Teen Tales is a weekly feature connecting the YA experience with YA literature. Today, we've got a guest post from Jenny Morris! Here's a little about her before we get started:
I am 6 of 7 children and have lived in 3 of the 4 A’s states, but I currently call Oregon my home. In an alternate reality, I would have been a totally cool Rock Star or a Ninja with Wings, who saved the day. But, in this reality I put pen to paper and I pretend. I am a wife, mother, and I hope one day, a published author.
Now to the post!
It was my sophomore year in high school, and I’d just started my first job. He was tall, with feathery brown hair. His hazel green eyes popped, because of his naturally tan skin, and he had WAY kissable plump limps. We made pizzas together, and he had my heart. Too bad his heart wasn’t available.
During the 9 months I worked with him, I analyzed every detail of our interaction with one another. I made excuses to stay late, if he had the late shift. Every glance or smile confirmed that he really wanted to be with me, he just couldn’t bring himself to hurt his girlfriend.
It was my sophomore year in high school, and I’d just started my first job. He was tall, with feathery brown hair. His hazel green eyes popped, because of his naturally tan skin, and he had WAY kissable plump limps. We made pizzas together, and he had my heart. Too bad his heart wasn’t available.
During the 9 months I worked with him, I analyzed every detail of our interaction with one another. I made excuses to stay late, if he had the late shift. Every glance or smile confirmed that he really wanted to be with me, he just couldn’t bring himself to hurt his girlfriend.
Then one glorious night, my co-worker and co-crusher, (I didn’t know that part until just a few weeks ago) told me that he broke up with his girlfriend. Finally, my guy with kissable lips was free. So, the next time we worked together, I made sure I stayed late. And we sat in his baby blue VW bug, and talked. What did we say? I have NO idea, but it ended in a kiss.
There is much argument as to who initiated this kiss. He swears that sweet little Jenny Sue, attacked him and made him kiss her. It was all a haze though, so I can’t argue with him. I just remember leaning in, and bam, we were kissing.
Why the argument? He only broke up with his girlfriend for a day. They were already back together. Oh, poor little Jenny Sue.
In my teenage girl mind, little things added up to so much. Each smile, conversation, that deep look he gave me with those hazel eyes. The way he laughed at my silly jokes, as he touched my arm. They all added up to mean he liked me.
Did this guy ever like me? Or did he just like to flirt? I wanted him to like me. So, that’s what I believed. I wanted him to kiss me, and that’s what happened. But, he stayed with his girlfriend. So, I guess he didn’t really like me, did he?
How do I apply this to my writing?
All the little things people do add up and become the story. When I’m reading a book, I love when the author allows the little things to tell the love story. You can use your MC’s perception of an event, as an amazing tool. Sometimes perception is EVERYTHING.
*I e-mailed my co-worker/co-crusher to ask what color this guy’s eyes were, and she informed me that she ran into him a few weeks ago. Guess what? I totally dodged a bullet with that one.
There is much argument as to who initiated this kiss. He swears that sweet little Jenny Sue, attacked him and made him kiss her. It was all a haze though, so I can’t argue with him. I just remember leaning in, and bam, we were kissing.
Why the argument? He only broke up with his girlfriend for a day. They were already back together. Oh, poor little Jenny Sue.
In my teenage girl mind, little things added up to so much. Each smile, conversation, that deep look he gave me with those hazel eyes. The way he laughed at my silly jokes, as he touched my arm. They all added up to mean he liked me.
Did this guy ever like me? Or did he just like to flirt? I wanted him to like me. So, that’s what I believed. I wanted him to kiss me, and that’s what happened. But, he stayed with his girlfriend. So, I guess he didn’t really like me, did he?
How do I apply this to my writing?
All the little things people do add up and become the story. When I’m reading a book, I love when the author allows the little things to tell the love story. You can use your MC’s perception of an event, as an amazing tool. Sometimes perception is EVERYTHING.
*I e-mailed my co-worker/co-crusher to ask what color this guy’s eyes were, and she informed me that she ran into him a few weeks ago. Guess what? I totally dodged a bullet with that one.