A lot of times when I'm slumped over an open book in the breakroom at work, I'll bet it looks like I'm reading it. In fact, I know it looks like I'm reading it, because of all the people who stick their hands between my eyes and the pages and wiggle their fingers. "Oops. Don't let me bother your reading," they'll say with a smirk on their faces.
"Oh---you're not bothering my reading at bit," I say. And I mean it, too. Because I'm not reading the book---I'm rewriting it!
Take The Summer of May, by Cecilia Galante. I spent some time noggling about with this snippet between May and her dad:
"How's summer school going?" (my dad) asked.
"Okay...it's not how I wanted to spend my summer, but I'm doing it."
Dad uncrossed his feet. "Well, you'd better keep doing it. And do it with a smile on your face tool Because if I hear about you getting into one more incident up at the school, I'm telling you right now, May---" (p.136)
And off they go, into an argument.
See, the thing is, books are filled with setup moments like these---the moment where the write pins up a big blank sheet of paper (how's summer school going?) and picks out a fabulous colored marker (it's not how I wanted to spend my summer, but I'm doing it) and stands back to let the fun begin; all the endless possibilities to fill up that white inscrutable space.
Galante quite properly gave the space over to a grieving-dad-who-doesn't-understand-his-equally-grieving daughter (and do it with a smile on your face...).
But it doesn't have to be that way.
----The Tender Moment with the Understanding Fun Dad:
"How's summer school going?" (my dad) asked.
"Okay...it's not how I wanted to spend my summer, but I'm doing it."
"Nobody wants to go to summer school." My dad stretched out his feet. "It's like wanting the 'flu."
"And the bubonic plague."
"And frostbite."
I said har through my nose. "Dad? do you think I'm pretty?"
----The Action-Packed moment with the Science-Fiction Dad:
"How's summer school going?" (my dad) asked.
"Okay...it's not how I wanted to spend my summer, but I'm doing it."
"Well, you better keep doing it." He jumped to his feet and fired. "These Daleks are no dummies. They'll hunt you down the second you flunk out."
I shrugged as I pulled the phason charge and threw the grenade. "They're hunting me now. And I just got a B+ on my Algebra quiz."
---The Weird Moment with the Strike-it-Rich Dad:
"How's summer school going?" (my dad) asked.
"Okay...it's not how I wanted to spend my summer, but I'm doing it."
Dad looked at the ticket in his hand, then at the TV. It was on, the sound turned way down, but numbers scrolled across the screen. 3 7 89 14 6 56 23. He fell off the couch and waved his sock feet in the air.
"I'll buy you the school---hell, I'll buy you a whole summer! I've just won 283 million in the Powerball!"
I thought he was joking. About the 283 million, about buying the school, the whole summer. But you know what? He wasn't.
My advice to you---don't ever let your dad buy you a whole summer. By August you will be in a whole bunch of deep and dark and extremely dangerous crap.
