Sarah+Wilson

[|Link to my final project]

Hey everyone,

My name is Sarah Wilson, I am a senior at the University of Central Arkansas studying Creative Writing and History. I am looking at graduate programs in Nonfiction and Scriptwriting. I'm super excited about class this year and can't wait to get started!

Workshop two : <--- LOOK I FINALLY GOT IT TO WORK! :-D *** Just a little background on my story, the book is about this set of souls that keep finding each other in every life time. Throughout the book will be small scenes of them in other lives where they meet and something happens. It opens with one of them dying in a previous life and it sets up that they will continue to meet. However, the main storyline of the book is between Harper, a girl who is bullied on a regular basis at school, and Gus. This scene takes place after Patrick, the bully, has pulled down Harper’s pants in biology class to reveal her period panties. What I really need help on with this piece is how to work into their storyline that they are the same souls. I also want to know if you think that some sort of supernatural element other than reincarnation would be helpful to the piece. I have several plot points planned out for the story, but I haven’t quite figured out everything so any suggestions are welcomed. Thanks, Sarah. In Another Life

Chapter #?

Harper sat on the side of the bridge, like she did every night. Though it was almost spring break, the water was still extremely cold, making it clear enough to see through to the fish swimming at the bottom. It wasn’t that the river below was very deep, just that it was full of rocks and therefore rushing water that always seemed to be able to calm Harper down before she had to go home smiling to her mother. She had given up on letting her mother know what was really going on. Threats of police intervention and conferences with parents had only made things worse. The water rushed underneath her and she watched the rocks catch small beams of light as the sun set. With the final glisten, Harper found herself in darkness, where she finally let the tears roll down her cheek. “I’ve had enough!” Harper snapped suddenly. She even surprised herself a little. She stood up on the edge of the bridge looking at the rushing water and rocks beneath her. At first she tried to balance herself by holding onto post, but then she realized how stupid that was. She bent her knees but stopped herself. Shouldn’t she write something, maybe a note as to why she was doing this? But that would mean more time in the awful place. She looked down at her backpack on the ground. No one would miss her anyway. No one really cared. She looked back at the water, this time more determined than before. She bent her knees again and took a deep breath in. Her toes were already off the edge, just like her Dad had taught her to do when he was teaching her how to jump off a diving board. It’s probably a good thing he wouldn’t know that she was putting his advice to use in this particular situation, she thought. She chuckled to herself as she prepared to leap… oh if only he knew. She counted down in her head 3 … 2 …. Arms wrapped around her, pulling her back onto bridge. “What are you doing?” Harper and the stranger yelled at the same time. “What do you mean what am I doing?” The stranger said, “What are //you// doing?” “I was … looking …” “Oh really, I thought you were going to jump.” “No I was just looking.” “With bent knees?” “Look it’s none of your business okay?” Harper said sweeping her backpack off the ground and throwing it over her shoulder, accidentally whacking the guy in the arm while she was at it. Thus she felt the need to add a sarcastic, “Sorry.” “I know what it looks like when someone is about to jump off of something. You had perfect diving stance back there. What were you planning to go head first into rocks?” “Why do you keep asking me questions? I said I was looking. That is all.” She began to storm off across the field that was between her and her house. The boy didn’t follow her. “Patrick’s an idiot you know!” He screamed after her. Harper whipped around, full of anger, “What do you know about Patrick?” “I know he’s an idiot. I know that the way he treats you is wrong.” “Well, I’m a big girl, I can handle it.” “By jumping off a bridge?” “I was looking!” The boy walked up to her. He was handsome, he was more than handsome he was gorgeous. He wasn’t too much taller than her, but his pale skin against his icy blue eyes and chocolate brown hair was enough to draw any girl in. He wasn’t too fat, nor was he too thin; instead he was just the perfect size. She could tell that he was the type of guy you wanted to hold and to hold you. He put one of his hands around her upper arm, reminding her just how fat she is. “I told you, I know when someone is going to jump. Plus, I know what he does to you. Everyone knows what he does to you.” “Yeah, well no one stops him.” She began to walk away again. She could try tomorrow if she wanted to. Or maybe she could fake being sick again, she had gotten relatively good at that until her mother caught on. But it had been a while, so maybe she could get away with the cramping trick again. It wasn’t like the entire school couldn’t prove that she was on her period. “I watch you!” Harper picked up her pace a little. That was something people usually hear before they’re murdered in movies. She heard his footsteps following, he was catching up. She had a choice, stop and face him or run like hell for home. She stopped as he jogged past her, not noticing for a moment that she wasn’t in front of him anymore. “I’m sorry,” he panted, “I didn’t mean to scare you …” “Yes, because saying you watch me isn’t scary at all.” “Sarcasm,” he chuckled, “you know I like you already.” “Just look stop watching me and stop asking me questions.” “I just meant that I see you here every night. At first I stopped because I thought you were pretty and liked to pass by you two or three times on my way home. But you were so into your thoughts that you never noticed me. So then I just wanted to know what you were doing. I started sitting over here doing my homework, making sure no one bothered you. If anyone from school would walk by, I would watch to make sure you were left alone.” “Right … still a little creepy.” “Sorry.” “I mean, I don’t even know your name.” “Gustavo. But please call me Gus. I hate my name, plan to change it right after I graduate. My mom went through this strange pizza craving phase while she was pregnant with me, named me after the owner of the restaurant.” “I don’t know, Gustavo kind of fits you. It’s a great stalker/ future serial killer name.” “I’ll stop watching you if you want. I’m sorry, I just … I don’t understand why Patrick does what he does, and you really need a friend.” “I don’t need anything.” “Swallow your pride for a moment and admit it. You need at least one friend and I’m a good friend to have.” “Why should I trust you?” “Because I pulled you off a bridge.” “Probably to tell the whole school tomorrow.” “Fine, meet me here after school tomorrow. If no one knows then we’re friends.” “Fine.” “Can I walk you home?” “No.” “Right, well then…” “Good night Gustavo.” Harper said with a hint of disgust. “Good night Harper.” Gus whispered back. He stood there for a moment and watched Harper go into her house. Her shadow crossed across the living room curtain and a light flicked on in the front window. He hoped she was smiling. Gus walked down past her house and down the alley. He saw Patrick’s truck parked in the back driveway. The alley was dark and empty, no one was around. The house across the alley from Patrick’s truck was building a new brick fence. He took a brick and smashed in the driver’s side window. Glass shattering everywhere, falling onto his shoes and into the car. It was supposedly going to rain that night. He placed the brick back in its place and made his way through the gate. As far as he was concerned, this was only the beginning and his brother deserved everything he had coming to him.

