I went to an open house at Gotham Writer’s Workshop last night (they were serving cider and cupcakes) . I have been considering taking a writing class for some time now, and a free 1 hour class seemed a good way to put my toe in the water. I signed up for Beginners Fiction, which is, you know, fiction for beginners. Our teacher had us introduce ourselves and reveal our guilty pleasure. Of course- one woman said her guilty pleasure was that she read all the Jane Austen novels. Can you imagine somewhat that would admit to something so guilty? I mean really- what other skeletons could be hiding in her closet……
For the second part of the class, we were given 15 minutes to write a story using our guilty pleasure. Since I didn’t get to read my story out loud- I am presenting you with my story. Remember- it’s first draft and unedited and I know there are some plot issues…..but any other critique is welcome and encouraged. Don’t worry- we return to regularly scheduled programming tomorrow.
Maeve and Sheila sit in Maeve’s upscale living room, wine glasses in hand. They are here to discuss Sheila’s apparent lack of love life.
“You are so being Catfished?” Maeve says.
“What is with you and that show? I am not being catfished.” Sheila replies.
“Have you ever actually seen this guy?”
“No. He has a busy job.”
“Please. All jobs are busy. It’s why people get hired. There’s work that needs to be done- hence, they create a job.”
“No. Seriously. He’s a Doctor.”
“I’m calling Max- he’s tough. He’ll agree with me. This guy is not a Doctor. I thought you said he works in a shelter. And knits blankets for orphans.”
“Now you’re being ridiculous. He’s a Doctor. A busy Doctor. The last time we were supposed to meet he got called on an emergency.”
“Why doesn’t he schedule a meeting when he’s not on call?”
“Well what? My husband is a busy doctor. But he’s not always on call. He has a life.”
“I know you have the perfect life. Handsome Doctor husband. Perfect child. Perfect apartment. Perfect job. You don’t know what it’s like being single.”
“Well, you’re only going to know being single. You realize this gorgeous doctor you met on Tinder, but never actually met is not real. Can’t be real.”
“You have a gorgeous Doctor who’s real. Why can’t mine be real?”
“Because you’ve been sexting for 4 months and only seen pictures of his better half. How many face shots have you seen?”
“Well. one or two sort of blurry pics. We start texting, and things get all hot.”
“How come no FaceTime?”
“He usually texts from the hospital.”
“Ok. Isn’t that cat fishy? Why only from the hospital? He’s hiding something.”
“Don’t sabotage my relationship.”
“It’s not a relationship. You have fictional sex 5 days a week. You never even talk to him on the phone.”
“Busy. I know. But don’t you think he’s hiding something?”
“Like what? He’s married. Or he’s 18. Or he’s in prison. Or he’s a she.”
“No. I can tell he’s a man and he has maturity. The beauty of his language. He gets me. No prisoner or child would get me like that.”
“It smells….fishy to me…”
“Stop. I’m tired of being alone.”
“But you’re still alone. I bet if you text him he won’t answer. Try it.”
Sheila takes our her phone and sends a text. At the same time an iPhone buzzes in the apartment. Maeve’s husband enters the living room, picks up his phone, grimaces and shuts off his phone. He kisses the top of his wife’s head and walks away.
Ok- it was really hard not to self edit as I was typing it in! I have more plot issues than I thought…but there you go!
And this ad addition that I forgot the first time around! My guilty pleasure is the tv show Catfish!!