Welcome back friends, today's blog is going to be piggybacking off Creating and Emotional Scene with Dialogue and Symbolism. I'll be looking back into that memory and questioning my decisions and actions. Asking "if I did this instead, how would this change the outcome?" This type of thinking and writing style is know as Counterfactual. For more information about this subject, I encourage you to listen to Rewinding & Rewriting: The Alternate Universes in Our Heads (NPR Hidden Brain Episode). Now if you're more of a reader than a listener I recommend reading Mark Twain's Two Views of the River. And now with out further a due, let's rewind.
Reflecting on my actions and decisions from that night, I believe I made the right choices. But what would've happened if I didn't march down those stairs and break up the fight? I can only imagine the level of violence escalating to the point of someone being hospitalized or even killed. Now I know some people may think I'm exaggerating, but it's happened before. When I was younger and helpless a similar fight broke out and my mother was sent to the emergency room. It would be very difficult for me to do a counterfactual scene for I had two choices; 1- was to go down and break up the fight, 2- would be to not go down stairs and just ignore everything. So if I were to do the opposite of what I've already done It would all have to come from my imagination and from either my mother's or my step father's perspective.
1 Comment
For today's blog I'll be creating a scene embedded with emotions and symbolism as a test run for the upcoming memoir. The following texts have given me an understanding of the genre; To You, I Belong (Becky Thompson), What is Creative Nonfiction? (Lee Gutkind), What is Memoir? , The Fundamental Differences between Memoir and Autobiography . Then these other three texts taught me different styles that create emotional and symbolic scenes; Making Scenes in Memoir (Lee Martin), My Name is Margaret (Maya Angelou), Hills Like White Elephants (Ernest Hemingway). I recommend these texts if you plan to write a narrative of your own.
*Glass Breaking* I glance over to the clock to see what time it is, 2:36 am. Unsure of what caused my untimely awakening, I lean up from sleeping position on my bed in order to focus my hearing. As my ears slowly adjust to the silence, I begin to hear the source of my disturbance. *Inaudible voices yelling, followed by more glass shattering* I instantly hop out of bed and race downstairs to break up the fight going on. As the two culprits came into view, I let out a sigh of frustration. My mother and step dad are at it again. Screaming at each other, throwing shit at each other, hitting each other etc. Accustomed to this type of behavior from them, in a loud and decisive voice, I yell, " What are you guys doing? It's two in the morning, I need to sleep so I can do well on the ACTs tomorrow." Their heads flick over to me, realizing that their chaos has now brought me into the mix. I look towards my mother, her eyes are red and puffy from crying, her voice strained and scratchy from yelling so much. She has another glass in her hand ready to beam it at my step dad. Then my eyes shoot over to my step dad, who looks tired and fed up. "Can you please get this crazy woman away from me, so I can leave?" My step dad pleaded. "You're a stupid lying bastard! Get the fuck out of my house," Mother starts screaming and begins to raise her arm with the glass in it. Seeing as two glasses have already been shattered, I race towards her to prevent the third. Now that I've inserted myself right between them, I have effectively decreased the chance of my mother throwing the glass. "Mom, can you please stop breaking the glasses, and put the one in your hand down?" I ask, pleadingly. As she lowers the glass, a string of insults are hurled at one another. This clearly re-enraging my mother, she says, " Gage, get of my way." "Sorry mom, but you know I can't do that. Because the second I do this little fight is going to turn into a full on fist fight. And frankly that's not something I feel like dealing with right now," I calmly explain. My mom desperately tries to push herself around me but I grab her arms in order to hold her back. "Gage, go back upstairs, I won't tell you again," My mother threatens. "Scott, go pack your bag and leave before I get tired of this shit and stop holding her back, or act like adults. And since I can't trust you two to handle this like adults and not break stuff or get violent, I'm staying right here. Why don't y'all try and actually talk to one another, don't yell, don't hit each other, don't throw shit at one another. Sit down and talk, and while one of you speaks the other one just sits and listens, no interrupting or cutting each other off," I state, firmly. My rant taking their focus and allowing them to calm down a bit, at least enough for them both to take a seat. My mother then goes to the garage to light up a cigarette. My step dad begins grabbing his bag to leave. I walk to the garage door to check on mt mother and right as I grab the knob I hear mumbling mixed with sobbing. My mothers words almost inaudible, but I could make out bits and pieces. She was doubting her ability to be a good mother and give her children the best start. Now, I was truly shocked. My mother has never before doubted her ability to be a mother, she was always strong, stubborn, held all the authority in the house. So seeing her in such a weak and broken state, just baffled me. And that all this lashing out she does isn't a display of power or aggression, but pain and sorrow. This thought followed by maybe the glasses weren't the only thing broken that night. |
CoaltnI'll be using this blog to explore the many processes of writing and to make meaning. ArchivesCategories
All
|