Workshop piece one (originally this was double spaced but when I posted it here it didn't work, however this is the file ): Sarah Wilson

The Trio Goes Coning The water in the air clung to our skin mixing with the sweat as we stood in the middle of the empty street lit only by a single lamp post. We stood staring at the masterpiece we had never expected sitting in front of us. It was massive, something we would never have thought of doing ourselves, but definitely something our competitive natures needed to outdo. We tried to quite our chuckles as we hopped back into the light gold Toyota 4Runner that Holly had received as a high school graduation present less than two months before. We called ourselves the trio. I had met Holly and Olga both my junior year of high school, but didn’t introduce Holly and Olga until Spring Break of our senior year. Instantly we became inseparable. Everyone knew us as the trio, wherever one of us went, we all went. Tonight was just like any other summer night, three teenaged girls living care free only weeks away from moving away for college. In the summer of 2007, the thing to do in my upscale suburban town was called “coning”. Kids would run around stealing traffic cones and then place them on top of a friend’s car. It happened quite often, to the point where stealing a cone almost became unnecessary as you could easily re-gift your cone the next weekend. Possibly a month or so before, Holly had received the cone that was sitting in the back seat of her car. We all looked at it sadly. Our master plan was to cone Jay, a boy who had messed with both Olga and Holly’s hearts (I was simply along for the ride, as usual), had been thwarted by some teens who could sneak out before us. Ours was cleverer though... or so we thought. Before leaving the house we had carefully crafted a quote to write on the traffic cone in order to personalize especially for Jay, and to make it more difficult for him to pass it on to someone else. We rolled along the street with the car lights off and pulled over in front of his house. We all stared at his car as we got out. It wasn’t a special car, instead it was an old, beat up little car, not what I had imagined when my friends talked about him. But someone had beaten us to it and they hadn’t used just one simple cone on top of the car, they had used an army of barricades, fat cones, skinny cones, round cones, triangle cones, even those flat bright orange and caution tape metallic silver fences. The entire car was surrounded. We weren’t the type of girls to walk away. We climbed back in the car looking at our one measly little cone. There was no way it could trump the collection out there. “We steal them!” One of us whispered in the darkness. It was with those three simple words that all of our faces lit up with devious grins and we got to work. Holly stayed with the car, loading the cones and acting as a lookout, while Olga with her petite Russian stature carried the small cones and I hauled the large barriers back to the trunk of the car. Finally Holly and Olga placed our simple cone on top of the car and we drove off. “So who do you think did that to him?” I asked from the back seat. I was stretched out staring at the ceiling, wanting to sleep but not wanting to deal with the crap they would give me if I did. “Ben, Katy, the band group.” Holly replied nonchalantly. I had no idea who any of these people were. She went to Plano East Senior High School and I went to Plano Senior High School with Olga. Holly knew who they were though and where they all lived. “I have an idea…” Olga said. The last few times I had heard (or uttered) the words “I have an idea” with these two it had landed us out in the middle of nowhere contemplating buying a goat, coaching Holly on how to drive on a highway (while neither Olga or I had a driver’s license), and on a mission to hit ten new 7 11s in one day. But, as always, I was along for the ride and that meant I was all in. “What if we… returned the cones,” Olga suggested. There was no what if about it. As soon as the words were spoken we were doing it. “We need sharpies,” Holly said, “We’re going to personalize all of them.” When a group of teenagers walk into a Wal-Mart at three in the morning to buy a package of sharpies and three energy drinks, it is safe to assume they are up to no good. The short elderly woman with fake brown hair and cigarette wrinkles covering her face realized this. But what could she do other than card us to make sure the one paying was 18 and then let us on our merry way. The job of writing was left to me and Olga. She got the smaller cones that still consumed most of the free space in the front seat, while I got the larger, heavier cones. That was the joy of being in the back seat. We planned out a map that would take us all over two cities and hopefully in no more than an hour and a half. We had to be back in the house before Holly’s dad woke up to go to work at 5. Our 3 AM creativity was something that we thought was genius. The first stop on our list was the reason we became the trio in the first