I want to preface this story by saying that everything is okay now – I was debating writing about this topic because it’s really intense and personal to me but I think it will produce the best writing and all issues have been resolved. This is the beginning of the piece:
I’m sitting in a dimly lit church basement on Schermerhorn and Third Avenue in Downtown Brooklyn, surrounded by a crowd of older black men and women. I look around while I take a sip of my tea from the free refreshment table and realize I am the only white person in the room. I am also the youngest aside from two small children. I say hello to those who look at me, I hug those who want a hug, but mostly I keep quiet. Some men are missing teeth, some have canes and struggle to walk, some are donned in chains and others with raspy voices. I try my best to not look as out of place as I feel. What would my parents think if they knew I was here? Should I even be here? I push these thoughts aside, recite the Serenity prayer and tune into the beginning of the meeting: “Hi family, I’m Melvin, and I’m an addict.”
—
It took me four months of being with my boyfriend to realize that he is a drug addict. “You look skinny,” I’d tell him. “There’s a reason for that,” he’d say. You always fall asleep when we’re together. Why aren’t you answering my calls? I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me. I didn’t and still don’t really know what a drug addict looks like. I always attributed the signs of usage to something else, something innocent. Oh, he must be tired from work. He probably just isn’t eating enough. I’m sure he’s fine. I know now that he wasn’t.
We met at a bar in my neighborhood where I was out with friends and he was DJing. I complimented the music and the second he smiled at me I knew where I was sleeping that night, and every night after that. He’s this 6 foot 2, dark skinned, tattoo covered DJ with the kindest smile. He makes me laugh until I cry and love until it hurts. He is ex-Navy and could never do me any wrong. This is it, I thought, this is who I’ve been waiting for.
For months I felt on top of the world with him. I just wanted to know more and more about this man, and slowly I did. He told me about his mother passing, about traveling the world in the Navy, and about eventually getting kicked out of the Navy for smoking weed. He told me about clubbing in France, living in Hawaii, being arrested in Florida. I knew I was falling for him because the good and the bad both felt like a dream. And all I wanted was more. He always told me he could never fully open up to me though, because there is some stuff that I might not be able to handle. “I can handle anything,” I told him. And I thought I could.
This is very intriguing and I am excited to read more. I love the way you opened it up painting a picture of where you are and what the people are around you look like. Nice writing.
Your attention-getter is impressive and, as our classmate above said, quite intriguing! Aside from your writing style, which is also interesting, that first paragraph is the perfect example of that type of narration that makes you feel a part of the story–that makes you want more. Just one thing, though: I think you should be consistent with the way you introduce dialogue (both thoughts and speech). Definitely start a new paragraph if you introduce a new character and, most importantly, either use italics or quotation marks BUT not both. It is confusing, and although any smart person would get it if they stop reading and analyze it, you don’t want your readers to make that extra effort. We are century XXI readers–nobody has time to decipher what character is talking.
Good job, I really enjoyed reading this excerpt. I loved how it grabs the reader from the first sentence, it makes you wonder what is yet to come. I like how descriptive your excerpt is, and it flowed very nicely. I can’t wait to read more.
I really like the last sentence you use to lead readers on. “He always told me he could never fully open up to me though, because there is some stuff that I might not be able to handle. “I can handle anything,” I told him. And I thought I could.” It makes me wonder how you ended up in the first scene from the last paragraph. I’m looking forward to what you write next.