5.23.13: Multiple POV Story

So I've read a couple of books where there are multiple/different points of view throughout the story and I've always wanted to try it so here's my first attempt at a multiple POV story:

Kayleigh:

I couldn't make eye contact with him. There was a blush playing at my cheeks. I looked down to adjust the hair tie on my wrist. When I spoke, my voice came out soft and slow and I wasn't sure if he'd heard me. 

"You really love me," I whispered. "This is real." I still couldn't look at him. He was quiet. Please lord; don't make me have to repeat it. I held my breath and continued to stare at the skin-colored hair tie that I was now nervously spinning around my wrist. Still no reply. What a stupid question to ask. Of course he didn't. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

I went to shuffle my feet in an attempt to start my getaway but his feet took a step toward mine. I froze mid-hair tie spin unsure of what to do. I didn't move. Before I knew what was happening his hand was under my chin and tilting my face up to his. What was happening? And then, the moment that I never thought would ever happen (like ever) happened: he kissed me.

His lips fit effortlessly into mine. And then his hand was tangling into my hair and I was pulling myself closer into him. Sooner rather than later, though, he released me and I grasped for some air to fill my lungs. He had literally taken my breath away. I stood there, a little disoriented, trying to focus him into my line of sight. 

"Woah," was all I could get out. He chuckled. Great. He was laughing at me. When my head finally stopped spinning, I looked over to where he was still standing. His silhouette stretched out over the pond giving him a some sort of magical aura. I didn't know what to say so I waited for him to speak this time.  Minutes of crickets chirping, literally, went by before he finally spoke. His voice was low and muffled but just audible enough to make my heart race. 

"I've loved you since the second grade. You were always unreachable, though...dancing the line between my comfort zone and uncharted territory," he sighed, "You weren't supposed to find out like this." He looked down at his feet then as if he were embarrassed...But that was all I needed to hear. With three determined steps, I placed myself right in front of him and reached up and kissed him again. Right in the middle of the putting green. At some time past midnight. For the second time in five minutes. 

Keegan: 

Why did she look so nervous? And why the hell was she spinning that hair tie on her wrist like that? She wasn't the one who screwed up their chances with the person they've loved since second grade in a matter of hours. Jesus, she's going to give herself a damn rug burn if she spins that thing any faster. She wouldn't look at me.

I didn't know what to say...‘Sorry Kayleigh, that you found out…?’ Except I wasn't sorry...I mean I was going to tell her eventually...like after graduation or something so if she rejected me I'd never have to see her again. Jesus. Maybe I should say something...I went to go open my big mouth (as if it hadn't gotten me into enough trouble already) but she beat me to it. 

"You really love me...This is real," she whispered. Wait. What did she just say? No way. I still couldn't say anything. My brain hurt. I scrambled to find words but nothing came out. You could start to see her face show the disappointment. She started to turn away. Uh oh. I had to make a move. Now or never. Go big or go home.

So, what did I do? I made a move. Booyah! I took a step toward her and then wrapped her into my arms and kissed her. And I mean I really kissed her. Trust me, it was much more romantic in person. You had to be there.

When I finally let her go, she didn't seem to know what hit her. I let her gather her wits about her before I finally spoke...plus I also needed to figure out what I was actually going to say to her so I didn't sound like a total idiot. I decided to just go with the truth:

"I've loved you since the second grade. You were always unreachable, though...dancing the line between my comfort zone and uncharted territory...You weren't supposed to find out like this." Ugh. Yeah, no. I still totally sounded like an idiot. But at least now she knew. But that seemed to be good enough for her because before I knew it, she was right in front of me again, kissing me again. Right in the middle of the putting green. At some time past midnight. For the second time in five minutes.

5.21.13: Writing for Television and Video

This was actually an inciting incident for one of my group projects:
(Inciting Incident: An action, situation, event, etc. that occurs in the first act which disturbs the life of the protagonist and sets them in pursuits of an objective).
For just some quick background, our movie (which was a comedy) was about this kid named, Kyle. Kyle always loved basketball but one thing set him apart from everyone else: his height. He was so short. But Kyle was determined to prove everyone wrong so he decided to try out for the basketball team...

INT. DAY. GYM. 

Shuffling of feet, squeaks of basketball sneakers on gym floor. Pan across feet of basketball players. Flash to a shot of Coach Cam talking. 

COACH CAM

Alright! Line it up. You've all been waiting a year for this day. You've all put in the work for this day. Now you've gotta be ready to show me what you've got on this day. Got it?

Everyone stays Quiet.

COACH CAM

I said GOT IT?!

ALL

(Muttering embarrassingly)

yes, coach.

