Two People, One Thought/Methodists Sing

As a warm-up for a lesson on Vantage Points in my Advanced Fiction class at UC Davis Extension, our teacher asked us to do a quick-write about two people sharing one thought.

This being a quick-write, I didn't have much time to mull over character or subject, so I zeroed in on the funeral I had attended the previous Saturday.

Methodists Sing

The Deacon said, "We Methodists sing."

As compared to whom?  I thought, knowing she meant Catholics like me, who generally prefer to let the choir do the job. 

Heck, I feel sorry for the people sitting next to me in church.  I'm doing my Christian duty by not singing.  You know, love thy neighbor as thyself.  Let the choir members do what they're good at.  Why ruin the experience?

Anyway, I took out the song book and tried to sing Amazing Grace along with the Methodists, but I couldn't reach the high notes with the sopranos or the low notes with the altos.  Only squawks and groans came out.


ruminatriy

I felt Christian love for the people sitting next to me and shut my mouth.

###

She looked over the congregation.  Many strangers in the pews.  Not a surprise.  Funerals were attended by all denominations.  But she felt the urge to tell them, just so they'd know, "We Methodists sing," before the choir broke into Amazing Grace. 

Sure enough, the people in back, Catholics likely, stood, hymnals untouched, lips sealed.

She shrugged.  I'm here to lead souls into heaven, not turn them into singers.

###

karolik

Two characters, from two vantage points.  Two separate consciousnesses narrating the scene.  By exploring a meeting between two characters with different view points, a writer can help the reader see, and hopely understand, something new about the human situation. 

If this were to turn into a story, would the position of the characters change over time?  Would either experience an epiphany?  Or would their viewpoints remain unchanged?  How would the plot unfold?  What would create the tension, the suspense? 

So many possibilities from just a simple quick-write.

Next time you're sitting in a public place, such as an airport, a mall, a restaurant, or an unfamiliar church, try entering the heads of some of the people around you and then imagine what they might be thinking, feeling, experiencing.

Who knows, your imaginings may turn into a short story--even a novel.  If nothing else, it would be an exercise in empathy and understanding, knowing that each person was experiencing a different reality, depending on his or her frame of mind.

You don't have to be a writer to do this, just someone with a little empathy and the imagination and will to put your thoughts on paper.

From this writer to you,

A Word from My Protagonist

Inspiration for Between Will and Surrender.

Dear Reader,

My name is Marjorie Veil Sunwalker. Margaret Duarte, the writer of this novel, believes she has created me. She believes she has made up the events and details of my journey. What she doesn't realize is that I have been with her for a long, long time. She was only an instrument, my interpreter.

Margaret first felt my presence during her visit to the Monterey Peninsula in California. It was August of the year 2000. She was on the 17-Mile Drive and had stopped at the landmark of the Lone Cypress. There, I gently touched her, beckoning her for the first time.

At her next stop she saw what remains of The Ghost Tree, bleached white by wind and sea. As she stood entranced, I nudged her one more time.

Finally, at the Carmel Mission, I set the trap, and she was caught. She didn't know the hows or whys, but she knew she would write a story.

From then on, I've been her invisible guide. I've whispered my thoughts and experiences to her, lifting the veil a bit at a time. It was her job to put all the pieces together. She was to make sense of all the twists and turns that appeared along my path. She was to be my voice.

Another thing Margaret does not know is that this was also her journey. We traveled the road of my quest together. Often my surprises were her surprises, my trials became her trials, and my awakening helped her to awaken.

I give Margaret credit for taking on this large project. She was obsessed and stubborn enough to carry it through. She kept unraveling, sorting, and weaving, until the invisible threads of my tale were connected into an intricate web, ready to preserve between the covers of her book.

Margaret has learned to receive my message with the single eye of her heart, instead of the eyes in her head. That's the eye that sees inner reality and the world of the spirit.

However, she still doesn't think I'm real. I say it all depends on one's definition of real. The membrane between Margaret and me is very thin, and the crossing over is easy.

The path we walked together was a sacred one, not bound by space and time. Because you are alive, you may find yourself on a similar path one day, trying to open your eyes to the Sacred Mystery. We may have more in common than you think. If this novel happens to get into your hands, I hope you can join us in our dance of discovery.

By the way, Margaret is still unaware of one last thing. The circle of my life and hers is not yet complete. We have only reached the opening stages of our journey. We have only been awakened. Our story isn't over.



http://margaretduarte.googlepages.com

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