Re: Dinner with a BP

[Guest guest]

OMG...this thing removes all tab indentations!! Sorry that is so tough to

read...

[Guest guest]

Very accurate, imo. Would love to read more.

>

> Hi all,

>

> I'm trying to write a novel with BP characters. [...]

[Guest guest]

Ro -

That scene rang very true to me. I could picture my BPD grandnada saying those

things and behaving exactly that way.

Is it just me, or do BPDs have a weird fixation on decrying other folks'

behavior as " snotty " and " nasty " ? I swear that I've NEVER heard anyone but my

grandnada characterize people as being snotty or nasty (well, not including the

Janet " Nasty Boy " sorta nasty, anyway. =) ) But I've seen a number of

stories here where nadas used those same terms, and always with the same

melodramatic, venomous tone. Brrrr!

- astrella

Dinner with a BP

Posted by: " Roganda " UPSTARTLL8@... sereine_2000

Wed Jun 2, 2010 10:09 pm (PDT)

Hi all,

I'm trying to write a novel with BP characters. This is about a 4-page dinner

scene I finished a bit ago. If anyone has time to read it, I want to sort of

road-test it to be sure the emotions and characters ring true to what a lot of

people have experienced. I'd really appreciate any time anyone could take.

, the BP here known as " Ma, " has been harassing her former employer after

losing her job, and narrowly escaped trouble with the police. She has been

obsessing over it to everyone she knows.

Without further ado...

Ma fixed spaghetti. had always loved his mother's spaghetti. Mingled in the

garlic-sweet aroma of meat and tomatoes wafted the memories of dancing

candlelight and childhood friends giggling and laughing across the table. Dad

had never been home for dinner. Ma had filled the Friday nights with spaghetti

dinners and ghost stories outside under the maple tree when the weather was

nice. Neighborhood kids would huddle on an old pink blanket around a candle,

watching lightning bugs flash in the darkness. They'd hold contests to see who

could catch the most of them.

Tonight Ma was in a state. " You'll never believe what at the gym said to

me! " she began, filling a sandwich plate with spaghetti and sitting down to that

and a bowl of salad. filled his own regular-sized dinner plate and poured

himself a glass of iced tea from the pitcher on the counter. His mother had

always made the best iced tea.

" Didja get tea, Ma? "

" Oops, I forgot my tea! "

He grabbed her a glass, added ice cubes from the freezer, and poured. " Here you

go. " He put it in front of her.

Other guys on his squad had to deflect questions about open murders at their

family gatherings; never had to worry about that. When he'd first called Ma

to tell her he'd made detective, she'd started up with, You'll never believe

what so-and-so did to me, and it was an hour before he could ever break his

news.

He sat down and started to cut his spaghetti into manageable length. He wasn't

one to bother with twirling it around his fork; besides, it gave him something

to concentrate on. She could make him listen, but she couldn't make him look at

her.

" I was talking about that mess at the paper, and she was standing there drying

her hair, and all of a sudden she switches off the hair dryer?so everyone can

hear, mind you?and turns around to me in front of everybody in the locker room.

And she says, 'You're not the first person who's ever lost a job!' Real mean and

snotty. "

glanced up at her. She stared indignantly at him out of her wide blue eyes.

" Then she says, 'You're going to have to do what the rest of us do?' like I'm an

idiot or something?'Buck up, suck it up, and move on!' " Her head pecked back and

forth, strawberry curls bouncing at her cheeks. " She said it just like that?real

nasty. "

had had a point, but kept that part to himself, and only said what

he knew wouldn't cause trouble. " That's a rather extreme way to put things,

especially in front of other people, " he conceded. That was the only way to deal

with Ma: Respond only to what you could agree with.

" Yeah, isn't it though! " She stabbed at her salad. " I was standing there gaping

like a fish, because I didn't know what to say, and then she starts going on

about how she's been laid off three times, and 'she couldn't sit around moaning

about it because she had three kids to feed.' And some stupid thing about how I

'was trying to turn back the clock.' "

agreed, but he forced that assessment back down with a mouthful of hot

spaghetti. That was the thing with Ma. You never knew when you were going to

have a pleasant home visit and when you were going to have to sit on the steam

or blow your stack.