COACH CAM

camera pans across faces of boys as their names are called. 

alright, we'll go through roll call first...Mike, Charlie, Eddie, Sean, Tyron, Matt, ky-

camera has to drop down low to actually see kyle because of his shortness.

boy, didn't anyone tell you basketball is a tall man's sport?!

KYLE

But I can play coach. 

COACH CAM

Yeah? Well, we'll see won't we? line it up.

all of the boys line up and the camera shoots all of the players standing collectively. The height difference is extremely evident. All the other players look down the line at Kyle and snicker. The players start with a free throw shooting drill. Each player shoots the ball once, some make it in, some don't. Kyle steps up to the line. He shoots and scores. 

COACH CAM

again.

KYLE

what?

COACH CAM

I said again. shoot the ball again.

kyle shoots the ball again. It goes in.

COACH CAM

again.

kyle shoots. again, it goes in the hoop with a nice swish sound. coach cam repeats the again three more times and three more times, kyle scores. Coach cam stands with a puzzled look on his face before speaking. 

COACH CAM

okay, that's enough of this drill. Boys? Looks like we got us a free-throw shooter. Let's play some three-on-three old school. Count off by three's and split up. 

Kyle starts to jog past coach cam but coach cam pulls him to the side for a quick minute.

COACH CAM

keep it up, kid. Let's give these guys a run for their money. ya hear me?

KYLE

yes sir, coach.

COACH CAM

don't call me, sir. Now go get to your team. 

KYLE

yes si-I mean, coach. 

Kyle jogs over to his team. They all pat his back when he gets there. 

5.21.13: Writing for Television and Movies

So, like I said, this past semester, I tried my hand to writing for television and movies...here's just one example of an activity that we did in class that was based on a comic strip:

INT. EXPERIMENTAL HOUSING QUARTERS. NIGHT. AMBER'S ROOM.

Amber struggles to get to sleep. She tosses and turns and fights with her blankets. The anticipation of tomorrow is getting the best of her. She hears faint footsteps and voices coming down the hallway. She looks at the door trying to focus on what the voices are saying.

CLOSE UP ON DOOR IN AMBER'S ROOM, ZOOM OUT ON DOOR OUTSIDE OF AMBER'S ROOM WHERE THE TWO MEN ARE TALKING.

INT. EXPERIMENTAL HOUSING QUARTERS. NIGHT. HALLWAY. 

The footsteps come closer and closer to Amber's door and shadows appear. The shadows soon turn into two men: Alfred and Jared. The two come up to Amber's door and slow to a stop. They nod at her door and go to check the lock. When they're satisfied that all is in order, they begin to converse in whispered tones.

JARED

I think she'll do well tomorrow, don't you?

ALFRED

Indeed. Of course. She's proved herself enough. She's turned out to be one of the stronger ones. I wasn't too sure when we first started with her.

JARED

Yes, yes, I agree. We shall see.

INT. EXPERIMENTAL HOUSING QUARTERS. NIGHT. AMBER'S ROOM.

Amber, satisfied with what she's heard, settles back into bed and starts to fall asleep until her faint snoring can be heard from outside her door.

INT. EXPERIMENTAL HOUSING QUARTERS. NIGHT. HALLWAY.

Jared, with his ear against the door, can hear Amber's snoring. He pulls away from the door and smirks and nods at Alfred. 

JARED

Alright, we got her. She definitely bought it. Little miss Princess in there isn't going to know what hit her.

Jared and Alfred quietly snicker to one another and walk away as quietly as possible. 

5.5.13: Diplomatic Immunity

 Isolated isn’t the right word. I don’t feel isolated. I actually feel like I fit in with all of these people and that’s why this is so damn strange. These aren’t my people. These are his people…but so what if I’ve traded my yoga pants, sweatshirt, and lacrosse stick for Louboutins, Michael Kors, and Barney’s? Maybe I wanted these people to be my people, too. Besides, dressing up never hurt anyone.

But I may have spoken too soon because as I lifted to gold-rimmed champagne glass to toast all of his accomplishments, I felt a pang in my chest and it did hurt. I put my hand to my temple and tried to steady myself. What was I doing? I swayed a little before catching my balance on a nearby chair covered in some fancy-looking cloth. I looked at the chair in disgust. God, it was so ugly. First of all, who dresses their chairs? And second of all, who dresses their chairs like that? I felt a hand clasp my shoulder, which allowed me to snap out of my chair-trance. A voice that I didn’t recognize followed.

“Woah there. Either that champagne is already getting to you or those Louboutins weren’t your best choice for footwear this evening.” I turned around with a snarky remark ready to be fired but came up short when I came face-to-face with the Prince. I smiled weakly, now clearly embarrassed, and nodded at him.

