if anything comes of them.

Each Tuesday, rather than a POSSIBLY IRRITATING ESSAY, I'd like to both challenge you and lend a helping hand. I generate more speculative and teen story ideas than I can ever use. My family rolls its collective eyes when I say, "Hang on a second! I just have to write down this idea..." Here, I'll include the initial inspiration (quote, website, podcast, etc) and then a thought or two that came to mind. These will simply be seeds -- plant, nurture, fertilize, chemically treat, irradiate, test or stress them as you see fit. I only ask if you let me know if anything comes of them.

Change of pace for a bit – I’m going to look at elements of EXTREMELY popular SF, F, and H; break them apart and use each element as a jumping of point for a story idea…or better yet, a continuing story idea…maybe writing myself a novel or something!

Popular Horror Story/Series: Goosebumps Books: “scary books that are also funny.”
H Trope: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Goosebumps; middle class kid, remote location…

Carlos Rodriguez Cruz shook his head and said, “I can’t stay here anymore.”

Austin Ventura grabbed Carlos’ backpack and pulled it, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Carlos turned, hiked the pack up and said, “Listen, my family is undocumented. I’m undocumented. Nothing’s gonna change that. I can’t afford college and I’m gonna be cleaning toilets and vacuuming carpets for the rest of my life if I don’t do something.” Austin had no idea what to say. All he could do was stare until finally Carlos turned away, saying, “I was right. You can’t understand.”

“You can teach me!” he called after Carlos’ back. His friend shook his head once, then ran at the school’s exit doors and plunged out into the wintry cold. Austin finally moved and followed him outside, but Carlos was already disappearing over the hill. “Come back,” Austin said. The warning bell for the beginning of last period rang. Austin took out his cellphone and speed-dialed Carlos but got no answer. He hung up and texted, “Talk to me.” He sent it and dashed to class. With only a semester of their senior year left, he had no intention of not passing. His college career was set; finances were lining up; he was ready for the next step in his life.

He’d thought for years that that step would include his best friend Carlos. But there had been problems and the more Austin talked about college, the less Carlos paid attention.

He’d been avoiding Austin since winter break had ended. Now he knew what had been bugging Carlos. As he came around the corner and into the English Hallway, Mr. Zoroastrian – his real name was Mr. Sebastian, but he was an advocate for synthetic religions and had had them all practice Zoroastrianism for two weeks – said, “Eighteen weeks and sixty seconds, Mr. Ventura!”

Austin laughed and temporarily forgot about Carlos.

###

Until his text message note chimed at 2:30 the next morning. Bleary-eyed, he patted his bedside table until he slapped his cell. At first he couldn’t read the message because the light was too bright. Then he didn’t understand, “Carlos there?”

He grunted as he rolled onto his side and texted back, “Who is this?”

“Carlos’ sister. He there?”

“No.”

“He’s gone.”

“What?”

“Later…”

“Where did he go?”

Austin waited until the screen light faded, then repeated his text. There was still no response and he swung his legs over the side of his bed. The floor was freezing. His room was freezing. He looked at the text messages again – they were from Carlos’ phone. Which meant that he’d left it somewhere that his sister could find it – like his bedroom. Austin knew Carlos didn’t exactly have a private life at home. He shared a room with two little brothers. The first time they had a sleepover in sixth grade, he couldn’t believe that Austin had his own room.

Austin pulled on a pair of sweatpants, a sweatshirt and poked his feet into his green Converses. He stopped shivering, thought about it for a moment, then texted, “Paulina, right?”

He waited until the screen went dark. Suddenly it lit, “Yes.”

“When did he leave?”

“I said good night to him at 10:30.”

Austin shook his head. Four hours. His best friend could be anywhere…

Names: ♂ Mexico, Mexico; ♂ Minnesota, Italy (= “baby in the woods”, “foundling”)

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