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…
Current Event: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pUAKvpaW5bI
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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