Oct 26 2008
Begining of a fiction piece
Pulling into the driveway I hoped my mother would not already be awake for work. As the sun began to rise on this cold February morning I knew this would be the last time I’d see the home I grew up in for a long time. All the promises I had made to myself and others to chase my dreams were going to be made good upon starting that day. I had stopped in Worcester on my way out west to grab a few things and maybe a bite to eat. I shut the car off and walked up to the gate when I heard the growl of my grandfather’s English Mastiff, Clifford. The big oaf wasn’t much of a barker anymore in his old age, but I definitely didn’t want to wake everybody up. He sauntered up to the gate with recognizing eyes and wagged his tail. I thought better than to go in and risk being heard, so I whispered “bye pup” and gave him a pat through the fence.
Turning to walk away towards my car a surge of guilt came over me for leaving without saying goodbye. I was in fact afraid of what my mother would say and how betrayed my grandfather would feel. I had spent so much time and energy trying to develop and repair these relationships with friends and family and here I was just leaving the table for a job prospect I had kept secret for months.
From here the story should blast into something shocking or abrupt, always testing the characters involved. A slow, steady build into things is almost out of date in these fast times when people want to be constantly entertained. It should be in your face from beginning to end or not very slow throughout.
Good job on keeping the reader questioning what is going on. Fiction is so fun. Good luck!!!!