My Best

My Best

    I work for a living, writing novels and short stories.  Several of my short stories and one of my novels have been published.  People like to read my work, and I get feedback from people in the form of reviews.  When I write a short story, there is a science that I use for its structure, form, and style.  Writing a novel is also a science, and I am proud of how I write them.  Being a writer is an experience.

    After I wrote a short story about a boy who meets an adult who helps the boy learn new skills, I found myself in a similar scenario.  I was spending a lot of time with a young man, who lived near me and my family, helping him become a better writer, writing short stories together, and teaching him the ropes.  This was fun for me, because I’d never helped anyone with their writing before, but I felt that I had something to offer the young man, so I gave it my best shot.  My young writer friend also tried his hardest to improve as a writer, and to learn the disciplines that would help him become a better writer.

    The young man whom I’d befriended and taken under my wing was elated when I told him that I would help him become a better writer.  He had come back to me, ready to write, and learn, after a week’s worth of contemplation.  It had taken a week for my friend to come back, because he said that he wanted a confirmation that would arise from within him that would allow him to come back to me, ready to learn.  When the young man arrived at my doorstep, the first morning of we began to join forces, he was all smiles, and so was I.

    I have known that my young apprentice was a writer for several years.  Whenever I saw him, I would ask him how his writing was going, and that we’d have to compare our work sometime.  One day, when I ran into him at the grocery store one evening, I asked him about his writing, and he said that being a writer had been slow, and that he felt he needed some help in some areas.  I suggested that I could help him if he liked, and that he should come over to my house when he had a chance.  There we could look at his writing, and see what sort of things we could discuss.  He said that he would think it over, and that he would stop by my home sometime during the week that lay ahead.

    One week later, after ringing my doorbell, Randy, my young writer friend, stood on my front porch waiting for me to answer the door.  When I let him inside of my home, we made ourselves comfortable in my office, where I do most of my writing.  He pulled out a bunch of papers out of a leather attaché case.  He announced that he’d brought most of his writing that he’d been working on since the beginning of the year, when his writing had begun to slow down.  I told Randy that it is never a good thing for a writer’s work to become difficult, and that I would check out some of his work, to see if I could help him.

    Randy was right.  His work appeared to be sloppier than I’d figured he’d been capable of.  Many of his paragraphs were to short, some of the sentences were too long, and the overall appearance of his writing’s structure hung loose and fragmented.  I smiled, knowing that I could help Randy’s work come back to a healthy state.  I informed Randy that I could help him, but that we would have to discuss some important writing subjects, and that practice would be necessary.  Randy smiled back at me, with hope in his eyes.  He agreed that he thought that I could help him, and that he would be willing to practice, and become a better writer.

    I was excited.  I had finished writing a short story about a boy who befriends an adult who helps him become a talented young man, and now the same thing was taking shape in my office with Randy.  I began to read some of Randy’s short stories.  They were good stories, with interesting plots, characters, and themes.  Randy’s spelling was consistent, and his grammar was looking good, too.  There were rough spots in some of Randy’s writing, too though.  He was going to need some help in some areas that I felt I could help him with, and he was also going to need to practice writing everyday.  I told Randy that I was a published, and successful writer, and that I could help him.  We discussed what he would need to do to begin becoming a better writer, including what practice would mean, and when the two of us were going to meet to discuss his progress and review his work.  Randy was excited too.

    In my office, what I do most of my writing on is a big wooden desk that I had brought over from Asia.  Randy sat in a chair looking at me read one of his short stories.  I was delighted that he has chosen to come to my home and let me help him with his writing, because his stories had become interesting to read while sitting at my desk.  Once I was through reading several of Randy’s short stories, I put them in neat stack on my desk, they were good stories, but his writing did seem to have holes in certain areas that would need fixing, and a few other adjustments would have to be made in the writer, I hypothesized.

