[stylist] The Dark rewrite 1

[Bridgit Pollpeter]

Brenda,

What an improvement! This was really good. I like how you begin it.
Nicely done. With the dialogue, just make it a separate paragraph except
you do have one para where there's a small quote, I think from your mom,
and that's fine to combine with a para. Otherwise, this was a solid
rewrite.

Sincerely,
Bridgit Kuenning-Pollpeter
Read my blog at:
http://blogs.livewellnebraska.com/author/bpollpeter/
 
"History is not what happened; history is what was written down."
The Expected One- Kathleen McGowan

Message: 3
Date: Wed, 12 Oct 2011 16:22:19 -0400
From: Brenda <bjnite at windstream.net>
To: Writer's Division Mailing List <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Subject: [stylist] The Dark rewrite 1
Message-ID: <4E95F6FB.6020401 at windstream.net>
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1; format=flowed

Thanks to everyone who gave me input on my project.    I reworked the 
piece based on your comments. I probably missed a few of your 
suggestions, but I wasn't deliberately ignoring them, there was just a 
lot of flipping between emails and documents. I probably did not do 
quotes correctly yet, but I can focus on that more in the future.  
Hopefully this time the spaces after periods will show up.

The Dark

The recipe almost blew out of my hand as I ran into the house to show 
off my very first cooking project for Home Economics.My mother took the 
wrinkled paper, studied it and remarked "you probably won't like Rosy 
apples."Snatching the recipe I stomped to my bedroom and slammed the 
door.At thirteen I could not remember a time when my mother had not 
decided how I felt or what I liked.It all started when I was a toddler 
and my mother decided I was not afraid of the dark.

As a baby I could barely see the sunlight.Several surgeries brought 
lights, colors and shapes into view by age two, but my world was still a

collage of sights and sounds.During the day I played with my older 
brother outside in the bright sunlight.On rainy days we stayed indoors 
where the sound of my mother cleaning the house or my baby brother 
crying filled the air.When I heard "Time for lunch" or the honk of a car

horn I knew the shadowy figures in the room were my parents.My waking 
world was filled with sights and sounds that guided me through the 
fog.No monster would dare lurk in this bustling household.

At night my world was a dark, dreary place.My two brothers and I were 
crammed into one small bedroom in our two-bedroom home.The silence was 
only broken by the noise of the monster lurking somewhere.My brothers 
were asleep in their beds, and I didn't know where my parents 
were.Something had to be done before the monster came and got 
me.Creeping to the bedroom door, I saw the glowing lamplight but only 
heard a muffled hum."Oh no, the monster is here" I concluded.

Slamming the door shut I ran back to my bed and pulled the covers over 
my head."Hey, open the door" shrieked my older brother when he awoke to 
a dark room with no beam of light to comfort him. "Quiet down in there" 
yelled my dad without moving from his chair.Thump, thump, thump sounded 
on the basement stairs as mom came to see what the commotion was 
about.Instead of yelling at me for upsetting my brother and not going to

sleep, my mother opened our bedroom door and remarked to my father 
"She's not afraid of the dark because she can't see."

"The monster can't get me with my mom and dad so close" I decided and 
fell asleep before my fear returned.

This story was told all through my childhood as proof that I was not 
afraid of the dark.It would do no good to explain the terror I felt 
inside.Just once, I wish my mother had been right.