His mother crunched broccoli and swallowed. " And the whole locker room went dead

silent and I was so embarrassed! In front of my whole class I'd just finished

teaching, and not one of those ladies stood up for me. Not one! "

Because they all agreed, thought silently, and couldn't hold back a

snicker. He covered it with a sip of tea and a fake choke.

Ma stood up, reached over, and slapped him on the back a few times. " Are you

okay? " she said.

patted his chest and nodded, and she relaunched. " And I was so upset, I

just started crying right there. And you know what did? "

didn't even have time to say, " What? "

" She rolled her eyes at me and stalked out! And I'm standing there with tears

rolling down my face. In front of my whole class! "

shoveled in spaghetti. He knew what she wanted him to say: Oh, you poor

thing! That was horrible! What a mean thing to do! She's a terrible person!

And that was what he had done?when he was six. And eight. And ten. These days he

envied people like who skated the periphery of his mother's world. They

were the ones who got off easy.

All he could mutter was, " Gee whiz, Ma! "

" Then these three nice ladies came over and started patting me on the arm and

handing me tissues. I think they were afraid to say anything to 's face.

I guess I can't really blame them. teaches this noonday abs-blaster

class with all these rich middle-aged ladies with sixty-year-old faces and

twenty-year-old figures who all have BMW's and no jobs! They're in there an hour

every other day doing nothing but different ab crunches, and then an hour on the

cardio machines after that. And then half an hour with weights after that! If

you're just a regular person and you don't work in a gym, who else has the time

for that? I don't know who that thinks she is. I guess she thinks her

shit-don't-stink-by association! " his mother said with the simper of a

middle-school girl who knows she's not supposed to curse.

She finally stopped for breath and attacked her salad, ferociously pinning down

an errant leaf of romaine.

" God, Ma, that's horrible, " said in a tone that hopefully conveyed enough

sympathy to allow him to escape maligning the other party. He had made that

mistake before in quarrels within the family, and then had to endure the burning

shame of Ma telling Grandma or somebody exactly what he'd said about them?at the

dinner table in front of them.

" We're all going to have lunch next week, " his mother prattled on. " I think

's been rude to them, too. They didn't act like they liked her. Maybe

it's because they don't have rich husbands and beach houses and drive BMW's! "

Her voice rose into little girl pitch with a snide childish edge, like a

schoolyard put-down.

checked his watch under the edge of the table. Three more hours of this and

she should be in bed. He had to start his surveillance pretty early, which

should give him an excuse to hustle out.

There was only one good thing about this: Just when he started feeling guilty

about not wanting to visit, she'd do this again and reawaken the many memories

of why he didn't like to visit.

The shitty thing about this being his mother, though, was that he still wasn't

excused from feeling guilty about it.

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[Guest guest]

>

>

>

> Ro -

>

> That scene rang very true to me. I could picture my BPD grandnada saying

those things and behaving exactly that way.

>

> Is it just me, or do BPDs have a weird fixation on decrying other folks'

behavior as " snotty " and " nasty " ? I swear that I've NEVER heard anyone but my

grandnada characterize people as being snotty or nasty (well, not including the

Janet " Nasty Boy " sorta nasty, anyway. =) ) But I've seen a number of

stories here where nadas used those same terms, and always with the same

melodramatic, venomous tone. Brrrr!

Hey, thanks, guys. I was hoping to get at least a couple of reactions from a

couple of folks living in the trenches.

I have a private Yahoo group where more of the story is posted and various

people have been commenting on it. Tina, I sent you a link.

--.

[Guest guest]

Thanks for the invite Roganda! I can't wait to read.

I think I'm having technical troubles with the invite. Sent you an offline email

with details.

Tina

> >

> >

> >

> > Ro -

> >

> > That scene rang very true to me. I could picture my BPD grandnada saying

those things and behaving exactly that way.