    I could feel Randy’s anticipation to know what I’d thought of his writing coming from his direction after I’d finished reading.  In my mind, I rehearsed what I was going to tell Randy before I said anything.  Then, when I’d thought enough, I explained to Randy that his writing was good, but that there were some rough spots that he could work on that I’d point out to him, and that he would be welcome to come back to my home in a day or so to show me the revisions that he’d made.  I suggested that he try rewriting one of his stories as a method of practice, and added that he’d need to begin writing two thousand words a day.  The two thousand words a day could be about anything, and could come in the form of short stories if he liked.  Randy thanked me and we shook hands before he left.  I could tell that he felt he’d accomplished something by coming over to my house and letting me read some of his stuff.

    After Randy left, I went back to my office and started to look over some of his short stories that he’d left with me.  Since he was going to come back, he left a few copies of things he’d written for me to do a complete run through, and to make observations.  The first short story of his that I looked at was about a lodge in the woods where people had been illegally killing animals that were on the endangered species list.  The second short story that I read of his had to do with state government officials that contained a lot of dialogue, and lacked any informative subject matter.  The third and last story that he had written that I read was well written, and about a duck and a dog that become friends and leave the country behind for the big city.  I liked all three stories that I’d read.  I opened one of the drawers of my desk and pulled out a big red pen that I was going to use to make comments on the copies he’d left me that I’d just read.

    The first story I began to make comments and corrections on was the story about the lodge in the woods and all of the illegal activity going on there.  I liked the story, it was descriptive, and told the reader a lot about the place, and people involved in it, but it was hard to read because of the structural problems Randy’s story was experiencing.  Every time that there needed to be a break in a paragraph, there wasn’t one; and where at one point in the story there could have been more action, when the pouching was taking place, there wasn’t any.  I wrote several comments as I read this story over again, and made the necessary marks where he would need to work on dividing up his paragraphs.

    The second story of Randy’s that I worked on that night in my office was the story about the state government workers.  The story was interesting, and the plot revolved around who had the best golf scores, and worked the hardest in the office.  I decided to write a long comment on the last page of the copy he’d left me, explaining that I liked his story a lot, but that he’d managed to write a complete story using only dialogue, and that he needed to fill in the empty holes that existed inside of his writing with descriptions, and things that he could use to create a backdrop for the story, but that overall I had enjoyed reading this story and that he had done a good job developing a story.

    The last story written by Randy that I looked at was the one about the duck and the dog that become friends.  Randy’s story was fun to read, and he did a good job writing it.  Randy managed to fit a lot of information into a big short story, with believable characters, a good plot, with a very thorough narrative, and lots of dialogue. When I was through reading this story, that Randy had given the title, In a Year’s Time, I was impressed and confused why he given me this story to read, and complaining about feeling like a bad writer.  I realized that Randy must feel that there are more interesting things to write about than just ducks and dogs that are given human characteristics, and talk.  I wrote above the title, “Randy, are you lonely?  Do you need something else to write about besides pets that can talk?”  I thought that maybe he would warm up to a question like that, and that we could talk about that topic the next time we saw each other.

    When Randy came back to my house, three days later, he had more copies of stories he’d written, some re-writes, and some new stories that he’d written that I’d assigned him to write.  Randy said that he had been working very hard improving on his writing, and that with all of the work he’d done since I last saw him, that he could even tell he was beginning to feel better about his writing and himself.  I told Randy that was exactly what I wanted him to come back and tell me.  I also informed Randy that was exactly what I wanted him to come back and tell me in three more days.  After reviewing Randy’s new work, and sharing with him what I thought of the work he’d left me, I instructed Randy to go home and write some more, and come back in three days.

    Randy returned three days later, he had with him some copies of recent work he’d finished.  Randy and I continued to meet, once every three days for a whole year after those first couple of visits to my office.  Over the course of a year, Randy’s work became excellent material to read and enjoy.  I, too, became a more inspired writer, and I am glad that I had the opportunity to share some moments with my friend Randy, and I’m sure he is too.