Second of character sketches for the joint venture between Luis and myself. i did this one also as a first person narrative. i really like this character. it took awhile for her to come to me but she did. i was in new york walking on central park west towards the Natural History Museum and she slowly showed herself to me. i have to be honest with you here, i got closer to this one than i normally like to. so close, in fact, i have been avoiding typing this. right now i am avoiding it by typing this ridiculously long introduction. well it is time. i present to you Pink Ribbon Girl:
I have this nagging feeling. I do not know where it's coming from and that bothers me. I always know. I should clarify. I rarely do not know and when I don't I find out. I always find out. Nothing escapes me. Except for this. I can't expect you to understand. You would look at me and see what most see. I am beautiful. Long straight black hair, with honey-colored eyes, and legs for days. You also realize when you see me that you can never have me. I am so above you and you know it. But this feeling, it is leveling the playing field. I am not at ease. I am out of my game and I don't like it.
Nothing escapes me. I never want for anything. Everything works for me, it always has. But this feeling doesn't obey. It's growing too. It is starting to make me question me. Who am I to think the world should bend to my whim? It certainly doesn't do that for anyone else. I watch you and your pathetic push and pull against the odds. I don't do that. I shouldn't have to do that. I am above that. How am I above that? I am a person, right? I eat. I sleep. I have a heart and lungs. But I never hurt. I never need. I have no urges. Is that being alive? It must be. I am alive. Right?
Maybe I am alive now. I never worried, wanted, or needed until now. This nagging feeling. Does that make me alive?
I don't know. I do know it has something to do with my new charge, Harriot. I like her. She reminds me of myself in a kind of fun house mirror sort of way. All the pieces are there just way out of proportion. She is key, that much I know. Her and my long pink ribbon.
Showing posts with label character sketch. Show all posts
Showing posts with label character sketch. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Monday, October 13, 2008
Priscilla Penelope Cooper
i am co-writing a story with my hetero-life mate luis. he has thus far completed three character profiles and i shall now add to this with the mother of the "main" character Harriot. you can check out his character profiles on his blog. i have treated my profile a little different and will have the character speak directly to you.
My name is Priscilla Penelope Cooper. I was born the 31st of August 1910. I met my husband, the late Oliver Wesley Cooper in the summer of my seventeenth year. We were engaged the fall of that same year and married the following spring. From our blessed union was born one child, Harriot Annalynn Cooper. Oliver thought it best to wait for children and I was inclined to agree. He was in the military and gave his life to our nation in the summer of 1944 at Normandy. I have not and shall not remarry. I have a comfortable life and men do tend to complicate things. My dearest friend and neighbor Joan agrees with me on this; she too was widowed but unlike me remarried. Joan complains to no end about her new husband. She spends most of her free time with me. Being as she only has a dog and no children I see Joan everyday.
My daughter, Harriot, and I are not close. I will shoulder some blame for this, but not all. I can see now if I had remarried a male influence may have helped her and me. She is nearly twenty-five and still not one proposal or any suitors. There is that one boy, odd little twitchy fellow, but fortunately I can see her lack of interest in him. Thank heavens. He is very protective of her. But the way he watches her sometimes. Almost like he could give up everything he is and has for her I find quite disturbing. Of course if she waits much longer he may be her only recourse for a family of her own.
I do try my best for Harriot. Giving her tips on her appearance. Her clothing, hair, etiquette what have you. Things any mother does for their daughter. What does Harriot do? She ignores me. Not a nod, not a blink, not a sigh. She will simply look at me and change the subject almost as if none of it matters to her. It is just so gosh darn infuriating. Pardon me. That outburst was inexcusable. I love my daughter. I am very proud of her. She's a nurse and smart enough to be a doctor. I wish she understood that. All I do and ever have done have been out of my endless love for her. I just don't think she understands the way the world works.
I also have this suspicion that something else is going on. She would never tell me of that much I am sure. So I will just have to find out for myself.
Mrs. Priscilla Penelope Cooper
My name is Priscilla Penelope Cooper. I was born the 31st of August 1910. I met my husband, the late Oliver Wesley Cooper in the summer of my seventeenth year. We were engaged the fall of that same year and married the following spring. From our blessed union was born one child, Harriot Annalynn Cooper. Oliver thought it best to wait for children and I was inclined to agree. He was in the military and gave his life to our nation in the summer of 1944 at Normandy. I have not and shall not remarry. I have a comfortable life and men do tend to complicate things. My dearest friend and neighbor Joan agrees with me on this; she too was widowed but unlike me remarried. Joan complains to no end about her new husband. She spends most of her free time with me. Being as she only has a dog and no children I see Joan everyday.
My daughter, Harriot, and I are not close. I will shoulder some blame for this, but not all. I can see now if I had remarried a male influence may have helped her and me. She is nearly twenty-five and still not one proposal or any suitors. There is that one boy, odd little twitchy fellow, but fortunately I can see her lack of interest in him. Thank heavens. He is very protective of her. But the way he watches her sometimes. Almost like he could give up everything he is and has for her I find quite disturbing. Of course if she waits much longer he may be her only recourse for a family of her own.
I do try my best for Harriot. Giving her tips on her appearance. Her clothing, hair, etiquette what have you. Things any mother does for their daughter. What does Harriot do? She ignores me. Not a nod, not a blink, not a sigh. She will simply look at me and change the subject almost as if none of it matters to her. It is just so gosh darn infuriating. Pardon me. That outburst was inexcusable. I love my daughter. I am very proud of her. She's a nurse and smart enough to be a doctor. I wish she understood that. All I do and ever have done have been out of my endless love for her. I just don't think she understands the way the world works.
I also have this suspicion that something else is going on. She would never tell me of that much I am sure. So I will just have to find out for myself.
Mrs. Priscilla Penelope Cooper
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