> >

> > Is it just me, or do BPDs have a weird fixation on decrying other folks'

behavior as " snotty " and " nasty " ? I swear that I've NEVER heard anyone but my

grandnada characterize people as being snotty or nasty (well, not including the

Janet " Nasty Boy " sorta nasty, anyway. =) ) But I've seen a number of

stories here where nadas used those same terms, and always with the same

melodramatic, venomous tone. Brrrr!

>

>

> Hey, thanks, guys. I was hoping to get at least a couple of reactions from a

couple of folks living in the trenches.

>

> I have a private Yahoo group where more of the story is posted and various

people have been commenting on it. Tina, I sent you a link.

>

> --.

>

[Guest guest]

melodrama is definitely their MO! I remember my mother describing things to

me in such dramtic terms...something was always 'her worst nightmare' or

'horrible, terrible, cruel, crushing. " She once came to my house and after

she got back home she told me, " your father and I nearly got killed on the

way home. I hope you're happy that you moved away. "

They didn't even get in an accident. It was a supposed 'near miss.'

In a message dated 6/3/2010 9:13:27 P.M. Eastern Daylight Time,

UPSTARTLL8@... writes:

>

>

>

> Ro -

>

> That scene rang very true to me. I could picture my BPD grandnada saying

those things and behaving exactly that way.

>

> Is it just me, or do BPDs have a weird fixation on decrying other folks'

behavior as " snotty " and " nasty " ? I swear that I've NEVER heard anyone but

my grandnada characterize people as being snotty or nasty (well, not

including the Janet " Nasty Boy " sorta nasty, anyway. =) ) But I've seen

a number of stories here where nadas used those same terms, and always with

the same melodramatic, venomous tone. Brrrr!

Hey, thanks, guys. I was hoping to get at least a couple of reactions from

a couple of folks living in the trenches.

I have a private Yahoo group where more of the story is posted and various

people have been commenting on it. Tina, I sent you a link.

--.

[Guest guest]

Usually, when someone says, " Look at what I just wrote! " I kind of cringe. I

don't like to respond when there's nothing nice to say and they just want me to

provide affirmation for them, like a parent to a young child.

But for some reason, I decided to keep reading your post. What's more, I'm

really glad I did. You have a brilliant style, and as a reader I felt compelled

to continue not out of obligation but out of interest. Even in this draft

state, you have managed to present characters that are accessible and easy to

relate to--everyone has encountered someone like Ma or felt like at one

time or another.

I like that you have included things that likes about Ma: her talent for

cooking, fond memories of Friday nights together outdoors, even her appearance.

It highlights the conflicting emotions KOs have towards our parents. The scene

you have created could have happened in any of our kitchens. A reader should

get the sense long before you point it out to him (at least a KO reader will!)

that Ma has been dumping her problems on long before he was an adult. I

see his struggle for self-assertion: " She could make him listen, but she

couldn't make him look at her, " and I watch anxiously to see if anything will

force the tension brewing just under the surface to boil over. I can see the

expression on his face without your even having to describe it. I can hear the

eggshells crunching under his feet, even as he sits stiff and tense at the

table.

Very well written. I wish you much success as you complete the project and look

for publication.

KT

WTOAdultChildren1 , " Roganda " wrote:

>

> Hi all,

>

> I'm trying to write a novel with BP characters. This is about a 4-page dinner

scene I finished a bit ago. If anyone has time to read it, I want to sort of

road-test it to be sure the emotions and characters ring true to what a lot of

people have experienced. I'd really appreciate any time anyone could take.

>

> , the BP here known as " Ma, " has been harassing her former employer

after losing her job, and narrowly escaped trouble with the police. She has

been obsessing over it to everyone she knows.

>

> Without further ado...

>

>

>

>

> Ma fixed spaghetti. had always loved his mother's spaghetti. Mingled

in the garlic-sweet aroma of meat and tomatoes wafted the memories of dancing

candlelight and childhood friends giggling and laughing across the table. Dad

had never been home for dinner. Ma had filled the Friday nights with spaghetti

dinners and ghost stories outside under the maple tree when the weather was

nice. Neighborhood kids would huddle on an old pink blanket around a candle,

watching lightning bugs flash in the darkness. They'd hold contests to see who

could catch the most of them.

