On Writing & Storytelling - Reunion: Coda Update: The Story Moves Forward As Chapter 11 Ends, Chapter 12 Begins

 

 

 

Hi, all.

 

Just a quick update to say that last night I completed the fourth and final scene of Chapter 11 in Reunion: Coda.

Sure, right now it's still in "first draft mode," but I'm just content with the knowledge that after more than a month of trying different approaches to the scene, I finally "cracked the code" - as it were - of how to present this deceptively simple-looking part of the chapter. (It never ceases to amaze me how this scene, which I thought would be easy because it's based on a plot point introduced in Reunion: A Story, took me nearly two months to write.)

Here's an excerpt from the scene, which also puts me over both the 50,000-word mark and the 120-page mark in the novel’s manuscript.

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.