“The Louboutins,” I agreed. He gave me a knowing look. “I’m new to this if you can’t tell.” He nodded. He kept intently staring at me, not saying a word...and not leaving. I didn’t know what to do…So, I kept babbling. “So, did you like the Diplomat’s speech?” I gestured over to where my boyfriend was still standing, accepting handshakes, smiles, and pats on the back. Prince Alexander looked over his shoulder and rolled his eyes.

“What? That clown? He has no idea what he’s talking about.”

“Oh,” I stammered. “I thought that it was a charming speech.” I looked down at my feet, which were so nicely disguised in shoes that I couldn’t afford. “Well, thank you again for, uhm, saving me? I guess?” I rose my glass in his direction, as if to salute him, before turning around and trying to find my best friend. Not even a minute later, I felt an arm link through mine and I breathed a sigh of relief.

“There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” I whispered.

“You didn’t seem to be looking for me as you were chatting with Alexander.” She smirked.

“That wasn’t me. That was all him. He saved me from my shoes.” Amelia chuckled.

“You never were the most poised, darling.” I nudged her. “But look at you, a diplomat and a prince? Impressive.” I sighed.

“You can have the prince. He probably thinks I’ll fall over him if he gets too close.”

“Elizabeth, we all saw that little scene…well, everyone saw except for Charles,” She rolled her eyes. Of course he didn’t see it.  “But I know that it wasn’t those shoes. You’ve been walking in them since Charles got them for you for your birthday. What really happened?” She knew me too well. I lifted my head to survey the room. The prince was still watching us walk.

I lowered my head and my voice just close enough to her ear so just she could hear.

“Not here, Amelia.” I patted her hand, unlinked our arms, and strolled over to where Charles was still being celebrated. He welcomed me with open arms and before I knew it, I too was receiving handshakes, smiles, and pats on the back.
***

“You promised,” Amelia whined.

“I did no such thing,” I protested.

“Elizabeth!”

“Okay, fine. Give me a minute. I turned my back to her and walked into my closet (I hadn’t even heard of walk-in closets before meeting Charles). I slid out of the long Vera Wang silk party dress and held it in front of me for a moment wondering how my body was even able to wear something so stunning. I draped the dress over the ottoman and pulled my pajamas on before heading back to Amelia. I flopped onto the bed. She was looking at me expectantly. I pulled my knees up to my chest and sighed before starting.

“I’m trying desperately to keep up with him…but sometimes I feel like I’ll get left behind. None of my accomplishments come remotely close to his. I don’t want him to get sick of me. Sometimes I feel like he does…but I already give him so much space. He practically controls our entire relationship. I mean, that doesn’t bother me but sometimes I also just feel like a friend. I like when he holds my hand and kisses my forehead or my cheek and I like when he shows me off. And I love when he tells me that he loves me but I feel like I’m saying it most of the time and he’s just responding with the standard ‘I love you, too’ because he has to. I feel like he says it less and less or maybe it never really happened enough. I don’t know. I just don’t want to be taken for granted.” Amelia nodded. She understood but I didn’t know what else to say so I just shrugged my shoulders. After a minute or two, she finally spoke.

“You know that he loves you.” I nodded.

“I know.” We let the words hang there. It was the first time that I had heard silence all day. I pulled my covers up to my neck. I curled myself into them and willingly welcomed them coupled with the silence. Eventually, I drifted to sleep. 

5.5.13: Will to Win

There was sweat everywhere. It dripped from every part of my body. I looked straight ahead trying to focus on Jake’s whistle. I blinked and it felt like I was in slow-mo. I breathed in and I breathed out. I looked to my right and then I looked to my left to remind myself that it was just me, myself, and I. The whistle sounded and then my world sped up.

My legs were robotic; they’d already been doing this for a half hour…15 seconds later and it was over. I picked up the 25-pound plate that was now at my feet and heaved it onto my back. Lunges, squats, push-ups, crunches; throw the plate on the ground. Sprint back. Repeat.

         “We’re going until you throw up or pass out. Your choice.” Damn it. I don’t throw up during workouts. Never have. Never will. So, passing out it was.

An hour later, and I was practically crawling through the line. Jacob walked over to me.

“Impressive. The fact that this was voluntary and you still did it? Dually noted. You clearly have the drive to win. Maybe you should try and pass it on to some of your teammates.” He extended his hand down to me and I took it.

“I’ll make sure to let them know…but can I please go shower now? I smell worse than the guys’ locker room.” He laughed and nodded his head.

“Okay, go.”