> Tonight Ma was in a state. " You'll never believe what at the gym

said to me! " she began, filling a sandwich plate with spaghetti and sitting down

to that and a bowl of salad. filled his own regular-sized dinner plate and

poured himself a glass of iced tea from the pitcher on the counter. His mother

had always made the best iced tea.

> " Didja get tea, Ma? "

> " Oops, I forgot my tea! "

> He grabbed her a glass, added ice cubes from the freezer, and poured. " Here

you go. " He put it in front of her.

> Other guys on his squad had to deflect questions about open murders at their

family gatherings; never had to worry about that. When he'd first called

Ma to tell her he'd made detective, she'd started up with, You'll never believe

what so-and-so did to me, and it was an hour before he could ever break his

news.

> He sat down and started to cut his spaghetti into manageable length. He

wasn't one to bother with twirling it around his fork; besides, it gave him

something to concentrate on. She could make him listen, but she couldn't make

him look at her.

> " I was talking about that mess at the paper, and she was standing there

drying her hair, and all of a sudden she switches off the hair dryer—so everyone

can hear, mind you—and turns around to me in front of everybody in the locker

room. And she says, 'You're not the first person who's ever lost a job!' Real

mean and snotty. "

> glanced up at her. She stared indignantly at him out of her wide blue

eyes.

> " Then she says, 'You're going to have to do what the rest of us do—' like I'm

an idiot or something—'Buck up, suck it up, and move on!' " Her head pecked back

and forth, strawberry curls bouncing at her cheeks. " She said it just like

that—real nasty. "

> had had a point, but kept that part to himself, and only said

what he knew wouldn't cause trouble. " That's a rather extreme way to put

things, especially in front of other people, " he conceded. That was the only

way to deal with Ma: Respond only to what you could agree with.

> " Yeah, isn't it though! " She stabbed at her salad. " I was standing there

gaping like a fish, because I didn't know what to say, and then she starts going

on about how she's been laid off three times, and 'she couldn't sit around

moaning about it because she had three kids to feed.' And some stupid thing

about how I 'was trying to turn back the clock.' "

> agreed, but he forced that assessment back down with a mouthful of hot

spaghetti. That was the thing with Ma. You never knew when you were going to

have a pleasant home visit and when you were going to have to sit on the steam

or blow your stack.

> His mother crunched broccoli and swallowed. " And the whole locker room went

dead silent and I was so embarrassed! In front of my whole class I'd just

finished teaching, and not one of those ladies stood up for me. Not one! "

> Because they all agreed, thought silently, and couldn't hold back a

snicker. He covered it with a sip of tea and a fake choke.

> Ma stood up, reached over, and slapped him on the back a few times. " Are you

okay? " she said.

> patted his chest and nodded, and she relaunched. " And I was so upset, I

just started crying right there. And you know what did? "

> didn't even have time to say, " What? "

> " She rolled her eyes at me and stalked out! And I'm standing there with

tears rolling down my face. In front of my whole class! "

> shoveled in spaghetti. He knew what she wanted him to say: Oh, you

poor thing! That was horrible! What a mean thing to do! She's a terrible

person!

> And that was what he had done…when he was six. And eight. And ten. These

days he envied people like who skated the periphery of his mother's

world. They were the ones who got off easy.

> All he could mutter was, " Gee whiz, Ma! "

> " Then these three nice ladies came over and started patting me on the arm and

handing me tissues. I think they were afraid to say anything to 's face.

I guess I can't really blame them. teaches this noonday abs-blaster

class with all these rich middle-aged ladies with sixty-year-old faces and

twenty-year-old figures who all have BMW's and no jobs! They're in there an

hour every other day doing nothing but different ab crunches, and then an hour

on the cardio machines after that. And then half an hour with weights after

that! If you're just a regular person and you don't work in a gym, who else has

the time for that? I don't know who that thinks she is. I guess she

thinks her shit-don't-stink-by association! " his mother said with the simper of

a middle-school girl who knows she's not supposed to curse.

