For a homework assignment in a creative writing class at UCDavis Extension, I was asked to write an incident that included a fragment of conversation, keeping as close to the actual incident as possible. 250 words. Next, I was to write an invented scene containing that same fragment of conversation. 250 words. In other words, I was to:
Incorporate a fragment of conversation into fiction
CRUISE CONTROL #1
Driving down Twin Cities Road toward Highway 99 and listening to Russ Limbaugh trash Bill Maher for trashing “Joe the Plumber,” I happened to glance at my rear view mirror.
There was a black and white tailing me with its red and blue lights spinning. Damn! I checked my speedometer. Oh Boy, this is going to cost me.
Mindful of my in-case-you-get-stopped-for-speeding etiquette, I pulled over and put my hands where the office could see them–on my steering wheel, positioned at 10:10. When he motioned for me to open my passenger window, I wondered if now would be a good time to mention that this would be my first citation.
No, I decided. He’d probably just say I’d been lucky, which would be true. Heaven knows how many traffics laws I’d unintentionally broken over the years, surely enough to wallpaper our den with tickets by now.
He asked for my driver’s license, registration and proof of insurance, and then after a short trip to his patrol car and back, he asked, “Do you know how fast you were going?”
“Sixty?” I said, poising my answer as a question, thereby making it less a lie.
The officer didn’t bat an eye, undoubtedly used to such antics by now. “I clocked you at seventy-five.”Not bad, considering I was driving my husband’s three-quarter ton diesel on a curvy section of road.
He handed me what looked like a Wal Mart receipt and asked me to sign it. “I’m citing you for sixty-five, which will save you a bundle, since the posted speed limit here is fifty-five.”
I tried to look contrite, but darn it, at fifty-nine years old, I’d finally gotten my first ticket–for speeding no less. My sons would be proud of me. Way to go Mom.
“You might consider using cruise control in the future,” the officer said, all buddy-buddy now that he knew I wasn’t carrying contraband or planning to flirt or cry.
Cruise control, my foot. I’d been on cruise control all my life. It was time I dumped the panty hose and padded bra and flung myself into the future head on.
I gave him a bright smile as if he were my new best friend. “Thank you, officer. I’ll certainly take that into consideration.”
CRUISE CONTROL #2
As Elsie propelled her Volvo down Highway 1, I gripped the front console so hard my knuckles turned white. And I nearly jammed my feet through the floorboard. Not only did the narrow, winding road make me nervous, but Elsie was driving as if it were a racetrack instead of an obstacle course. “Do you know how fast you’re going?” I asked between clenched teeth.
Elsie’s response, a loud, throaty laugh.
At this speed, I figured we’d miss our destination altogether, but no, Elsie had things under complete control.Without warning, she braked, swerved off the road, and screeched into a crude pullout to our right.
“You must have an angel on your shoulder,” I huffed, holding one hand across my chest and the other over my belly.
“Oh quit being such a fussbudget,” she said, her earrings dangling like baited fishing lines.
I gave an unladylike snort. “I’d rather ride with a ninety year old granny.”
Obviously taking no offense, Elsie pointed into the distance. “Look Fran!”
Nestled among the trees on a large volcanic rock and surrounded by crashing surf and shifting sand stood The Point Sur Lighthouse. A rush of emotion brought a lump to my throat.
I love lighthouses. They stand tall and firm during times of difficulty, serving as beacons of light, guiding, projecting and comforting.
I released my grip on the console and relaxed my feet.
Elsie flashed me an innocent smile. “Feel better now?”
I did, but felt compelled to say, “In the future, you might consider using cruise control.”
With a wave of her hand, Elsie brushed away my comment. “Rest up, worry wart. We’ve got a 360 foot climb ahead of us, one mile round trip. What we’ll need is jet propulsion, not cruise control.”
If you’re approaching this exercise from a reader’s point of view, you can see how writers are able to come up with some interesting results when incorporating actual fragments of conversation into fiction.
If, on the other hand, you’re a writer, you might want to give this exercise a try and come up with your own interesting results.
As always, thanks for stopping by,
What different outcomes using the same bits of conversation! Makes me wish I was a writer (something I always wanted to do but had no courage to try). Thanks for sharing this Margaret! I loved Elsie btw (my grammy's name).
Hi Cath. You can try being a writer without necessarily aiming to be an author. It's fun to write. Anyone can do it. And often you suprise yourself. Just start up a journal, starting January 1st for instance, and use a book like Until Today by Iyanla Vanzant or Romancing the Ordinary by Sarah Ban Breathnach with their daily inspirational essays as a jumpstart for each day. And thank you for reading my short stories and leaving a comment.
I wanted to thank you for your kind words on my blog today! They were much appreciated as always. I will return the favour by saying these two essays made me giggle! I like to blur the line between actual events in my life(annoyance of junkmail) with fiction (disturbing chat with my new postman) such as in my post, 'Post No Bill'. It makes my life seem more interesting for one! It also becomes more relatable to the writer and the words flow in a more natural way and also relatable to the reader as a moment of enjoyment. I mean, who doesn't dislike junkmail? I bet you had fun doing these – well done. Keep up the great work as we all enjoy your labour of love. I keep 'journals' myself but they are pages filled with one line humour comments that find their way into my head. Almost always they come to me when I am driving,using cruise control 😉
Hi Sally. I'll have to go back and check out your "Post No Bill," post. Sounds fun. And yes, I did have fun doing these, even though it was a class assignment.
It is amazing the difference in two different exercises..I'll have to try it…
Hey Lee. You bet!!
I used to love writing class. We would learn such interesting techniques. I loved both versions.
Thank you Judy. And I agree, writing classes are great. Wish I could keep taking them forever.
What a great idea Margaret. I'll have to give this a try and BTW I really love your writing style 🙂
Thanks for the compliment, SS. You just made my day.