Carmenita

I'm hiding out in my office because my writing workshop starts in one hour. My story is Up for critique tonight. I'm considering ditching class. My story is about a humongous baby that grows to be a ten-foot child -- not kidding. It's not even a comedy. It all ends tragically, and now I want to laugh and laugh because my stomach hurts. And I don't want them to tell me what they think my symbolism means. I don't want to hear that they cried in the end (YES I DO.) And I really just want to rip the story to shreds because I'm too in love with it, and I fear I'll punch anybody in the face if they try to criticize my poor, huge Carmenita.

After my male best friend (MBF), Honduro -- a good writer and a great reader – read the last draft, he made a song up about Carmenita. It was so unexpected, and I was so emotionally raw because I love my 10-foot girl that I almost kicked him in the balls as he sang. It turned out that he has a freakish crush on the character too. He talks about her a lot, but he always wants her to grow and grow and then he makes up stories like, Godzilla vs. Carmenita, and I want to cry when he does that even though it’s fun to play along.

Mandy has read every single draft of the story, as she has done with all my writing, and she often says, "Poor Carmenita." That's how I feel: Poor Carmenita.

And I want to run, manuscript in hand, and not let my classmates injure Carmenita or my glass-fragile ego. BE KIND, DEAR CLASS. No, go ahead, rip me up. Mandy loved the last draft; she is an insightful, emotional reader. I am an emotional writer. This works out well. But Honduro said he needed more from Carmenita. God, WITH HIS OBSESSION WITH HER. But he's right, I fear. The story is missing a scene maybe two. He said he would cry buckets if I could pull this story off.

So, I don't want to go to class now. I want to rewrite the story for the 5 billionth time. But Honduro will be in workshop tonight telling me to Buck Up. And if it gets to be too much, them tearing down by monster child, I'll shove manuscript pages in my ears and hum Feliz Navidad, and I'll remind myself that if Mandy likes it, that's good enough for me!