> She finally stopped for breath and attacked her salad, ferociously pinning

down an errant leaf of romaine.

> " God, Ma, that's horrible, " said in a tone that hopefully conveyed

enough sympathy to allow him to escape maligning the other party. He had made

that mistake before in quarrels within the family, and then had to endure the

burning shame of Ma telling Grandma or somebody exactly what he'd said about

them—at the dinner table in front of them.

> " We're all going to have lunch next week, " his mother prattled on. " I think

's been rude to them, too. They didn't act like they liked her. Maybe

it's because they don't have rich husbands and beach houses and drive BMW's! "

Her voice rose into little girl pitch with a snide childish edge, like a

schoolyard put-down.

> checked his watch under the edge of the table. Three more hours of this

and she should be in bed. He had to start his surveillance pretty early, which

should give him an excuse to hustle out.

> There was only one good thing about this: Just when he started feeling

guilty about not wanting to visit, she'd do this again and reawaken the many

memories of why he didn't like to visit.

> The shitty thing about this being his mother, though, was that he still

wasn't excused from feeling guilty about it.

>

[Guest guest]

>

> Usually, when someone says, " Look at what I just wrote! " I kind of cringe. I

don't like to respond when there's nothing nice to say and they just want me to

provide affirmation for them, like a parent to a young child.

>

> But for some reason, I decided to keep reading your post. What's more, I'm

really glad I did. You have a brilliant style, and as a reader I felt compelled

to continue not out of obligation but out of interest. Even in this draft

state, you have managed to present characters that are accessible and easy to

relate to--everyone has encountered someone like Ma or felt like at one

time or another.

>

> I like that you have included things that likes about Ma: her talent for

cooking, fond memories of Friday nights together outdoors, even her appearance.

It highlights the conflicting emotions KOs have towards our parents. The scene

you have created could have happened in any of our kitchens. A reader should

get the sense long before you point it out to him (at least a KO reader will!)

that Ma has been dumping her problems on long before he was an adult. I

see his struggle for self-assertion: " She could make him listen, but she

couldn't make him look at her, " and I watch anxiously to see if anything will

force the tension brewing just under the surface to boil over. I can see the

expression on his face without your even having to describe it. I can hear the

eggshells crunching under his feet, even as he sits stiff and tense at the

table.

>

> Very well written. I wish you much success as you complete the project and

look for publication.

>

> KT

Dear KT,

Many thanks for the feedback! You don't have to worry that I can't take

constructive criticism. I'm in a writer's group with published authors and my

husband is an award-winning author. They've all got sharp eyes and after ten

years in their company, I've learned to grow a thick skin.

The whole point of the thing is to present BPD from a KO's perspective and to

explain to people what it is and why they should care. If it isn't accurate,

I'm not doing my job, and it most certainly needs work. But I am only one KO,

which is why I'm trying to get at least a few other eyes on it.

I don't expect a whole lot of success with this. I've been around the book

business long enough to know that a writer can be extremely good and struggle

with all his wits to make it, and the vast majority of the time the whole

enterprise is extremely disappointing. But, it's a worthy thing to do, so...

Thanks for the moment of your time.

--.

[Guest guest]

i think this is excellent.. i like that sentence: 'she could make him listen but

she could not make him look at her'.. particularly much.. as it has to do with

my own situation as it happens.. which has lead to a major flea i am currently

struggling with.. thanks so much for this insight!  i was wondering why my

behavior was such a problem for me, what its origin might be..  and so on.

thanks so much for sharing and good luck with the rest of your writing! 

ann

Subject: Dinner with a BP

To: WTOAdultChildren1

Date: Thursday, June 3, 2010, 12:09 AM

 

Hi all,

I'm trying to write a novel with BP characters. This is about a 4-page dinner

scene I finished a bit ago. If anyone has time to read it, I want to sort of

road-test it to be sure the emotions and characters ring true to what a lot of

people have experienced. I'd really appreciate any time anyone could take.

