John vaulted off his chair in fright as a clap of thunder shattered the sedate, unwelcoming atmosphere and rattled the sorting frames in the postal delivery centre. He heard a man across the room chuckle and another to his right mutter an insult under his breath as he struggled to fill his own pannier bags. Newbies were always an easy target. He glanced at the figures congregated in the room. Veterans were indistinguishable from the fresh meat under the heavy rain-soaked jackets and wet-weather pants they all wore. He looked at his hands, soft, wrinkled and numbed from exposure from his first run as they struggled to get his mail into any sort of order, all feeling in his fingers a distant memory. What a day! His first. The rain began to thrash the metal roof once more and John dreaded leaving the safety of the post office and it’s bright lights for the gloom of the morning and the dangerous, sodden streets of the city. He pulled on his gloves. Still wet and stinking from the mud and grease of the road and his numb hands gripped his panniers and he stumbled out into the storm.
(With apologies to real postmen!)
Hemingway you are wondering? Steinbeck? Norman Mailer perhaps? No, just little old me and a paragraph I had to write in a few minutes as an assignment for a creative writing class I am doing online. What do you think?
The assignment was due at midnight on Sunday and as usual I had thought about it all week and managed to manouevre it out of the way until almost the last moment. After listening to two half hour long monologues from Valerie Khoo of The Australian Writers Centre who narrates the lesson I had to write a paragraph about a place I imagine in my mind and the sights and sounds which accompany that unique vision. She added that the face to face class which does the same course have only fifteen minutes to comply and put something down. No good for me. My head fills with air when pressure is applied to me like that and I briefly considered blowing off the assignment as it was nearly 10pm and I was tired enough for my usual complacency about meeting online assignment deadlines to kick in and I teetered on the edge of the cliff of abandonment.
However, I found some steel in the depths of my flawed character and came up with an idea about a newbie postman on his first day at work delivering mail and the uncomfortable introduction he has to the job due to a storm. I am no postman and never have been so I apologize to anyone who delivers mail for a living and is scoffing at my depiction of what actually happens when a postie packs for his run but I was getting desperate and I made it up as I went along. I really do respect you lot who work “over the fence” from us in the processing area. Being a postman can be a tough gig.
I managed to get the assignment logged at about 11.30pm, a load off my mind although it is not compulsory to complete them and load them and you only get feedback on your work not a mark as such. But I figure as writers work to deadlines it was good practice and that is why the course is designed as it is. You must meet those deadlines!
So, how was it received by the tutor? Very well in fact. She considered it to be a very good example of “show don’t tell” and even though the writing was introspective it fitted the atmosphere of the piece. I am not sure what the average punter may think.
I have only looked briefly at this week’s lesson and assignment but it appears I have to read “To Kill a Mockingbird” and give feedback and dissect the novel! Not a job for a few hours on a Sunday night. I had better load the novel onto my Kindle and at least have a crack at it tonight. I don’t want to miss my deadline!
The course has a week to run after that and while it has been interesting it has not really been as good as the freelance writing course I did through the writer’s centre a couple of years ago. But at least it has inspired me to do a bit of writing. I will keep battling on with it from here.
Have a nice evening.
Strange Notations From a Laborious Life 