Cindy2
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Posts posted by Cindy2
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Story statement - my protagonist must overcome trauma and the feeling of meaninglessness in her life to save herself and her students from a school shooter.
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The antagonist - Ethan is my protagonist’s student, a disaffected youth who has had a hard life. I haven’t fully fleshed out his background yet, but what I’ve written so far shows that he is the child of a mother who has overcome addiction and has suddenly become “a parent.” She is trying to interfere in his life and tortures his teachers too by standing up for Ethan when he doesn’t deserve it. His background of being around rough characters while his mom was an addict and how these other characters tortured him have made him difficult, surly, and angry. He deals drugs on his phone all day at school (I pulled this from my experience with a student) and is defiant. This causes conflict with multiple teachers, including my protagonist. My plan is that we will see Ethan somewhat bullied at school, but only by those who aren’t afraid of him. He’s the type of kid who puts off a vibe that intimidates your everyday bully: most kids are smart enough to identify a kid who they think would be a future school shooter and stay away from that kid. But not every kid is that smart. So I’m thinking I may need an antagonist for my antagonist - a kid who is either dumb or cocky and has no problem bullying Ethan. But I also have his mother who he defies and demeans and who still tries to protect her son from others - but not from herself.
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Breakout title - A Passing Shadow (from 1 Chronicles 29:15)
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Comparables - Mystic River by Dennis Lehane; Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver. I love Mystic River because it deals with characters who are driven by demons in their past, and there is a murder as a result of some generational trauma. This is what I’m going for. I don’t write as well as Lehane, and the way I’m structuring my novel is not the way he structured his. However, I feel like his novel and mine will both show how the effects of trauma can guide towards a tragic end. I also listed Demon Copperhead because I think my antagonist is a lot like these characters who grew up in tough circumstances that lead them to make tragic choices.
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Core Wound & Primary Conflict - A middle-aged teacher struggles to deal with a defiant student who has dangerous tendencies in order to save her students.
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Other Conflict:
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My protagonist struggles with a past trauma that causes her to wrestle with the meaninglessness of her life. But her past trauma makes her determined to save her students and in the process, she finds the meaning she has been seeking.
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She also struggles with a school system and society that puts teachers and kids in danger. The expectation that teachers will just deal with students who have threatened them will cause conflict between her and others.
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Setting - Right now, my plan is to make the school my primary setting. I haven’t sketched out much about the school, but it will be based on the multiple schools I’ve worked in. I do plan on some interesting secondary characters, including a love interest for my protagonist.
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Algonkian Pre-event Narrative Enhancement Guide - Opening Hook
in Algonkian Writer Conferences - Events, FAQ, Contracts
Posted
The clock ticked away while Anna’s own heart had stopped. How could time keep going when she and the kids were stuck in limbo, huddled close, holding their breaths, sobbing softly, not daring to make even a minute movement that might draw attention to life in this room? Not one of the students even dared to text a parent as they waited for the inevitable shadow to pass the door, jiggle the handle, and start firing. The shots were too close to allow for any mistake, any fumbling, any sound. Anna prayed they had all turned their phones to silent but knew that fear and confusion meant someone probably hadn’t. While they had trained for this all their lives, real life is not training. Real life is much, much messier than training.
The shooting had started only moments ago, and Anna hoped word had not gotten out to the community yet. “Please, God, please keep a phone from ringing,” she pleaded silently as her eyes closed. But she knew her luck wouldn’t hold out long - somebody on the other side of school probably was far enough away from the shots to get the word out. And then there would be sirens, texts and calls from parents, desperate firing as the gunman took the last moments of his life to take as many with him as possible. And Anna knew without doubt who the gunman was. She had been warning the school administrators all year. And she also knew who he was coming after. These students had the misfortune to be in class with the teacher who was most likely to die today.
“Miss V? Miss V?” a student whispered. Monte, the class clown. Oh God, no, not right now. Her only thought could be how to save her students - she couldn’t deal with his nonsense right now.
“Monte, please,” she pleaded quietly. “I can’t right now.”
“No, no, Miss V, listen to me. I think we should go out the window.”
A quiet buzz erupted from a few other students, but Anna shushed them. The shots were almost on their hallway. Maybe Ethan would think they were at lunch. But then she remembered the schedule posted next to her door in the hallway. “Shit!” was the only thing that came to mind.
“Monte, that window is too tiny. Only a child could fit through it,” she whispered. Who the hell builds classrooms with tiny windows - or no windows? She sighed internally.
“No, Miss V, we can bust out the part that doesn’t open. Then we could all fit.”
Anna wanted to cry, but crying wouldn’t solve anything. She had to hold it together, just as she always had.
“Monte, we can’t make a sound right now. He’s just around the corner and will hear that glass break, assuming we can even break it. Our best bet is to huddle in this corner.”
“Miss V, I can’t stay here. This just isn’t right. That barricade isn’t going to hold him. And you know he’s coming here.”
Anna closed her eyes and sighed. Monte knew just as well as she did who the shooter was.
Just then, Anna heard shots so close that her ears rang. She covered them and sunk lower to the ground. The kids whimpered and more tears fell. A few of them called out for their parents as they sobbed. The screams of the wounded from next door pierced her soul. She couldn’t hear the clock now.