Quick Write From Teachers Write

See the Thursday Quick Write with author Tracey Baptiste at Kate Messner’s blog.

Exercise 1

She flipped on every light as she walked through the house. She stands in the doorway and reaches in to turn on the bedroom light. her hair is mussed up and hangs around her face. She is wearing her favorite bell bottom hip-huggers, the yellow and lavender plaid with a yellow bodysuit. Her coolest outfit. Grass stains on the knees.

She sees the familiar dresser, the contents of her dad’s pockets scattered across the top, Her dad’s work clothes are wadded in the laundry basket. Her mom’s pink chenille robe hangs on the bedpost.

Her parents are sleeping peacefully, her dad’s arm stretched protectively across her mom. “Mom,” she says softly. The sleeping form stirs slightly. “Mom,” she says again, a little louder, voice trembling. Her mother’s eyes flutter open, slowly registering the light and her daughter standing there in the doorframe. Suddenly she sits upright, reaching one hand toward her daughter, frantically shaking her husband awake with the other.

Exercise 2

I love God most. Family next. That might sound ordinary and boring, but it is true. I hate being afraid. But there are a lot of things I am afraid of. I try not to be jealous, but I do get jealous of the ones who get the awards I wish I could get. I mean, most of the time, I am pretty good at things- good grades, etc. But I never seem to be the best. If I could do anything, I just wish I could make my mom happy. I have never told anyone my biggest secret, and I never will.

Exercise 3 (flip the character in 2)

I don’t know if I believe in God like all the people who say they love Him. I can’t stand my family. Why wasn’t I born in a different family?! I don’t belong in my stupid family. Who am I jealous of? There are too many to name. If I could do anything, I would go to Hollywood and be a rich and famous actress.

Exercise 4

Girl: (whispering) Mom? (louder) M-m-mom?
Mother: W-what happened?
Girl: (Shaking head, walking to mother)
Mother: It’s OK, it’s OK.
Girl: (crying)
Father: What is wrong?
Mother: I’m not sure. Check the other kids.

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