, the BP here known as " Ma, " has been harassing her former employer after

losing her job, and narrowly escaped trouble with the police. She has been

obsessing over it to everyone she knows.

Without further ado...

Ma fixed spaghetti. had always loved his mother's spaghetti. Mingled in

the garlic-sweet aroma of meat and tomatoes wafted the memories of dancing

candlelight and childhood friends giggling and laughing across the table. Dad

had never been home for dinner. Ma had filled the Friday nights with spaghetti

dinners and ghost stories outside under the maple tree when the weather was

nice. Neighborhood kids would huddle on an old pink blanket around a candle,

watching lightning bugs flash in the darkness. They'd hold contests to see who

could catch the most of them.

Tonight Ma was in a state. " You'll never believe what at the gym said

to me! " she began, filling a sandwich plate with spaghetti and sitting down to

that and a bowl of salad. filled his own regular-sized dinner plate and

poured himself a glass of iced tea from the pitcher on the counter. His mother

had always made the best iced tea.

" Didja get tea, Ma? "

" Oops, I forgot my tea! "

He grabbed her a glass, added ice cubes from the freezer, and poured. " Here

you go. " He put it in front of her.

Other guys on his squad had to deflect questions about open murders at their

family gatherings; never had to worry about that. When he'd first called

Ma to tell her he'd made detective, she'd started up with, You'll never believe

what so-and-so did to me, and it was an hour before he could ever break his

news.

He sat down and started to cut his spaghetti into manageable length. He wasn't

one to bother with twirling it around his fork; besides, it gave him something

to concentrate on. She could make him listen, but she couldn't make him look at

her.

" I was talking about that mess at the paper, and she was standing there drying

her hair, and all of a sudden she switches off the hair dryer—so everyone can

hear, mind you—and turns around to me in front of everybody in the locker

room. And she says, 'You're not the first person who's ever lost a job!' Real

mean and snotty. "

glanced up at her. She stared indignantly at him out of her wide blue

eyes.

" Then she says, 'You're going to have to do what the rest of us do—' like I'm

an idiot or something—'Buck up, suck it up, and move on!' " Her head pecked

back and forth, strawberry curls bouncing at her cheeks. " She said it just like

that—real nasty. "

had had a point, but kept that part to himself, and only said what

he knew wouldn't cause trouble. " That's a rather extreme way to put things,

especially in front of other people, " he conceded. That was the only way to

deal with Ma: Respond only to what you could agree with.

" Yeah, isn't it though! " She stabbed at her salad. " I was standing there

gaping like a fish, because I didn't know what to say, and then she starts going

on about how she's been laid off three times, and 'she couldn't sit around

moaning about it because she had three kids to feed.' And some stupid thing

about how I 'was trying to turn back the clock.' "

agreed, but he forced that assessment back down with a mouthful of hot

spaghetti. That was the thing with Ma. You never knew when you were going to

have a pleasant home visit and when you were going to have to sit on the steam

or blow your stack.

His mother crunched broccoli and swallowed. " And the whole locker room went

dead silent and I was so embarrassed! In front of my whole class I'd just

finished teaching, and not one of those ladies stood up for me. Not one! "

Because they all agreed, thought silently, and couldn't hold back a

snicker. He covered it with a sip of tea and a fake choke.

Ma stood up, reached over, and slapped him on the back a few times. " Are you

okay? " she said.

patted his chest and nodded, and she relaunched. " And I was so upset, I

just started crying right there. And you know what did? "

didn't even have time to say, " What? "

" She rolled her eyes at me and stalked out! And I'm standing there with tears

rolling down my face. In front of my whole class! "

shoveled in spaghetti. He knew what she wanted him to say: Oh, you poor

thing! That was horrible! What a mean thing to do! She's a terrible person!

And that was what he had done…when he was six. And eight. And ten. These

days he envied people like who skated the periphery of his mother's

world. They were the ones who got off easy.

All he could mutter was, " Gee whiz, Ma! "

" Then these three nice ladies came over and started patting me on the arm and

handing me tissues. I think they were afraid to say anything to 's face.

