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Friday, October 29, 2010

Writing Prompt 10/29/10: Your Vote Counts!

by Amy Robinson

We wrote volumes of amazing stuff last weekend at the Writing Pad High Desert Retreat. It was so much fun that we're already planning our next weekend away! I am relaxed just thinking about it. Please vote on the dates for the next retreat in the comments of this blog. All dates are Friday through Sunday.

Ojai Retreat (or Idyllwild or Solvang--TBD)
Vote: Mar 4-7, Mar 11-13, Mar 18-20 or Mar 25-27, 2011?

Joshua Tree Retreat
Vote: Sept. 30- Oct. 2, Oct. 7-9, Oct. 14-16, or Oct. 21-23, 2011?

Let us know your favorite date(s) in the comments - delicious writing treats like Adel's warm BBQ chicken sammies for lunch await you!
Writing Prompt:
Make a list of 5 things that come to mind when you hear the word "Election." Then, pick one of the items off of your list and write for 10 minutes. Post your story in the comments of this blog. For example, this is what comes to my mind when I think of the word, "election": My arch rival in grade school had the same first name as I did, Amy. When we both ran for class president in the 6th grade, I knew it was the glitter quotient that would decide my fate. So that is what I will write about.

Comment on this blog! What does the word "election" bring up for you? The best mini-story of October/November will win a free class! All comments will receive likes and remembers from Marilyn.


Writing Pad said...

What a fabulous article! I vote for Amy Robinson! She's the best. Also, I will be there for any of those dates. ;)

I can't wait to hear what you guys have to say about the weekends and to read your election writes. It is my campaign promise that I will give you likes and remembers soon. And I am a very nice, honest politician.


Cathy Belben said...

Either of the March dates would be great!

Shelly said...

I vote for March (either date)...Ojai sounds fab-u-lous.

Writing Pad said...

When I was in junior high school, I wanted to be the head of the social committee. I loved to plan parties in my imagination, and I thought that this position would be the perfect outlet for my ideas.

I deserved the position. After all, I had sold the most lifesaver swirl lollipops out of anyone on the social committee to raise money for the Bahama Bash. It wasn’t hard. The cherry and cream swirl and the orange creamsicle were the most delicious lollipops in the world, and I just gushed about them as I took my classmates’ hard earned allowance money into my special red vinyl pencil case. I was spreading happiness, sugar, and relaxation for only $.50. It was a win-win situation.

The Bahama Bash theme, “Come Sail Away” music, suggested dress code of Hawaiian shirts and mumus, and refreshments of virgin pina coladas were also my ideas. It was the most enjoyable, well-attended school dance ever hosted at Old Orchard Junior High. I deserved to be social chair. I could make our school a cool place in the off hours!

But alas, a flat chested, brace faced girl like myself was not destined for the role. I was not the daughter of the richest kids in town (the ones that owned a chain of Cadillac car dealerships). I was not a popular cheerleader or a jockette. In fact, a few had a mean nickname for me, “Moron Freakman,” that made sitting through homeroom unbearable.

I learned an important lesson the day of the election: just because you are the most qualified for political office doesn’t mean that you will win. It is almost always and foremost, a popularity contest. I’d have to work on that part.


Shelly said...

Here goes...I think of "Outcast" when I hear the word Election....

It was my fourth year in elementary school. The girls were flaunting their summer dresses and skirts and oh-so-popular knee high socks. We were a tight-knit group of girls that had known each other since kindergarten and felt fairly comfortable with that fact. Our school was small, maybe a few hundred kids at the most, so when a new student would arrive, he or she would quickly become the talk of the town.

That particular year, Olivia Oliveras arrived. Olivia was just enough “different” to stand out among the locals on our small campus. She had short, cropped, black hair and she dressed as if each outfit had a specific purpose. Olivia was a nice girl, a smart girl, but she also harbored the unique (to our school anyways) ability to SING. Now we could all “sing” in the literal sense, but Olivia could actually carry a tune, and made it sound somewhat pleasant.

We knew the moment we met her that there was something about her we liked. We would put on plays and pretend to have “parts” where she would be able to display her talent. We had a grand old time, that was, until jealousy creeped into our little elementary-school-world. We did what any normal, young, jealous children would do. We began to ostracize Olivia. We would leave her out of our plans, scripts, quality time at the monkey bars. We began to talk bad about her behind her back, call her names and refer to her as a “sheep” because of the way she sang. We were cruel, no doubt about it. We made sure that we would no longer be friends with her because of her “terrible” singing voice. We abruptly ended our friendship and sent poor Olivia packing. She was no longer worthy to fit into our crowd and hang around with us “cool kids. “

I’ll never forget the look on Olivia’s mother’s face the day she picked her up from daycare, the day we decided to no longer be friends with her. It was a look of “how could you be SO cruel.” At that moment, I caught a quick glimpse of Olivia as she was walking out the door and just barely saw the glisten of the single tear rolling down her cheek. She had become an outcast, yet I thought it funny that I was the one that felt like I didn’t belong at that very moment.

Writing Pad said...

What a wonderful story! I loved the name, Olivia Oliveras. I loved the pretend plays, and the details of the monkey bars and the knee socks. Your ending was very strong and sad too! Great job! Thanks for posting. :)