I still don't know how to pronounce vermouth??

I find, no matter how much work I have to do, I always have time to write creatively. Even now, when I'm in the process of three research papers and final projects, I create time to write. (Procrastination? Of course. But it's good procrastination. I'm still writing, I'm just not writing what I'm supposed to. See? Good procrastination. Not killing my brain cells.)

Anyway, I'm in the middle of writing a short story in a slightly different voice than I'm used to (seriously it's like killing me) and definitely from a different point of view. I figured, why not show you? So this is a small excerpt (seriously. a tiny one.) for you all to read. I hope you enjoy it:)

The old guy, a man named Joe who couldn’t have been any older than that ancient tabby cat you found, winked at me when I entered. We’d become good friends, Joe and I. I’m not saying we ever braided each other’s hair or gossiped about the new edition of vogue, but people grow closer after wiping down a bar covered in barf. After all, it’s not every day you can get up-close and personal with the contents of someone’s stomach. That adds another dimension of trust issues.

So, Joe saw me walk in, the same as I had for the past two months. Every Tuesday afternoon at two o’clock you’d trudge through the heavy door, splaying the bright light across the cement, make your way to the bar where no one sat (because honestly who gets drunk at two in the afternoon?), and demand a Manhattan—1 ½ part Jack Daniels, ½ part sweet vermouth, and a dash of bitters, served straight up with an extra cherry. And, predictably, I would come in at nine after getting a call from my buddy Joe to rescue you from yourself.

This time, the glass in front of you was short, fat, and mysteriously clear. Vodka? Not really your style.

“How has he been today, Joe?” My question seemed to amuse Joe, who chuckled at me.  Joe never missed an opportunity to laugh, and with good reason. His monster shoulders shook, his mouth fell open without care as his booming laughter filled the room. An involuntary smile crept over my face, Joe’s infectious nature overcoming any sense of gloom I’d been feeling. Joe had the effect on everyone—everyone, of course, except you.

Trespassing by Marissa Perry

A/N: I searched everywhere on the internet to find a copy of this short story, but I couldn't find it at all. Sigh. It was found in a summer edition of Tin House, a literary journal. Mr. Frankum has the copy in his room! I also have a copy of the short story if you would like to borrow it. You can just ask me :')
Also, this story deals with extreme sexual content, which is what I'm writing about in this post. If you cannot be mature while reading it, I wouldn't suggest it. Otherwise, happy reading!

While this story alludes to sex on almost every page, it is easy to see why. It follows the life of four girls as they grow an discover who they are. Their journey starts with kissing practice, then the discovery of porn and, through that, masturbation. Their lives and personalities are shaped by the idea of sex, being so intimately close to another person so they can feel the other person's heartbeat, hear their ragged breath, touch their slick skin. They act as other teenagers do--they examine the girls and boys around them, wondering of their sexuality and sexual life. Were the others thinking of them when they reached their climax? Did the others even touch themselves, or were the four girls the only kids masturbating? Would that be considered wrong?

The innocence of the prudent and the intensity of the intimate meet in Dora Browning's home. Dora Browning. Such a boring name for such a boring, innocent person. There was nothing extraordinary about her when she was alive. The girls sneak into her abandoned home, trespassing and intruding on what was once her most personal space. They are close to leaving when the epitome (to them) of women comes into the house with her latest sexual conquest. The girls hide in Dora's room while Meryl and her boy-toy join together in the opposite bedroom.

While the girls want to leave, they also want to stay. Meryl is not the picture of innocence as Dora was; she is the girl unashamed of her body, unaffected by the glares of the judging, who is constantly attracting the sexual attention of men. She is the girl who has sex, who masturbates, who watches porn--the person that shows the four girls that it's not wrong to do that. When the girls sneak out, the temptation to view Meryl's naked body is overwhelming. Just what is it about her that attracts men? Are they alike, or are the other girls repulsive in comparison?

Judgment is a archetype across all cultures. All men and women question who they are in comparison to others. Marissa Perry's sex obviously had a key role in the development of her story. She probably went through some of those experiences as a kid. She knew how it felt to be lost among others, hidden by their glares and false whispers. Her unique perspective as a young girl discovering herself opened a spot in my heart as a reader.

I'll admit, when I opened up to this story in the edition of Tin House I read, I didn't expect it to be this easily relatable. Some of the short stories I've read haven't always spoken to me as this one did. I related to this on two different levels--that as a critical reader/writer, and that as a teenager going through these same experiences.

I'll start with the stuff you'll most likely think is boring--the technical stuff. The one thing that really impacted me about this story is the point of view. I've been completely addicted to writing in second person lately because it's such a challenge as a writer, and then I read this and almost squealed. (Okay, I probably did squeal. A lot.) It's written in first person plural--how hard would that be? Knowing the perspective of four girls, and writing them all at once? It's (pardon my English) bloody amazing, that's what it is. I also liked how she jumped ahead in time. Division markers are extremely important in a short story that covers an large amount of time. Knowing where and when in the timeline to insert them is critical to the story and its development. Marissa planned them perfectly, which made the story so much more fun to read.

Now to the personal part of why I loved this story. I know what it's like to be these girls. Am I actually a "crazed, abnormal masturbator"? (Don't worry--I'm not. Haha.) Will I honestly fit in if I am NOT the girl represented in Meryl? I don't want to be a slag in order to fit in. That is just wrong. Like Jason said in our abstinence talk, my body is sacred, and having sex should not be the only way to make me accept myself as a person. The struggles that these girls go through on their journey is so similar to what I have felt in my life.

I also just really liked the line about being a crazed, abnormal masturbator.