I guess I can't really blame them. teaches this noonday abs-blaster

class with all these rich middle-aged ladies with sixty-year-old faces and

twenty-year-old figures who all have BMW's and no jobs! They're in there an

hour every other day doing nothing but different ab crunches, and then an hour

on the cardio machines after that. And then half an hour with weights after

that! If you're just a regular person and you don't work in a gym, who else has

the time for that? I don't know who that thinks she is. I guess she

thinks her shit-don't-stink-by association! " his mother said with the simper of

a middle-school girl who knows she's not supposed to curse.

She finally stopped for breath and attacked her salad, ferociously pinning down

an errant leaf of romaine.

" God, Ma, that's horrible, " said in a tone that hopefully conveyed enough

sympathy to allow him to escape maligning the other party. He had made that

mistake before in quarrels within the family, and then had to endure the burning

shame of Ma telling Grandma or somebody exactly what he'd said about them—at

the dinner table in front of them.

" We're all going to have lunch next week, " his mother prattled on. " I think

's been rude to them, too. They didn't act like they liked her. Maybe

it's because they don't have rich husbands and beach houses and drive BMW's! "

Her voice rose into little girl pitch with a snide childish edge, like a

schoolyard put-down.

checked his watch under the edge of the table. Three more hours of this

and she should be in bed. He had to start his surveillance pretty early, which

should give him an excuse to hustle out.

There was only one good thing about this: Just when he started feeling guilty

about not wanting to visit, she'd do this again and reawaken the many memories

of why he didn't like to visit.

The shitty thing about this being his mother, though, was that he still wasn't

excused from feeling guilty about it.

[Guest guest]

It's awsome Roganda. I want to see her harass her former employer and get

arrested. lol

>

> Hi all,

>

> I'm trying to write a novel with BP characters. This is about a 4-page dinner

scene I finished a bit ago. If anyone has time to read it, I want to sort of

road-test it to be sure the emotions and characters ring true to what a lot of

people have experienced. I'd really appreciate any time anyone could take.

>

> , the BP here known as " Ma, " has been harassing her former employer

after losing her job, and narrowly escaped trouble with the police. She has

been obsessing over it to everyone she knows.

>

> Without further ado...

>

>

>

>

> Ma fixed spaghetti. had always loved his mother's spaghetti. Mingled

in the garlic-sweet aroma of meat and tomatoes wafted the memories of dancing

candlelight and childhood friends giggling and laughing across the table. Dad

had never been home for dinner. Ma had filled the Friday nights with spaghetti

dinners and ghost stories outside under the maple tree when the weather was

nice. Neighborhood kids would huddle on an old pink blanket around a candle,

watching lightning bugs flash in the darkness. They'd hold contests to see who

could catch the most of them.

> Tonight Ma was in a state. " You'll never believe what at the gym

said to me! " she began, filling a sandwich plate with spaghetti and sitting down

to that and a bowl of salad. filled his own regular-sized dinner plate and

poured himself a glass of iced tea from the pitcher on the counter. His mother

had always made the best iced tea.

> " Didja get tea, Ma? "

> " Oops, I forgot my tea! "

> He grabbed her a glass, added ice cubes from the freezer, and poured. " Here

you go. " He put it in front of her.

> Other guys on his squad had to deflect questions about open murders at their

family gatherings; never had to worry about that. When he'd first called

Ma to tell her he'd made detective, she'd started up with, You'll never believe

what so-and-so did to me, and it was an hour before he could ever break his

news.

> He sat down and started to cut his spaghetti into manageable length. He

wasn't one to bother with twirling it around his fork; besides, it gave him

something to concentrate on. She could make him listen, but she couldn't make

him look at her.

> " I was talking about that mess at the paper, and she was standing there

drying her hair, and all of a sudden she switches off the hair dryer—so everyone

can hear, mind you—and turns around to me in front of everybody in the locker

room. And she says, 'You're not the first person who's ever lost a job!' Real

mean and snotty. "

> glanced up at her. She stared indignantly at him out of her wide blue

eyes.