place, Holly’s ex-boyfriend, Ben. Without him breaking up with Holly, I would never have suggested that Holly and Olga hang out while I was out of town. Then they would have never met and we would have been where we were then. Ben’s house was nicer than I expected and much further than we had intended to drive, but he had definitely created the pile of cones and messed with my friend, so of all people he deserved a cone. Olga wrote “All is fair in love and war” on the cone, and then we gave it to Holly, leaving the car running, with the lights off around the corner. We watched as she snuck down the street, his car was in the garage. She looked around and then walked up his side walk to the front door. The porch light flashed on and she looked like a deer in the headlights, frozen there. Then she dropped the cone and ran, as if leaving a cone on a front door step was equal to robbery. She got in the car and drove off before the door fully swung shut. After that our blood was pumping and the adrenaline was rushing through our veins. We had no need for energy drinks anymore. Each house from that point on was from our carefully planned route. One by one we got rid of the pile of cones, leaving everyone a personalized message on their cone as we took turns placing them on top of cars, mail boxes, welcome mats and even a bush outside their window. It was 4 AM and we had been making relatively good time. We had two stops left to go, my ex-boyfriend and another massive coning culprit. We drove through the streets of the culprit’s neighborhood not knowing anything about where we were. “Turn there!” I said. I had spotted the street. Holly was getting tired, I could see that, but we only had two houses left until we accomplished our mission. “Damn it!” She yelled from the front seat as she screeched the car to a halt. Suddenly the car jerked backwards, she was making a three point turn. “Holly, why don’t you just drive up the …” CRASH! In the dark street, Holly had failed to see the massive midnight blue pickup truck that was parked in front of the house. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!” Holly repeated through scattered breaths of hyperventilation. “What do I do? What do I do? Oh Shit!” “Drive!” Olga screamed at her. “Leave a note,” I said in the calm, know-it-all, mothering voice that I was so well known for at the time. Apparently in her high anxiety state, Holly took to the screaming better and she slammed on her accelerator harder than she had when she had been caught by the light. “This is my third accident in three months! My parents are going to kill me!” “Pull over,” I told her, “I’ll check it out.” The back tail light on her 4runner was broken and there were streaks of blue paint mixing in with the gold. She had definitely done some damage, not only to her car but to the other car as well. “How bad is it?” she yelled from the car. I could tell she was hoping to hear some good news, but I didn’t have any for her. “Well… your parents are definitely going to see this.” Holly broke down crying in the front seat. We all sat there for a moment in silence as she regained her composer. “You should go back,” I told Holly. “I don’t know where it was.” “I do.” I said calmly. This is how it usually worked in our group. They would get us lost and I would find our way back. Maps and layouts always came easily to me and I could remember where all the turns were. Turn by turn I took us back through the maze until we were back at the single stop light corner, this time seeing the outline of the dark truck in front of us. Holly got out and left a note on the door with her phone number and name and an apology. The car was badly dented and pieces of her brake light were all of the ground. She climbed back in the car, still obviously upset, with two cones still in the trunk we went home. It was four twenty five when we got back, and thought we still had time to spare. Holly was the last through the door and as I cut through the kitchen, there he was. Holly’s dad. He was a pudgy, shorter man, with brown hair that was balding and glasses. He was in a white under shirt and his boxers. He didn’t look like a very frightening man, but he always made me feel a little on edge. I wasn’t sure how he managed it, but I never want to be on his bad side. I screamed at the sight of him. Not because he was scary, but simply because I wasn’t expecting it. Olga came in behind me and then Holly with her red puffy eyes. He took a moment to yell at us for being out all night when we were supposed to be in his house. Then Holly had to tell him. It didn’t take but about ten seconds for Olga and me to find a way to sneak out of the kitchen and into the bedroom. We listened intently through the door as Holly cried and apologized while her dad chewed her out for getting into yet another car accident. After an hour her dad left and we all tried to go to sleep. I curled up on the floor staring out the window at the now broken new 4runner sitting outside. Eventually I drifted off to sleep with another crazy trio adventure added to the list.