On Writing & Storytelling: Two Steps Forward, One Step Back….

Late Afternoon, Friday, October 6, 2023, Lithia, Florida

Hey, everyone.

Sorry that I’m posting at a later time than usual; I normally write blog entries late in the morning and publish them on WordPress either shortly before noon or not long after, but I’m here now because I am feeling the effects of sleep deprivation. I didn’t sleep all that well last night and still woke up early, probably because I was so excited that I finally completed the first draft of Chapter 11’s fourth and final scene.

As you know, I worked on that part of Reunion: Coda for over a month, but I didn’t “crack the code” of Chapter 11, Scene Four until late afternoon on Wednesday; as I said yesterday in Musings & Thoughts for Thursday, October 5, 2023, or: Family Anniversaries Loom; Progress on Novel Inches Forward:

Yesterday afternoon – and rather late in the afternoon, at that – I finally figured out how to write the fourth (and last) scene in the eleventh chapter of Reunion: Coda.

See, I’ve been working under the assumption that every scene in a chapter has to be at least a few pages in length, with a nice balance of action, dialogue, descriptive passages, and what have you. And, for the most part, this approach has worked well – or, at least until I got to this point in the narrative.

And then, after another day of grappling with the manuscript and trying to “crack the code” of Scene Four by any means necessary – including writing it first as a screenplay, then rewriting it as prose – I had an epiphany: the scene doesn’t have to be long at all. Instead of writing it as a multi-page scene, why not just do it in one or two pages? Stephen King does it in many of his novels and short stories. Michael Walsh did it in his 1998 As Time Goes By: A Novel of Casablanca. So do other novelists. Why can’t I?

When I realized that I could write the scene however I saw fit, I decided to not do another Jim-and-Marty scene, even though for the longest time I wanted to give them more “screen time” since their story is at the heart of the Reunion Duology. Instead, I wrote a fictionalized account of how and why the Spring Concert, originally scheduled for May of 1983, was cancelled after South Miami High’s chorus teacher (Ms. Owen in real life, Mrs. Quincy in the Duology) left the Dade County Public Schools system in the middle of our second semester.

If you’ve read Reunion: A Story, you already got an abridged account of that sad episode and its consequences for Jim’s relationship with Marty. What I wanted to do in the novel – other than give fans of the original story a bit more of Marty and Jim’s story – was to give a more complete version of the run-up to the Spring Concert, Mrs. Quincy’s sudden departure from South Miami High School, and the effect that her absence had on her students.

Here’s an excerpt from Scene Four, if you want a sneak peek:

If Hollywood told my story like a movie, it would go something like this: I’m a smart and nerdy senior at South Miami High School, Class of ’83. I love history and music, and I have a crush on Marty, the most beautiful girl in the chorus. She’s sweet, funny, and talented, and she has no idea how I feel about her. One day, I muster up the courage to ask her to sing a duet with me for the Spring Concert. She agrees, and we rehearse “Somewhere” from West Side Story, a song about two star-crossed lovers who dream of a better world. As we sing, we look into each other’s eyes and realize that we are meant to be. We kiss, and the audience cheers. We go to the prom together, and then we graduate and go to the same college. We live happily ever after.

Sounds nice, right? Well, that’s not how it happened. Not even close.

Life is nothing like movies.

To be fair, a hypothetical screenwriter of that version of The Jim Garraty Story would have gotten a few facts regarding my story arc right. I was a member of South Miami High School’s Class of ’83. I was a college-bound kid who loved history and music, and I did have a crush on Marty. Ditto about the part about being a singer in the school chorus and asking Marty to sing a duet with me at the Spring Concert, scheduled for the middle part of May – a capstone to our two-and-a-half-year-long stint as members of the Singing Cobras.

And if it hadn’t been for Mrs. Quincy’s unexpected acceptance of a job offer from Juilliard – an offer that required her to leave for New York City right away instead of at the end of the school year – a lot of the “Hollywood” version of my life would have happened as well. At least the “duet at the Spring Concert” part of the story, anyway. The romantic part, where we go to prom, attend commencement as a couple, then go to the same university (or at least different ones in the same city)? That bit…would be more of a stretch.

Unfortunately, Mrs. Quincy did leave South Miami High three months before Finals Week and less than six weeks before the Spring Concert, leaving all of us in the care of the earnest, well-meaning, soft-spoken, but uninspiring Mr. Abner.

At the end of his first day as our teacher, he dismissed us with a nervous smile and a timid voice.

“Well, I just want to say again that I understand how sad you all are that Mrs. Quincy isn’t here, but I will do my best to get you ready for the Spring Concert and whatever other challenges lie ahead. I’ll do my part; all I ask in return is that you do yours. Okay?”

He sounded sincere, but his words fell flat. We didn’t want a new teacher. We wanted Mrs. Quincy back. She was more than just a teacher to us. She was a mentor, a friend, a role model. She had taught us everything we knew about music and life. She had inspired us to sing with passion and confidence. She had made us feel like a family.

Mr. Abner was nothing like her.

He tried to conduct the rehearsals as usual, but he lacked the authority and the charisma that Mrs. Quincy had. He didn’t know how to motivate us or challenge us or praise us. He didn’t know how to make us laugh or cry or feel anything with his music.

He was just a substitute.

Today I wanted to work on the novel in some way – ideally by starting Chapter 12, but barring that, I would have settled for making revisions on the rough draft – but I’m exhausted. I was so excited about finally getting that vexing scene done that I couldn’t sleep until way past 3 AM. And, to top it off, I woke up just a bit later than my usual time, so I am probably running on four hours’ worth of sleep plus the caffeine from a cup of coffee and half a can of Coca-Cola.

Oh, well. I’ll just work for a while tomorrow.