> " Then she says, 'You're going to have to do what the rest of us do—' like I'm

an idiot or something—'Buck up, suck it up, and move on!' " Her head pecked back

and forth, strawberry curls bouncing at her cheeks. " She said it just like

that—real nasty. "

> had had a point, but kept that part to himself, and only said

what he knew wouldn't cause trouble. " That's a rather extreme way to put

things, especially in front of other people, " he conceded. That was the only

way to deal with Ma: Respond only to what you could agree with.

> " Yeah, isn't it though! " She stabbed at her salad. " I was standing there

gaping like a fish, because I didn't know what to say, and then she starts going

on about how she's been laid off three times, and 'she couldn't sit around

moaning about it because she had three kids to feed.' And some stupid thing

about how I 'was trying to turn back the clock.' "

> agreed, but he forced that assessment back down with a mouthful of hot

spaghetti. That was the thing with Ma. You never knew when you were going to

have a pleasant home visit and when you were going to have to sit on the steam

or blow your stack.

> His mother crunched broccoli and swallowed. " And the whole locker room went

dead silent and I was so embarrassed! In front of my whole class I'd just

finished teaching, and not one of those ladies stood up for me. Not one! "

> Because they all agreed, thought silently, and couldn't hold back a

snicker. He covered it with a sip of tea and a fake choke.

> Ma stood up, reached over, and slapped him on the back a few times. " Are you

okay? " she said.

> patted his chest and nodded, and she relaunched. " And I was so upset, I

just started crying right there. And you know what did? "

> didn't even have time to say, " What? "

> " She rolled her eyes at me and stalked out! And I'm standing there with

tears rolling down my face. In front of my whole class! "

> shoveled in spaghetti. He knew what she wanted him to say: Oh, you

poor thing! That was horrible! What a mean thing to do! She's a terrible

person!

> And that was what he had done…when he was six. And eight. And ten. These

days he envied people like who skated the periphery of his mother's

world. They were the ones who got off easy.

> All he could mutter was, " Gee whiz, Ma! "

> " Then these three nice ladies came over and started patting me on the arm and

handing me tissues. I think they were afraid to say anything to 's face.

I guess I can't really blame them. teaches this noonday abs-blaster

class with all these rich middle-aged ladies with sixty-year-old faces and

twenty-year-old figures who all have BMW's and no jobs! They're in there an

hour every other day doing nothing but different ab crunches, and then an hour

on the cardio machines after that. And then half an hour with weights after

that! If you're just a regular person and you don't work in a gym, who else has

the time for that? I don't know who that thinks she is. I guess she

thinks her shit-don't-stink-by association! " his mother said with the simper of

a middle-school girl who knows she's not supposed to curse.

> She finally stopped for breath and attacked her salad, ferociously pinning

down an errant leaf of romaine.

> " God, Ma, that's horrible, " said in a tone that hopefully conveyed

enough sympathy to allow him to escape maligning the other party. He had made

that mistake before in quarrels within the family, and then had to endure the

burning shame of Ma telling Grandma or somebody exactly what he'd said about

them—at the dinner table in front of them.

> " We're all going to have lunch next week, " his mother prattled on. " I think

's been rude to them, too. They didn't act like they liked her. Maybe

it's because they don't have rich husbands and beach houses and drive BMW's! "

Her voice rose into little girl pitch with a snide childish edge, like a

schoolyard put-down.

> checked his watch under the edge of the table. Three more hours of this

and she should be in bed. He had to start his surveillance pretty early, which

should give him an excuse to hustle out.

> There was only one good thing about this: Just when he started feeling

guilty about not wanting to visit, she'd do this again and reawaken the many

memories of why he didn't like to visit.

> The shitty thing about this being his mother, though, was that he still

wasn't excused from feeling guilty about it.

>

[Guest guest]

>

> It's awsome Roganda. I want to see her harass her former employer and get

arrested. lol

That's what I'm planning to do actually. is a KO who is going to have to

make a tough decision about what to do.

Thanks so much for the kind words!!

--.