Friday, April 3, 2009

Swift Kick in the Pants to Restart My Writing

Barbara - thank you for a great Writer's Night. I loved hearing about your Writer's Workshop weekend. I hope the critique you received from Les Edgerton as well as your chance encounter with the Post-menopausal agent after the workshop ended shows you that success for you is in your future. Thank you also for being so candid in your thoughts about where our group is going. As I told you, I feel like I am drifting and need to re-commit myself to my writing, my contributions to the blog and to the Group....so here goes!

"And it was at that age..." (After Pablo Neruda)

"Because it's not right and I'm your father," my dad said loud enough to make the other patrons in the diner look over at us. I slid down on the vinyl booth seat in embarassment, but I still did not understand. Taking a french fry off my plate, I dipped it three times into the pool of ketchup that threatened to touch the rest of my hamburger I was still eating. The fries were cold, but I didn't care. I thoughtfully chewed and waited for the attention in the diner to turn away from us.

"But Dad, Emily is my best friend. We have known each other since we were babies. Her dad is your best friend. Why can't she sleep over anymore?

My dad lowered his fork, laced his fingers together and placed his hands in front of his plate. He leaned towards me and in a quiet, yet determined voice, he said, "Frank, you are a young man now and Emily is a young lady. The two of you are no longer children. Boys and girls your age don't have sleep-overs together. If we allowed it, it would cause problems for Emily and her reputation."

I sat back and swirled another french fry through the ketchup. It was at that age I learned that boys and girls could no longer be just friends. It was at that age I learned that relationships suddenly became more complicated and would continue to remain that way for the rest of my life.

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