What a fantastic prompt and stories. I will get on it.
Something that struck me here was how you remembered your student’s story. I hear so many essays and writings from students, people who come to my retreats, etc. I am so surprised about how many I remember. They are written with such power and bravery - fiction and non fiction alike- that they stick in the brain for years and decades. Writing is so powerful, isn’t it. The two stories in your short piece here will most certainly stay with me.
Yes, it is amazing. But the second story I will never forget. I do forget a lot of stuff though, people who write and tell me they were in my workshop thirty years ago and I have zero memory, but some of the stotries will stick forever. I gave a class for people with cancer for eloven years, and their stories, and us as a group, will stay with jme forever. They didn;t write about cancer all the time, they wrote about chikdhood and grandmothers and cooking and staring death in the face, and we were all so close it was as if we were an organism, more than a close group of writers. But this past year, about two months ago, yet another woman was going to die, and I just couldn't face the loss of another. We'd lost so many good friends. So I quit, and one of the people who had beeen in the workshop for all of the eleven or twelve years took over. Anyway, there are people and stories I remember but there are many I've forgotten, too. Been doing it forever. Still do a Monday wotkshop, too many people, but such good writers, Have you been teaching a long time too?
I'm trying to find a time when I was inappropriately dressed. So far, no luck. I will keep trying. I've made my memory very selective in the past year. I decided my brain was like a library now filled with too many books, and had no room for new ones, so I let many old ones go. At least, that's how I like to think about my spotty memory.
Such a good way to think of your memory - with such compassion! I’ll try that too! We are decluttering and leaving just the best memories! (Not necessarily the most joyful though, as they don’t always make the best stories ).
Great prompt- Abigail! When you started your post - I thought it was a dream. That’s when I’m mostly not properly dressed - in front of my students…!
As for the reality of an orgy memory … well, better less said!
The library brain is very nice! Thank you for that connection.
Abigail, as always, your writing catches me off guard. The story of the student's husband would snatch the breath of any instructor. Glad she felt safe enough with you to share it.
I love the headline because it is exactly what is missing with all other headlines from professional writers--"if you want one" My email overflows with writing prompts from people who have set up online businesses as writing teachers. My writing folder has more than 200 drafts in various stages of research, write or finish. I don't need one more prompt or poke. I would love the gift of additional time, if they could rustle that up for me. If writers would follow Abigale's lead and just write, I can appreciate and learn more that way than assignments.
I love the story and nudge. I will get on it immediately I think of the time I was wearing cowboy boots while bartending and the regular dancer didn’t show up.
I love how this story begins — not a reliable narrator with the date. Hah, memory. And then, of course, the orgy! So unexpected. Brilliant. Thank you for giving me a laugh this morning.
There were too many times in my life when I was inappropriately dressed, but one incident sticks out. It was 1980, my first summer job between my first and third year in college at a disco bar (with the silver glittery drop ball from the ceiling) on the second floor of a three-story in the University of Pittsburgh area, which drew all sorts of people. Anyway. One of my shifts was a Wednesday evening (the worst) to cater to a bowling league who drank long-neck bottled beer all night. At the time, I was wearing those huge platform shoes with bellbottoms thinking that if I looked sexy, I would make more tips. But carpet was on a portion of the floor, and I carried a large tray of long-neck bottled beers. With the uneven balance of the weight in front of me, the too-high shoes, and the carpet on the floor, my foot caught, like a stutter, the entire tray went sailing onto the table and some of the bowlers. The owner, who witnessed the whole scene, told me to shake it off and sent the bar back to help me clean up the mess; then for the next month tried to proposition me to have sex with his girlfriend, which, while I was flattered, declined, but put up with since I need money for books.
Hah! Thanks for the memory and prompt. Good morning Abigail.
What a great prompt…and the stories are unforgettable. I’ve felt inappropriately dressed so many times in my life…trying to think of one that stands out. Food for thought. Thanks for sharing this.
What a fantastic prompt and stories. I will get on it.
Something that struck me here was how you remembered your student’s story. I hear so many essays and writings from students, people who come to my retreats, etc. I am so surprised about how many I remember. They are written with such power and bravery - fiction and non fiction alike- that they stick in the brain for years and decades. Writing is so powerful, isn’t it. The two stories in your short piece here will most certainly stay with me.
Yes, it is amazing. But the second story I will never forget. I do forget a lot of stuff though, people who write and tell me they were in my workshop thirty years ago and I have zero memory, but some of the stotries will stick forever. I gave a class for people with cancer for eloven years, and their stories, and us as a group, will stay with jme forever. They didn;t write about cancer all the time, they wrote about chikdhood and grandmothers and cooking and staring death in the face, and we were all so close it was as if we were an organism, more than a close group of writers. But this past year, about two months ago, yet another woman was going to die, and I just couldn't face the loss of another. We'd lost so many good friends. So I quit, and one of the people who had beeen in the workshop for all of the eleven or twelve years took over. Anyway, there are people and stories I remember but there are many I've forgotten, too. Been doing it forever. Still do a Monday wotkshop, too many people, but such good writers, Have you been teaching a long time too?
