Sender: Julie-Ann Gardner, Wife, Age: 41
Date of receipt: 7-7-2015
Transcript
Dear Tim,
Hey Honey! How are you? I woke up
this morning, and was thinking about you, so I decided to sit down and write
you an actual letter. How quaint, right? I don’t care. I think it’s a lost art.
Also, it’s adorable. You better think so too, if you know what’s good for you.
I need to start off by saying how
thankful I am that you got this job. The pay is amazing. They’re paying for our
house. Food, on the (what is it called? Please hold. Need thesaurus) commissary
is incredibly cheap. The ups are way, way more than the downs. However, I have
one complaint: I’m so bored. I. Am. So. Bored.
I don’t know what I expected when I agreed to move with you out the middle of nowhere, Nevada. That’s not true. I know what I thought. I thought, we’ll be close to Vegas! On the weekends, we’ll go stay at fancy hotels and eat exotic foods and meet cool couples from Europe; maybe a Swedish couple named Sven and Lana who make documentaries about sharks. Sven would be the diver/cameraman and Lana would lovingly narrate her husband’s underwater adventures, and they’d be successful because every time Sven got in a hairy situation with a shark, you’d be able to hear Lana’s real-life concern in her narration, letting you know that they really love each other, even though they’re sun burnt and salty.
Granted, I could have looked up
Bullfrog County on a map, and seen it was nowhere close to Vegas. But whatever!
Who knew Nevada was this big? Why is Nevada this big?? I feel like no matter
where I am in the state, I should be a reasonable drive to Vegas or Reno. Or
fun. Of any kind.
Ugh.
When we got married, I remember saying the sickness and health thing, but I don’t remember saying anything about letting you torture me to death with boredom.
Relax. I won’t leave you.
Yet.
Kidding!
I know what you’d say, if you were here. You’d tell me to think positive, and turn whatever I’m hating on (soul-crushing boredom) into an opportunity. I am!
I’ve decided to start writing. Since you’re in the Bullpen for two weeks at a time, then back for one, I’ve decided to write two-thousand words a week while you’re on guard duty, and one thousand when you’re off (because I know you’d be heartbroken, if you didn’t get most of my time—the sacrifices I make for you, Timothy Gardner). And every day, I’m going to do a writing exercise from this creative writing class I’m taking online.
Want to know what today’s is? You can write it, too, and then we can compare what we came up with when you get home. No. You do not have to do this. I know you’re working, and busy. I’m just trying to give you something to do, in case you get bored. I hear that’s a real problem out here.
Here it goes:
Today’s exercise is: Show, don’t
tell. We’re (I’m) going to pick a scenario with a little detail. Then, we’re
going to try and flesh out the characters actions with psychology and emotions.
Try to use the five senses as much as possible.
Scenario: Woman goes shopping in the grocery store. She has a lot on her mind, and piles way too much stuff in her cart. When she gets to the checkout line, she’s still on auto-pilot. All her groceries are bagged. She slides her card through the machine, and it declines. She has a breakdown at the cash register and, when the bag boy starts to unpack her stuff, she freaks out and slaps him across the face.
Okay! There’s your food for thought. Go!
Love,
Julie Gardner (Your Beautiful Wife)
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