And thank you.
I was one of 10 kids, no. six from the top. We had an 88 acre produce farm. We were born to work.
Everything inside and outside of the house was always out-of-control.
One hot, summer, Sunday two older favorite sisters were driving my dad’s old convertible to the city to attend Mass.
I begged them to let me ride along. They told me to hurry and get ready.
My six sisters were very pretty, tall, slim and blessed with thick, long hair they parted down the middle. What I would today call 60’s hair.
I flew up the stairs to my shared bedroom and began to pilfer through the clothes on the floor, the bed and in the drawers.
I found my fat cousin Gail’s hand me down fancy, yellow dress.
But the socks! I could only find stretched and worn out, white turned grey anklet socks.
Shoes became another problem. I had worn out, brown scuffed, tie shoes from another cousin Mary.
As I hurried, some part of me knew this wasn’t working but I put the dress, socks and shoes on anyway.
As I glanced in the mirror I
saw that my thin, fine hair was limp and flat. And Gail’s 2 sizes to big dress was hanging on me. I kept moving.
I ran down the stairs, out the door and stopped dead in my tracks when I noticed the look on my sisters faces.
I can still FEEL that moment.
As the car pulled out of our driveway without me I burst into a million inadequate tears.
I'm trying to find a time when I was inappropriately dressed. So far, no luck. I will keep trying. I've made my memory very selective in the past year. I decided my brain was like a library now filled with too many books, and had no room for new ones, so I let many old ones go. At least, that's how I like to think about my spotty memory.
good way to look at it. I just think my memry is full of holes.
Such a good way to think of your memory - with such compassion! I’ll try that too! We are decluttering and leaving just the best memories! (Not necessarily the most joyful though, as they don’t always make the best stories ).
Great prompt- Abigail! When you started your post - I thought it was a dream. That’s when I’m mostly not properly dressed - in front of my students…!
As for the reality of an orgy memory … well, better less said!
I believe Elderwomen need to be compassionate toward themselves, so I am!
The library brain is very nice! Thank you for that connection.
Abigail, as always, your writing catches me off guard. The story of the student's husband would snatch the breath of any instructor. Glad she felt safe enough with you to share it.
I love the headline because it is exactly what is missing with all other headlines from professional writers--"if you want one" My email overflows with writing prompts from people who have set up online businesses as writing teachers. My writing folder has more than 200 drafts in various stages of research, write or finish. I don't need one more prompt or poke. I would love the gift of additional time, if they could rustle that up for me. If writers would follow Abigale's lead and just write, I can appreciate and learn more that way than assignments.
wonderful
Thank you.
I love the story and nudge. I will get on it immediately I think of the time I was wearing cowboy boots while bartending and the regular dancer didn’t show up.
I was asked to dance
To be continued
♥️
Woah, the twists and turns in this!!! 😂 Absolutely loved everything about this!!! I just might try this prompt out, too!
Please do. I'd love to read it. And thank you.
Might try? Let me think on it.
Ha! In the days when there was sex to spare!
Nicely put!
Haha I like this!
I love how this story begins — not a reliable narrator with the date. Hah, memory. And then, of course, the orgy! So unexpected. Brilliant. Thank you for giving me a laugh this morning.
There were too many times in my life when I was inappropriately dressed, but one incident sticks out. It was 1980, my first summer job between my first and third year in college at a disco bar (with the silver glittery drop ball from the ceiling) on the second floor of a three-story in the University of Pittsburgh area, which drew all sorts of people. Anyway. One of my shifts was a Wednesday evening (the worst) to cater to a bowling league who drank long-neck bottled beer all night. At the time, I was wearing those huge platform shoes with bellbottoms thinking that if I looked sexy, I would make more tips. But carpet was on a portion of the floor, and I carried a large tray of long-neck bottled beers. With the uneven balance of the weight in front of me, the too-high shoes, and the carpet on the floor, my foot caught, like a stutter, the entire tray went sailing onto the table and some of the bowlers. The owner, who witnessed the whole scene, told me to shake it off and sent the bar back to help me clean up the mess; then for the next month tried to proposition me to have sex with his girlfriend, which, while I was flattered, declined, but put up with since I need money for books.
Hah! Thanks for the memory and prompt. Good morning Abigail.
That's a hell of a story! You wrote the assignment!! A+
…nearly every day of my life since the 3rd grade.
Up until then I was simply smashing… each and every day 🎩
You made me laugh!
Yay! 🥳☺️
What a great prompt…and the stories are unforgettable. I’ve felt inappropriately dressed so many times in my life…trying to think of one that stands out. Food for thought. Thanks for sharing this.
That's a helluva story. Good prompt. TY
On it!!
Love this idea. And wow to your student. What an incredible story.
This is excellent! Thank you, Abigail. Now off to write.
Oh good! So glad to hear that. Thank you.
This is brilliant, and so is the prompt.
Real talk- mostpeople’s writing bores me to tears. But you are an ace ✨
Oh dear…oh dear! No mystery then in some ‘little number’ or a great jacket…